#forensic nursing course

[training-tale]

Forensic Nursing UK With Training Tale

Forensic nursing is a unique and growing field that sits at the intersection of healthcare and the criminal justice system. In the UK, Forensic Nurses play a crucial role in providing compassionate care to victims of trauma while also collecting medical evidence that can be vital in legal proceedings. At Training Tale, we offer comprehensive courses designed to prepare individuals for a rewarding career in forensic nursing.

What is Forensic Nursing in the UK?

Forensic nursing combines the medical expertise of a nurse with the investigative skills required to support the justice system. Forensic nurses are often called upon to care for victims of violence, abuse, and trauma, while also ensuring that evidence is preserved and documented for legal cases.

In the UK, forensic nurses may work in hospitals, prisons, or with law enforcement agencies. Their responsibilities often include conducting forensic examinations, collecting DNA samples, and providing testimony in court regarding their findings.

Why Forensic Nursing is Essential

The role of a forensic nurse is incredibly important, as they not only care for the immediate health needs of their patients but also contribute significantly to the legal process. Whether it’s working with victims of domestic violence, sexual assault, or other forms of trauma, forensic nurses provide crucial support both medically and legally.

At Training Tale, our forensic nursing programs focus on both the practical and theoretical aspects of this demanding yet rewarding field. Students are trained to handle sensitive situations with empathy while ensuring that they collect and document evidence with precision.

Forensic Nursing UK: Career Opportunities and Paths

Forensic nurses in the UK have the opportunity to work in a variety of settings. Some of the key roles available in this field include:

Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner (SANE): Providing care and forensic examinations for sexual assault victims.

Custodial Nursing: Working within the prison system to care for inmates and assist in investigations.

Forensic Mental Health Nurse: Focusing on patients with mental health issues within the criminal justice system.

Legal Nurse Consultant: Assisting legal teams in interpreting medical records and providing expert testimony.

The skills acquired through Training Tale’s forensic nursing courses prepare you to work in these diverse roles, allowing you to contribute meaningfully to both healthcare and the justice system.

Why Choose Training Tale for Forensic Nursing?

At Training Tale, we understand that forensic nursing requires a unique blend of medical knowledge, legal expertise, and emotional resilience. Our courses are designed to provide students with a well-rounded education that covers all aspects of forensic nursing.

Key Features of Our Forensic Nursing Program:

Comprehensive Curriculum: Covering forensic science, legal frameworks, and medical procedures.

Experienced Instructors: Learn from professionals with real-world forensic nursing experience.

Practical Training: Hands-on learning opportunities to prepare you for real-life forensic cases.

Supportive Learning Environment: Whether you’re studying online or in-person, we provide the guidance and resources you need to succeed.

How to Get Started in Forensic Nursing in the UK

Enrolling in Training Tale’s forensic nursing courses is the first step toward an exciting and meaningful career. Our programs are designed for both healthcare professionals looking to specialize and individuals new to the nursing field. With flexible learning options and expert guidance, Training Tale is your gateway to becoming a certified forensic nurse in the UK.

[earlysunshines]

attachment: 1 image

myoui mina x fem!reader ; smut

synopsis: your girlfriends a model and you’re always clocked in so it’s reeeaaally hard for you to get intimate and goddddd mina’s getting impatient and sexually frustrated so she takes matters into her own hands.

warnings: smut ; filthy!! ; did someone say sub reader? ; sub!reader!!!!! ; mina is a model ; reader is in forensics ; somnophilia ; thigh riding ; fingering ; mentions of stitches ; bruises ; blood ; small easter egg if you’ve read one of my jihyo fics ; not proofread ; anything else i forgot to mention

a/n: muahhahahaa

attachment: 1 image

your phone buzzes, and usually you’d ignore it considering you have to meet this deadline– but when you look at your phone, seeing the small pixels of your girlfriend getting a kiss on the cheek from you in the contact picture and the little “minari” on the screen; you quickly grab your phone, clicking on the notification.

jesus. is all you can think of when you see the picture, you’re surprised you can think after seeing it.

mina – your girlfriend, your oh-so-lovely girlfriend, the girl of your dreams, the model you managed to get into a relationship with after spilling all of your drink on at one of sana’s parties, your everything and more – is leaned over against a balcony, eyes looking into the camera seductively. her makeup is light, a strand of her bangs fall over her forehead and then you glimpse down. you feel your chest tighten as soon you see the panties peeking out, pants slipping down so you can get a tantalizing glimpse of the skin and–

you groan.

it’s four, and you’re working overtime – again; there are too many cases to examine and report – you can’t be riled up, especially not now. biting your lip, you put your phone down, deciding to push everything to the side.

getting back to work is not easy.

minari: 1 notification 

“you fucking hate me.” is mumbled under your breath before you peek over, unlocking your phone quickly to see a text:

minari: don’t ignore me baby

minari: miss you

minari: did you like the picture? 

oh you loved the picture, loved it so much that you wonder what it would be like to rip the clothes she has on right off of her.

you: :-( 

you: please dont do this to me

you: i’m working overtime

you: when will you be back?

minari: this weekend, friday night

you groan again, sitting back in your chair in defeat. that’s three days.

you: i have to get back to work

you: the things i’d do to you

you: you’re a pain in the ass

on the other side of the line, mina giggles. she’s satisfied with her effect on you, she can just picture the little crease of your brows, the frown, and really just how cute you look when you’re all pouty and impatient. 

she bites the inside of her lip after reading the second to last text from you, thinking about just what you could do to her, until she’s interrupted by one of the photographers. it isn’t easy to model when she’s missing you, she’d much rather show off her luxury panties to you than the cameras. 

–

you’re beat. literally and figuratively.

as someone accustomed to the comfort and safety of the forensics lab and the routine of the department, being dragged into a chase on a friday night is far from what you expected. you had plans to go home and wait for your girlfriend, ready to greet her with a hug and something more – but no, of course you had been caught in a pursuit.

after being treated by the nurses, they hand you a slip of paper for a follow-up check-up, but you wave it off, insisting that you'll be fine. however, it's clear that jihyo, the detective, has endured much worse. fresh stitches on her ribs, bruises covering her upper back and arms, a bloody nose, and a cut on her jaw, she's clearly been through a rough ordeal, thankfully spiderwoman stepped into help you all out. 

in comparison, your injuries seemed minor—a smack to the ribs, a punch or two to the face, and a close call with a punch that grazed your temple, resulting in a bit of blood and a bandage to cover it. 

when you finally get to your car, exhausted and limp against the seat, you check your phone while you wait for the air conditioning to turn on. 

there’s seven new messages from mina, earning a sigh. 

you read through all of them, each one slowly getting more worrisome as you scroll, which paints a frown on your lips. 

[6:03pm]

minari: i just got home

minari: where are you?

[7:44pm]

minari: i bet you’re busy, stay safe

minari: i’ll be waiting here

minari: love you, i hope you’re okay

[10:30pm}

minari: going to bed, i’ll see you soon love

minari: thinking of you

[10:58pm]

minari: wish you were here, goodnight, i love you

the pain that’s spread throughout your body doesn’t bother you anymore; the thought of your girlfriend alone in bed – finally home after her two week-long work trip – makes you groan frustratedly as you lean your face against the wheel of your car. 

you’ve got to get home.

–

it’s almost midnight when you get to your apartment and you don’t even make it to the bedroom.

you underestimated the toll of the fatigue, the bruises, and the damage done to your body – not to mention the countless sleepless hours leading up to this chaotic night. you've been tirelessly investigating various dna samples and physical evidence, neglecting your much-needed rest in favor of focusing on your work and trying to distract yourself from missing your girlfriend too much because that is already enough to throw you in a spiral. 

as soon as you catch sight of the couch, you practically collapse onto it, sinking into the cushions with a sense of relief. leaning back lazily, you feel the heaviness of your eyelids, each blink a struggle to keep them open for just a little longer.

mina crosses your mind and you feel sorry for leaving her alone, but you physically can’t do anything about that.

the exhaustion catches up to you, and then you find yourself passing out on the couch with your work clothes still on, tie loose, and no energy left to fight off the drowsiness. 

–

mina wakes up earlier than usual – still alone.

the sun hasn’t even risen yet, and she had expected to find you lazily draped over her, maybe with the blanket slipping off the bed and the feeling of your breath gently warming her skin. but as she wakes, she realizes that the blanket is still snugly wrapped around her, and her skin feels oddly cold.

she blinks once, then twice, and still, you’re not there.

getting up and reaching over blindly for her phone, she unlocks it groggily, opening your messages to see a “read, 11:40pm” 

mina furrows her brows, rubbing her squinted eyes to read the same message on the screen. she feels a pang of worry as she wonders why you haven't responded or called, and why you're not next to her right now. hastily, she checks your location, clicking on your contact photo, and then freezes in disbelief.

you're home?

the contact picture she has of you—your smushed face with drool leaving the corner of your lip—is only half a centimeter away from her on the screen. with a sense of urgency, she jumps out of bed and rushes to find you.

she walks out of the hall and into the living room, catching a glimpse of the back of your head on the couch. mina lets out a sigh of relief, walking over and standing in front of your figure.

you look adorable, sitting up against the couch with your head leaned back on the cushion. you stay frozen in place, the only movement coming from the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, which tells mina that you���re out. your hair is disheveled, you're still in your work clothes, and there's a new band-aid beside your brow on your temple. mina finds herself captivated by the sight, unable to tear her gaze away.

“long night, i bet.” mina mumbles, sitting down next to you and putting her head on your shoulder. you don’t budge, still remaining in your place.

mina kisses your cheek before returning to your shoulder, deciding to rest her eyes with you for a while more.

–

your girlfriend wakes up a few hours later – you’re still asleep by her side, still frozen in your place.

mina rubs her eyes against your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your body as she stirs awake for the second time that morning. fishing for her phone, she checks the time: 11:31 am. glancing back at you, still sound asleep, she decides it's time for both of you to start the day. she hasn't even had a chance to greet you while you were awake yet, and she misses your attention.

she presses a kiss to your cheek – no response.

pouting, she presses a few more to your cheek – you stay frozen in place, eyes closed and breathing still relaxed. 

then she moves over to your jawline, pressing a few pecks and moving down to your neck, the spot that earns the most from you – there’s a reaction, a small groan from you, and then you shift in your place – still no sign of consciousness. 

mina's never been a morning person, which only adds to her frustration. with a whine, she moves over to straddle you, settling herself on your lap.

“c’mon, i’ve been waiting for you.” she says, and still, it doesn’t wake you up. “wearing the same lingerie from the pictures and you’re still like this…” 

not only is she frustrated from missing you, she’s been irritated from how sex-deprived she’s been.

she brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, gently fixing the mess from whatever ordeal you endured last night, before taking a good look at you. the morning sunlight highlights the contours of your jawline, making your skin glow, and the slight parting of your lips adds to your allure. 

you look good—maybe even better than usual—and mina can't help but feel a surge of desire, fueled by her deprivation of you.

she tugs gently on the tie wrapped loosely around your neck, coaxing you forward. your head naturally falls forward in response, so mina tilts it up by the chin, cradling your face between her fingers.

“you look so cute,” mina sighs, rubbing a thumb over your skin. “i could take you like this.”

the two of you have talked about this – about fucking while one is asleep – and neither one of you was against it. however, it’s never actually happened, and sure mina’s daydreamed about this, and you have too, but she never thought there’d actually be such a perfect moment in time.

you’re asleep, looking all pretty, perfect, and downright fuckable – mina can’t help but bite her lip at the sight, grinding down against your lap a bit.

she shifts over to straddle one thigh in order to gain more friction, gasping at the second movement of her hips against you.

“maybe,” a small breath leaves her lips, “this’ll wake you up.”

another rut against your slacks and she’s shutting her eyes, fully waking herself up at the feeling.

mina’s usually never this horny, or bold for that matter, but after two weeks without her girlfriend with barely any time to talk to one another – she’s a whole new person.

holding onto one shoulder – earning a small mumble from you – mina grinds against you again. she’s only wearing your t-shirt, which sits loosely on her, and the panties from the picture she had sent – they’re soaked now.

her arms rest on the top of your shoulders now, and wrap around your neck as she clings onto you desperately. she feels hazy, seeing stars the faster she stimulates herself on you, and you have no fucking clue what’s going on. it honesly turns her on even more, getting to use you like this.

and when she thinks it can’t get anymore overwhelming, the feeling of her cunt against you, the thrill of making a mess of herself against you – she feels a rough, firm grip on her hips, then moves her head away from your neck to see your eyes slowly opening. 

“baby, w-what?” you sigh out lazily, trying to process everything that’s going on, “what are you–”

mina cuts you off with a kiss, to which you respond immediately with a hand cupping her cheek, and your lips fitting with hers perfectly. 

your girlfriend shudders against you, looking down at her cunt leaving a dark mark of arousal on your gray bottoms, then latches her lips onto your jawline. she leaves sensual kisses, waking you up from your deep sleep immediately. you melt as your hands reach the base of her neck.

she presses a peck on your upper jaw before muttering into your ear, “i missed– ah– you,” she says breathily.

“me too baby,” you respond with a sly smile, using your hands to push her down on your skin roughly, eliciting a loud moan into your ear.

she leans back, placing one hand on your shoulder while the other grabs the end of your tie. with a swift tug on the black cloth, you gasp in surprise. your face is close, close enough for mina to see your dilated pupils, creased brows, and flushed cheeks. it all adds to the allure, and tightens the knot in her stomach.

“y-you– fuck– left me all alone… l-last– god, nngh– night,” she struggles to say, especially when your thigh flexes. her hips jerk once before she grabs your hair roughly, then she throws her head back slightly, still making eye contact with you.

all your attention is on her, your eyes wide and pleading, like a puppy ready to answer and do anything she says. there's a mix of longing and desperation in your gaze, making you look arousingly pathetic and utterly irresistible simultaneously.

she tugs on your tie once more, earning a small whine, then orders: “you’re going to make me— u-ugh,  cum, okay?”

you nod eagerly, already helping her please herself against you with both hands again.

quickly, you tap your thigh up and rut her against you once more, the sensation and timing earns something near a yelp from her. mina pauses in her place and you feel her lower body vibrate against you as her high washes over, she practically melts, and her body goes a little limp as she tries to catch her breath.

you hold her tightly, supporting her body as it recovers from the overwhelming feeling. 

there’s a large, darkened spot on the cloth covering your whole thigh now, her arousal leaking over.

she kisses you again, basically taking the breath away from you. she traps your bottom lip between her two teeth, tugging gently to tease you – your grip on her tightens.

“y/n,” she says, climbing off your thigh and settling beside you.

you respond immediately, “yes?”

her hands toy with your tie again before she pulls dangerously. you whimper, biting the inside of your bottom lip. her manicured nails trace along your skin all the way up to the bandaid on your temple; you sigh out pathetically.

“where were you last night?” mina questions, letting her nail trace down your skin languidly. “no text, call, or girlfriend in my bed after two weeks of not seeing her.”

“i-i–” she tugs on your tie once more, tantalizingly, before rubbing two fingers on the cloth covering your cunt.s “mmf, i-i was caught in a pursuit and, we got into some um– some disagreements.” she presses on your cunt and your head shoots back – mina pulls again, making your head jerk forward to meet her dark gaze. “mina, please–”

“keep going, i didn’t tell you to stop, did i?”

you gulp. “n-no.”

she unzips your slacks now, skillfully unbuttoning it with one hand so she can play with your waistband. you fight the urge to look down, pleading with your eyes in an attempt for her to just fucking touch you.

pulling on the cloth again, she orders, “keep going.”

then she slides her fingers in, teasing your skin by rubbing circles above where you need it most. “j-jihyo um, she was beat up really–” mina presses against your clit, brushing her fingers over it softly and pushing your buttons. “fuck, really badly, a-and i– mmf–”

“you what, love?”

“p-please, please i need you, please just–”

“are you done with the story? i still don’t know why i woke up alone, and to find you dead asleep on the couch.” her tone is viscious, which makes you gulp again. 

“s-sorry,” you apologize, looking down at her hand in your panties. “i waited until everyone was, patched up and–” you throw your head back at the feeling of her fingers sliding up and down your slit. she tugs – you whimper, “s-sorry. and i saw your text and had to go home and– god, i had to rush home and by the time i–”

you feel her enter you just barely, pressing just the tip of her finger inside you, making you squirm and moan breathily. your head shoots down, your eyes shutting in response to the overwhelming stimulus. mina's touch is grueling as her fingers trail up to your chin, caressing it with a sensual tenderness. she tilts your head back up, and when your eyes meet hers.

“c’mon, use your words.”

“s-sorry, again.” you pant. “i got home and, t-these past weeks i couldn’t sleep without y-you and–” she pushes half of her middle finger in; you bite back a groan in order to finish your explanation. “i-i guess it caught up to me, and then i passed out here.” you sigh out quickly, looking at her deperately.

“you haven’t been taking care of yourself?” mina asks, looking at you pitifully. her hand cups your cheek now, “love…”

“i just, missed you.”

mina frowns, rubbing her thumb on your cheek. “let me take care of you baby.”

“please,” you beg, “just, god, just touch me already.”

mina kisses your lips again, and as she does so, you groan into her lips as she pushes two fingers into your soaking cunt. 

they enter seamlessly, earning a desperate mix of a cry and a whimper out of those puffy lips of yours. she brings her fingers out, and with the same thrill – pushes them back in, almost double the force. your hand grips your own thigh, overwhelmed by the way she flattens her palm against your clit, tormenting your pussy. 

mina’s lips start to roam your neck, leaving marks that’ll stay for days, marks that’ll have you reprimanded but you don’t fucking care. she’s been gone for two weeks, way too long and fucking yourself to pictures of her on your phone could never compare to what you’re feeling right now.

she can feel your tightening around her fingers, you were always so easy to rile up, so sensitive and vocal about everything that made you feel good. so when she curls her fingers and feels your hand snake to her hair, practically pulling it off her scalp, she knows you’re close already.

and then you’re lazily grinding your hips against her, slacks now caught at your ankles as your panties start to soak up the arousal leaking from your entrance. your legs close, but mina opens them, getting rougher with her fingers and hitting your clit with her palm. 

“m-mina,” you whine, “i’m close, god, so close,”

“yeah?” she says softly, in a way that sends a shiver throughout your whole body. “cum for me then, c’mon baby, you deserve it after all your hard work.”

you manage to look her in the eye, brows creased to oblivion and your jaw dropped before it picks itself up so you can mutter a shaky “m–hmm.”

her thumb moves swiftly to brush your clit, which is enough to send you over the edge, leaving you to shake against the couch and rock your hips up. she watches you cry out, the rise of your chest – then the fall, and feels her hand grow damp with your climax.

she continues to massage your clit, sliding her fingers up and down your entrance simultaneously to let you ride out your high, bringing you back down to earth, letting your vision go from hazy to normal again.

“m-mina, fuck, baby,” is all you can mutter before she pulls you forward with your tie, kissing your swollen, reddened lips. your words muffle against her and your hands grip her shoulder tightly before loosening the more you kiss.

you feel dizzy, dizzy in the best way possible with her lips on yours, tongues swirling and kisses growing sloppier. 

and then mina pulls away one more time, twisting the fabric of your tie around her pointer as she gazes at you; dark red marks – almost purple, each the size of a quarter – are plastered on the skin of your neck, your eyes are closed as you breath heavily, and your hair is even more ruffled than before. you’re trembling, mina always liked how cute and overstimulated you are after you cum, so riled up and thrown off that it makes her want to kiss you till you’re struggling to bring air into your lungs.

she brings a hand to your hair, brushing the messy strands that hang over your pretty face in order to then cup your cheeks again. she smiles at you, grinning at the mess she’s made.

“awake now?”

“very.” you sigh out, bringing your hand over to her thigh to rub circles on it. “i’m really sorry for leaving you alone last night.”

mina shakes her head. “it’s fine, you had your job to do love.” 

“i would’ve enjoyed doing you instead.” you joke, pouting at her cutely. “god, do you know how annoying it is to be horny when your girlfriend isn’t home?”

your girlfriend rests her head against the cushion, then turns to face you. “oh i know. i waited all night for you, you know?”

turning to her and giving her an apologetic frown, you apologize again, “sorry.”

mina rolls her eyes at you, giggling. 

she holds your hand and uses the other to brush her fingers over the marks she’s made on your neck, making your breath hitch.

“make it up to me with a few more rounds?”

yeah, you’re tired as hell, even after eleven hours of sleep. you’ve just came and it took the life out of you – plus, you’re seriously just exhausted, but the way your cunt throbs at the suggestion urges you to lean over and kiss her again.

you pull away, lips brushing against hers before you answer against her, “ruin me.”

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request brothers of Obey Me with an s/o who's a medical expert?

Obey me Brothers + medical expert s/o

Lucifer

Finds it interesting.

He doesn’t know much about human anatomy or medicine, so it’s always interesting when someone knows more about a topic than he does.

Really has no interest in the physicality of humans or healing. Just interested in their knowledge and hobby.

Provides them with as many resources as possible if they wish to learn demon medicine as well. But only if they want to.

Mammon

Probably says a lot about him that he finds it so hot….

Hearing them talk about medicine, and take authority in an emergency, gets his blood going.

He has no idea what they are talking about, as he’s pretty think with anything biology or health related, but it sounds impressive.

Makes jokes about wanting to play doctor, but gets too flustered & embarrassed if they take him up on it to follow through.

Levi

Finds it interesting, but only for fact checking games or his otome fanfic needs.

He got really into medical information when Hataraku Saibō came out. However he quickly lost interest when he had to actually learn stuff and look at pictures of blood.

Levi has a slight Hemophobia complex.

Will go ask them things like “how quickly does the human body drain of blood?” “what’s the difference between a laceration and a hematoma?” “could someone live if they were stabbed in the stomach 13 times?” For literary purposes only.

Satan

Of course loves anything to do with knowledge, and the amount of reading required to become a medical expert is just a bonus.

Satan also has an interest in medicine and medical information due to his love of mystery drama, which are his favorite type.

Forensic knowledge has a great crossover. So he spends a lot of time speculating with s/o on the cause of death or suspects in a book before it reaches the end.

Finds a lot of obscure medical books & journals to share with them, should they cross his path.

Asmo

Says he’s interested, but only to play doctor.

A lot of it really goes over his head as Asmo is only interested in figures. Not literal anatomy.

He does like to listen to them though, as they always get so passionate when they talk about some medical marvel of obscure fact. He’s always found passion to be a person’s sexiest quality.

Dresses up like a nurse a lot to surprise them. Thinks it’s helpful.

Beel

A lot of it is too technical for Beel too, but he tries to pay more attention than Asmo.

He is actually really interested in anatomy. Particularly as it relates to kinesis and physicality.

He asks a lot of questions on how to move his body better to improve his results. Or avoid injury.

Injuries do happen though, as it’s inevitable with sports or the high intensity work outs, he’s doing. Goes to s/o to have them bandage him up and take care of him. They always have to ask if he’s running a fever as well with how much he blushes.

Belphie

Belphie is a bit of the medical expert too. He had a lot of time to read when he was locked up in that attic, and anatomy was actually always an interest of his before s/o.

He plays dumb though and acts like he doesn’t understand things, so they’ll reteach him. Mostly just to hear them talk.

He also plays sick a lot so they’ll take care of him. Not necessarily a Munchausen, just needy.

It usually works. However there are sometimes when the treatments get a little….intense, and more than he bargained for. At least they haven’t tried surgery on him yet.

[tumbleweed-writes]

Death and the Lady: Chapter Four

Previous chapter found HERE

This chapter is slightly nsfw. So, 18+ only.

-----

Chapter Four: An Arrangement

Deputy David Hale usually didn’t make Y/N Y/L/N feel any sense of anxiety. To be honest, most of the time she was around him she just felt a little annoyed.

Her past interactions with the Charming police were a mixed bag.

Back when she’d been going through her wild phase with SAMCRO her interactions with the local police usually ended with her in handcuffs. Now that she was back in town and operating as a local funeral director, her interactions with the police tended to involve making arrangements for police escorts for funeral processions.

To be honest her feelings towards Charming’s local P.D. were quite conflicted given her past indiscretions…and her current ones. 

She’d always found Deputy Hale to be arrogant and just a little too self righteous for comfort.

David Hale had been in the same grade as both her brother, Jax Teller and Opie Winston when she’d been growing up. All four guys had been five years older than her, so they’d not really interacted outside of the interactions all three men had shared with her older brother.

Of course, that had changed once she’d gotten older and her brother had his accident. After that her interactions with Hale weren’t pleasant and her interactions with Jax and Opie were chaotic. 

Before the accident, her elder brother had been childhood friends with Deputy Hale all the way up until middle school when it had become obvious that her brother was finding new friendships with Jax and Opie.

It had become clear that David disapproved of Daniel Y/L/N’s newfound friendships. 

Even as a teenager, Hale seemed to carry around the notion that he was superior to the kids of Charming’s white trash biker gang. 

Y/N had gotten a certain level of respect from Hale as had her brother as their father was a respected member of the community…well they’d gotten respect before they’d rebelled and proved they were comfortable interacting with the white trash biker gang. 

Hale himself came from one of the more affluent families in Charming. Generations of the Hales were politicians, lawyers, and doctors.

David Hale had seemed to believe that his family background meant that he was somehow far better than the new friends Daniel Y/L/N had acquired. 

In Y/N’s opinion the Hales were nothing special. Everyone was equal in death after all. She had very little tolerance for people who tried to pretend they were somehow more important than anyone else. She didn’t care for snobbish people especially when she knew they’d wind up on her embalming table right where the same people they’d looked down upon had laid as well.

From what she could remember David Hale had been the All-American boy. He was the kind of guy who knew he wanted to grow up and serve the community. He was a boy scout. He played baseball in the spring and summer and football in the fall for the local high school. He attended church on Sunday and volunteered at the nursing home as a teen. 

She guessed she shouldn’t be shocked that even as a man in his thirties David Hale was still just as pious as he’d always been. 

If this had been any other scenario she’d almost find it funny to find that Hale had maintained the same short hair cut he’d had since he was a teenager. She’d always thought it made him appear a little boring especially when they’d been teens. Wasn’t being a teen the time where you did stupid crap to your hair after all? 

Standing near the Deputy sheriff, a few other members of Charming PD’s finest, and a borrowed modest forensic unit from Lodi near an open grave made her feel less than amused at the moment though.

She’d felt sick to her stomach when she’d received the call early this morning that another grave in Charming’s cemetery had been robbed. This was the second one within such a short time period.

Both graves had previously been occupied by men she had buried and embalmed. She’d been asked to come out by the Deputy and at least give her insight on what had happened. 

She hoped and prayed that the look of astonishment on her face, as she arrived at the cemetery, read as someone who was simply horrified by the situation and not at all aware of exactly who was responsible for this.

She gazed down into the empty casket both astounded and relieved to see that the sacks of dry concrete she’d filled the casket with were long gone. 

It seemed that whoever had done this had been smart enough to make it appear as though she’d buried a body in the casket and not sacks of concrete.

She knew the concrete had been a risk, but it had been necessary for the funeral. A full casket weighed more than an empty one. She’d just been relieved that she was right that the man’s family had no desire to see what laid within the casket. 

The man’s funeral had actually been quite sparse. From her interactions with the family regarding funeral arrangements it had seemed that the man had not had many friends in life and wasn’t the kind of guy that warranted a room full of mourners. She hated to talk ill of the dead, but she’d gotten the impression he’d not been the nicest guy. 

She hated to admit it but the information had made her feel less guilty about the fact that she’d technically loaned the guy’s body to the local MC.

She knew of course that the thought was a weak attempt to mentally absolve herself from her guilt. 

She’d be lying if she tried to claim she hadn't had a few nightmares about what she’d done. Most of the dreams featured her walking through the cemetery at night following a Son who she was sure might be Filip from what she could see through the pitch black night, only to have hands shoot out from the ground below her dragging her down screaming before she could escape.

She’d woken up in cold sweats hyperventilating more times than she cared to admit over the past month. 

Y/N didn’t need to be Sigmund Freud or Carl Jung to figure out the symbolism behind such nightmares. Her brain was taunting her both about her guilt over her actions and her newfound involvement with a group of men she’d thought she’d moved on from. 

As she stood over the empty grave she was overcome with the notion that she knew just who was likely responsible for the scene in front of her. 

Jax and Chibs had apparently not been lying to her when they’d reassured her that the favor she’d done for the club would not lead back to her.

It was clear they had done this to make it appear as though any discovery of the missing bodies was a result of a simple grave robbery and she was the stunned funeral director who genuinely had no idea how such an awful thing could happen.

She took a deep breath feeling a little anxious as she’d watched the one lone forensic scientist who’d come out to investigate, swab the inside of the casket. She knew well enough that the body had resided in the casket at one point. 

The man’s father had wanted one view of him in the casket before he’d insisted that a closed casket funeral was exactly what the family wanted. 

Any DNA would lead back to the dead man. Bodies did at times leak despite the best efforts to embalm.

She knew if there were any traces of concrete that might have leaked out of those bags she could play it dumb and blame it on the casket manufacturer. 

She highly doubted she’d have to play stupid in some interrogation though.

She tried to keep her face neutral as Hale turned to face her he quick to speak. “What do you make of this?”

She kept her voice even hoping it didn’t betray her with any signs of deception as she spoke. “I have no idea. He was there the last time I saw him.”

“And when was that?” Hale replied, gazing at her clearly studying her in a way that made her feel as though she was under a microscope.

She sighed adjusting the light black wool coat she’d worn over her black dress today. Even if this was just to come out and stare at an open grave she knew she had to look like the town’s funeral director. “When I screwed the casket shut before the funeral service. The family made it clear they didn’t want to see him like that. His father asked that the casket be sealed shut in case someone tried to go against the family’s wishes.”

She wasn’t lying. That had been the order she’d been given from the deceased’s father. Although there hadn’t been many mourners it had been clear that those who did attend were part of a somewhat dysfunctional bunch who didn’t seem to get along.

Hale nodded his head placing his hands on his hips, the action making him look all too self-important in her opinion. “Did anyone else have access to the body other than you?”

She sighed nodding her head back at Skeeter who’d recently gotten back in town the night before and seemed clueless as to what he’d come home to. She’d almost felt bad for the guy when he’d found out he’d have to tag along for this little adventure. “Skeeter was out of town. He’s usually the one who helps me set up the final touches on things prior to funerals. Old Charlie helps out a little too, but he’s getting up there. He’s nearing seventy soon. I highly doubt he’s going to start robbing graves when he’s been around this long.”

She paused thinking of the old man who was her father’s longest associate. Charles Olsen or Old Charlie as he insisted on being called, had developed a limp from arthritis but that didn’t stop him from doing a few of the more labor intensive jobs around the funeral home. He’d been a practical partner to her father in the business at one point, but he insisted his days of embalming were behind him as his body was beginning to feel worn with age. He had a harder time being up on his feet for the amount of time it took to embalm.

Of course that didn’t stop him from wanting to help out in other ways. He’d always been fond of her and she guessed he felt he owed it to her late father to help out any way he could. He’d practically watched Y/N grow up. He'd always been there. He'd been loyal to her father and now he was loyal to her. 

She was always willing to treat him well in exchange for his loyalty. Lord knows with the financial struggles she’d had, Old Charlie and Skeeter both could have found better jobs by now with funeral homes that were doing much better.

Her way of appreciating the loyalty tended to be shared bits of casserole she’d made for dinner and the occasional bought lunch or dinner especially if they had to be out late for a body pick up. 

She spoke again, shrugging her shoulders hoping she sounded honest. “The only other people who had access to the decedent were the gravediggers hired by the city.”

Hale let out a huff seemingly disappointed that she didn’t provide him with any information that could break the case. He spoke up nodding at the empty casket. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

She sighed, being honest this time around. “A couple of times. It’s not a common occurrence. I saw it once or twice back in New York. Usually it’s old graves that are hit though…usually just edgy teens breaking into a crypt to steal a skull or something.”

She paused, shaking her head. “People are sick.”

“That they are. The deceased was found in Lodi, along with the other occupant of that first grave that was robbed…looks like someone used them to stage a crime scene. Doesn't seem odd to you that it took this long for someone to notice that this grave was disturbed. The cemetery groundskeeper spotted that first disturbed grave pretty quickly.” Hale remarked he once again seemingly studying her. 

She frowned, not liking that he was clearly watching her as though he was awaiting some kind of tell that she knew more than she did. She pushed back the thought telling herself that she was being paranoid.

“You don’t say? That’s something new. I can't say it seems odd, in my professional opinion. This is an older section of the cemetery, so less mourners. The deceased's family lives a few cities over, so I imagine they haven't been out to the site since the burial. I'm sure if anyone passed this one by they may have assumed that it was just an empty grave for an upcoming burial. In my experience deputy, most people don't peek into empty graves. So, they wouldn't have spotted the empty casket. Plus, the city only does landscaping in the cemetery every couple of months...Seems reasonable to me to think this could have sat unnoticed this long. I can't believe someone would go to all that trouble just to stage a crime scene. Who’d do such a thing?” She remarked, almost proud of herself for being able to conjure up the shock.

She knew her reaction was genuine of course. It wasn’t as though SAMCRO had let her in on their intentions for the bodies they’d requested from her.

Hale let out a small scoff he fast to reply. “I have my suspicions of who might be the culprits.”

She raised a well manicured brow tilting her head to the side playing dumb. “I'm safe to assume it’s confidential information? Given the obvious investigation and all.”

Hale practically glared straight through her, he fast to respond. “It’s out of my jurisdiction. Lodi P.D. doesn't seem to be interested in what I have to say. As far as they’re concerned this is some sick prank done by some very disturbed individuals. They’re looking into a few suspects of their own…local freaks who’ve been caught loitering around cemeteries in their area.”

She nodded her head trying not to show relief that Lodi’s police weren’t interested in any of Hale’s input. “I hope they find the responsible parties. Things like this are bad for business. I can’t have the bereaved of Charming fearing their loved ones are going to yanked from their final rests. Something like this has the opportunity to sow chaos and paranoia. I’m sure you’d agree.”

Hale sent her a look that could only be described as stern, his lips tight and his eyes narrowed. “Yeah, bad for business.”

He paused, deciding to push a little more. “Speaking of the business. How is that going?”

Y/N pushed a stray bit of hair behind her ear, the bit of hair having managed to work itself loose from the twist she’d put her hair into this morning. “It’s going. It’s been a challenge. My father’s health left a few things around the funeral home in disarray. I think it’s turning around though. Business has been good lately.”

“And how is your brother?” Hale dared to ask watching Y/N straighten out her dress under her coat.

She resisted the urge to glare at him, her brother not entirely a favorite subject of hers to discuss. “He’s fine. He’s started new meds.”

She spoke again, a sigh leaving her. “Is that all you needed, Deputy? I should get back to the funeral home. I have a few phone calls to make regarding this entire mess. The family has already left me a few voicemails I’m sure. I need to do damage control and promise that I will either rebury their loved ones or help them transfer their business to a new funeral home if they desire once the bodies are released back to the families.”

She knew it wasn’t a lie. She was so not looking forward to those phone calls. She was sure she’d be refunding some money so that she didn’t get sued though she had a feeling the families would more likely sue the city given they were in charge of the cemetery and she’d done her part on burying the dead as far as anyone knew. 

“Of course, I do have some concerns though.” Hale replied, deciding to push a little harder.

She cleared her throat hoping any annoyance she showed was more over this situation than the practical interrogation she was enduring. “Yes?”

He spoke knowing she’d probably bite his head off for this. “I know before you left town you weren’t exactly on the straightened arrow Y/N. Am I right in assuming you aren’t going to fall back into any old habits?”

She glared at him, her voice tense and sharp. “I don’t feel that this is an appropriate line of questioning, Deputy. My past is exactly that, in the past. I’ve not gotten as much as a speeding ticket for almost ten years now. My behavior as a teen and in the first year of my twenties is not at all reflective of my conduct as a grown woman. I don’t appreciate being treated like a common criminal especially when my biggest sins consist of underage drinking and some mild misdemeanors. I have worked very hard to clean up my act. I highly doubt it’s the local P.D.’s job to go around condemning innocent citizens for past misbehaviors. If that’s the case then you need to go down and arrest George Goldstein for spray painting the water tower when he was sixteen and maybe arrest Judy Mitchell for the pot she was busted with when she was fifteen.”

She cringed a bit knowing she sounded defensive but she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t believe he’d had the audacity.

Though a voice in the back of her head told her he was right to have the audacity. After all, she’d made contact with the very people who’d encouraged her bad behaviors back then. 

She had done far worse now than some underage drinking and a few public nuisance charges. 

Hale held his hands up in defeat he quick to reply. “I don’t mean any offense Y/N. I promise. I just had to ask. I am happy to have you back in town, especially seeing as you seem to have matured since I last saw you. I’m happy to see you’ve cleaned up your act. Your association with Jax Teller and SAMCRO did always trouble me, given our history.”

She scoffed quick to reply. “We don’t have a history Deputy. You hanging around my brother until you guys were thirteen doesn’t create some weird bond between us.”

She paused, taking a deep breath cooling her temper reminding herself that she couldn’t let him get her all riled up. She had to keep her calm and play the role of a totally innocent funeral director who knew nothing about the local MC or what they’d done with those bodies. 

She spoke, clearing her throat. “As I’ve said, I need to be going. I have a busy day ahead of me. If you have any further inquiries about these graves please don’t hesitate to reach out. You can reach me at the business number for the funeral home.”

With that she turned leaving Hale behind her not noticing that the deputy did have the sense to look a little browbeaten by her comments.

She clenched her fists as Skeeter opened the door to the transport van , they usually used for body pickups, for her before he got into the driver's seat. It was obvious he was more than sure his boss was too pissed to be behind the wheel of a van.

Skeeter didn’t speak until they left the cemetery property. “Are you as innocent as you proclaim to be?”

“I could ask you the same thing?” She remarked adjusting her seatbelt around her neck , the seatbelt was always sitting too high on her body and cutting into her skin.

Skeeter let out a huff at the comment he fast to reply. “Touche.”

He spoke again, shaking his head. “Do I need to be concerned?”

“About what?” She asked, staring down at her nails making the mental note to get a manicure tomorrow she could use a refresh though she usually just had her nails trimmed and painted with gel polish. 

It was a luxury she allowed herself along with the occasional pedicure.

Skeeter sent her a small stern glance fast to respond. “You know what.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

Skeeter let out a huff, his hands gripping down on the steering wheel. “That’s what I used to say when I helped out SAMCRO too.”

She felt her stomach drop guilt flooding her, knowing she’d essentially stolen Skeeter’s side gig right out from under him.

She spoke, keeping her voice even and collected. “Everything is fine.”

She paused, shaking her head a small smile crossing her lips though it was weak. “You don’t need to fret over me. I’m a grown woman. I don’t need some man to come along and handle all my problems."

She let out a small laugh fast to speak again. "You know, If I didn’t know better I’d assume your concern meant you were sweet on me.”

Skeeter let out a scoff at the comment, shaking his head a small smile eventually crossing his features. “You aren’t really my type…You’re a little too…”

“A ball buster, a cold hard bitch…oh, a shrew, a C You Next Tuesday with a stick permanently lodged up her ass, a domineering witch with control issues a mile long who must constantly be PMSing. A spooky bitch.” She remarked, the small smile still on her lips remaining she finding humor in poking at her associate about just what kind of reputation she had among the local male population.

Skeeter rolled his eyes quick to reply. “I value my job too much to give any confirmation.”

She chuckled, giving his arm a small pat the words that left her genuine. “And I value you too much as a friend not to be offended by any confirmation.”

Skeeter shook his head as she removed her hand, his voice once again taking a serious tone. “I don’t like you being involved with SAMCRO.”

“What’s good for the gander is good for the goose.” She replied her voice picking up a mild tone of offense over the implication that he was implying that she shouldn’t do anything he might have done. 

“I know, I’m a hypocrite for saying it…just be careful Y/N. You aren’t just my boss…I do care about you. I know just where the Sons can lead you.” Skeeter replied, his voice still holding that serious tone. She couldn’t ignore the hint of dread underneath the tone.

She sighed, shaking her head. “I know, I’m being as careful as I can be. I know SAMCRO well enough. I think we’re both aware of my history.”

Skeeter cringed knowing he’d been around during her wild streak. He’d been apprenticing under her father then. 

She spoke as she reached out, turning up the air in the car. “We both have our indiscretions, Skeet. Let’s just leave this conversation at that.”

He sighed nodding his head, his voice still so serious. “I know.”

He spoke again, shaking his head as they turned down the road heading towards main street. “I feel bad for saying it, but it's kind of a relief for me…The cash from those favors for SAMCRO, it was a little too dangerous to have in my hands.”

“How’s it going…you avoiding triggers?” She dared to ask, well aware of the man’s gambling problem.

She was always worried it would interfere with his ability to work, but he managed aside from the occasional favor he did for SAMCRO that she was all too aware of. 

“It’s going.” was the only response she received.

He glanced over at her needing to say it again. “Just be careful, okay. I don’t want you getting in over your head. Try to learn from my mistakes.”

“I won’t get in over my head. I’ve got it covered. Like I said, everything is fine.” She insisted, uncertain if she was trying to convince him or just trying to convince herself.

—--------------------------------------------------

The news of the empty graves had spread fast and weeks later it was still buzzing around town.

Y/N as the town’s most prominent funeral director was getting sick of the unprompted questions she was being asked by her fellow residents of Charming.

She tried not to grimace as she accepted the fresh cut of skirt steak from the local meat guy at Charming’s biggest grocery store, which honestly wasn’t that big at all. 

The butcher who she was sure was named Oscar spoke looking almost giddy to get to grill her for information. “You find out who robbed those graves yet?”

“No, I’m pretty sure Lodi’s police have it covered.” She replied, trying to keep her voice level and hide any signs of irritation.

He spoke all too eager and ditzy enough to keep the questions coming. “I guess you must see a lotta sick stuff at your job though. I mean you hear the stories.”

“What stories?” She asked, widening her eyes slightly giving a false sense of innocence knowing her best course of action was to play dumb and let him maybe reflect on just how inappropriate this all was.

He shifted in place a bit, his cheeks growing dark enough that they almost matched his thinning red hair. “Uh, you know…you hear stories bout folks who wanna dig up corpses for…uh companionship.”

She cringed her stomach turning at the implication he was making. She spoke a tone of disapproval in her voice “I haven’t heard those stories in my line of work. Any reports of…that happening in the industry are greatly exaggerated.”

With that she tossed the meat into her cart turning to leave she still feeling a little queasy about the entire exchange.

She took a deep breath reminding herself that people had all sorts of wild preconceived notions about people who were attracted to her line of work.

She kept her mind focused on her grocery list. 

For once it seemed that she actually had the budget to buy more than top ramen and produce. 

The payouts from SAMCRO had helped her put money towards a few debts she’d had hanging over her head both relating to her brother’s health issues and improvements her father tried to make around the funeral home.

Her father had spent more than he’d made at one point trying to upkeep the home and now she was left picking up the tab.

Business had picked up as well. It seemed that even with the wild stories flying around about grave robberies that Charming’s residents were willing to use her services.

She’d had enough funerals lately to put some money in her bank account. There had been a car wreck with two casualties, a widow who’d died of a stroke, and most recently some teen had drowned out at a lake up near the Chigger Woods.

She felt bad knowing that people’s losses were her payouts. She knew though that this was the reality of her line of work.

When business was good, that most likely meant someone else was suffering.

She wasn't rolling in money, but she felt like she was close to breaking even. She felt comfortable enough to buy some decent groceries and she felt like she could kind of breathe. She knew she wasn't entirely financially stable, if any surprise expenses came up she might be in trouble. She wasn't fretting over money as much as she'd been though before she'd accepted the Son's payout.

SAMCRO had not come knocking for any more favors. It was something that gave her relief but troubled her.

She wasn’t exactly kicking down her door wanting to see Jax Teller or Tig Trager again, but the absence of SAMCRO after the favor she’d done for them made her feel uneasy.

No one had even shown up to address the obvious grave robberies when both she and they knew just who had done it.

She couldn’t help but to feel a little bitter knowing SAMCRO had disappeared without a trace and had left her to deal with the fallout.

She should have known better by now.

Y/N also had to admit she was missing the presence of a certain Scotsman. 

It was a strange realization to have. She barely knew the man aside from the surprisingly pleasant conversation they’d had in the cemetery that night almost a full month before.

As hard as she tried to deny it, she had to admit Filip spiked her curiosity.

She found him contradicting in a way. 

He looked rough. She’d be blind to deny it. The scars, the general unkemptness, the intense and clearly dangerous energy surrounding him…it was all parts of him that should send her running in the opposite direction.  

He’d seemed so concerned about her that night at the crematorium and the cemetery though. She had a feeling it had something more to do than any worry about her wandering the cemetery after dark. She’d picked up on the implication that he almost seemed to care about how she was coping with everything that had been asked of her. She could remember the little looks he’d sent her throughout the night especially when his brothers said something uncouth. He’d been so quick to make a show of smacking Juice for being so insensitive during the cremation. It almost seemed as though the Scot cared what she thought of him. 

Her brain kept flashing back to that conversation they’d had as she was digging a hole for those cremains. It was small talk honestly, but she’d never had small talk with someone about the beauty of the stars.

In a strange way it almost felt like he was trying to connect with her.

She felt absurd for the thought. 

A voice in the back of her head told her all men were the same; especially men in the MC.

They classified women into two groups: girls they wanted to fuck and girls who they didn’t want to fuck.

A bitter voice told her that any attention the Scottish Son had given her was more likely him hoping to charm his way into her pants and that she shouldn’t read too deeply into it.

Another little voice piped up that him getting into her pants wasn’t such a horrible thing was it?

She’d been frankly going through a dry spell for a few years now. Her bedroom was quite frigid. Usually she had to seek out a bit of self release for her frustrations. 

She had a hard time dating. Most men ran screaming when they realized what she did for a living. Her dating life consisted of men who worked in her industry. Her longest relationship had been with a fellow student during her time at mortuary school. She’d found that her partners disappointed her though. If they didn’t run screaming they just seemed like they didn’t click with her. 

The Scotsman didn’t seem to be running…though he’d not contacted her since that night in the cemetery.

Even with the radio silence lately she could remember he’d been quite flirty with her. It had felt different from Jax’s methods of flirtation. 

There was something kind of charming about the Scot. His little flirtations had seemed genuine and not just a means to get something out of her. It was so unlike the way the flirtation had always felt with Jax. 

She would be a liar if she tried to pretend that the phone conversation the Scotsman and she had about the Son’s use of the cremator that night didn’t send a thrill through her. 

It was alarming that the sound of his voice alone and a little pet name like love could pull that reaction from her. She’d tried to deny it but she did feel a certain heat spread through her under his gaze. She was almost certain her clit would throb like a broken tooth just from his gaze and voice alone, and she didn’t want to even think about those  dimples or the intensity behind his eyes.

She’d maybe noticed he had nice hands too; sort of elegant as strange as that sounded. He had long fingers and she had to admire the golden biker rings lining them. She had noticed and appreciated the fact this nails were neatly trimmed. In her opinion most guys neglected their nails. There was nothing grosser than dirty fingernails on a guy who expected to shove those fingers in more delicate areas. 

The Scotsman’s hands seemed strong and as though they understood a hard day's work. She had to imagine the roughness of his hands might feel incredible against her soft skin. 

She found herself distinctly remembering a roommate she’d had for a short while when she’d first moved to New York. The girl had praised the wonders of older men in the bedroom.

She’d remarked that Y/N’s disappointment in the bedroom stemmed from the fact that she was relying on boys to do something a man could do a hell of a lot better.

Y/N had hated to admit it but the comment did seem likely. She’d lost track of the times she’d laid in bed after a sexual encounter and found she’d not reached her end, but her partner had definitely got there all too quickly. It was made worse by the fact that she’d had to fake it so as not to bruise the poor guy’s egos.

She’d not had many partners back in New York, but the few she’d had had been a let down.

A voice claimed that the Scottish Son would not let her down in bed. Filip seemed old enough to have figured out how to please a woman by now.

She groaned, tossing a jar of peanut butter into her cart as she neared the check out lane. She did not need to be going down this road.

She once again mentally scolded herself that Filip was not getting anywhere near her bed nor any other surface for that matter.

She’d outgrown the desire to spread her legs for bad boys on Harleys. 

She ignored that obnoxious voice that piped up that Filip was no boy.

Y/N began to drop her items on the conveyor belt at the check out probably a little too harshly but she was tired and annoyed both from questions from seemingly everyone about grave robberies and her own mental dilemma about her feelings towards a certain Scottish Son.

She felt her stomach turn as she heard a voice behind her. “Y/N?”

She turned trying to seem as though she wasn’t ready to have a nervous breakdown as her gaze met the gaze of Dr. Tara Knowles.

She spoke her voice tight hoping the good doctor would read her expression as general sleepiness from errands. “Tara.”

“How are you?” the woman replied clearly happy to catch up.

Y/N cleared her throat placing a bag of spinach on the belt. “I’m well, just busy lately, tired, and you?”

“Same. Though I can’t imagine how stressed you probably are. I don’t blame you for being tired. Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask about the graves…I imagine you’ve been asked enough.” Tara replied the comment soothing Y/N slightly.

She shifted in place as she watched the cashier scan her items, the older woman moving at a snail's pace. 

Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if Tara knew about her history with Jax Teller. Tara had been long gone and had left Charming by the time Y/N had begun hanging around SAMCRO.

Y/N was all too aware of the hole Tara had left behind in Jax Teller though.

Y/N had easily realized she had at times operated as a place for Jax to fill that void if only for a short moment. It had become clear from the very few encounters he’d had with her that she wasn’t the woman he wanted underneath him.

Y/N had been upset about it at the time not because she had held any romantic notions for the Prince of SAMCRO, but because she’d allowed herself to be used in that way.

It was one of the many reasons Y/N had pulled from that world.

She almost found it strangely amusing that two women who had both run away from SAMCRO were standing side by side. Two women who were similar in more ways than they realized.

Tara spoke, nodding her head. “I’m sorry to hear about your father. It seems like you’ve got the home running though?”

“I have…I’m sorry about your father as well.” Y/N remarked, still having to admit she wasn’t entirely accustomed to the showings of sympathy when it came to her late father.

The funeral had felt surreal and she’d barely registered the words of the mourners who’d shown their respects.

A small part of her had to wonder if Tara had felt the same about her own father. She almost wanted to ask, but the question felt far too sensitive for old acquaintances. 

Tara had been around back then of course, hanging out with Y/N’s brother and Jax and Opie.

Y/N had been younger though, not entirely prone to tagging along with the older kids.

Tara cleared her throat as she responded Y/N placing the divider down between their groceries. “Thank you. It’s strange being back here…it’s like some things are exactly how I left them. I’m sure you know the feeling. I mean, you’re back as well.”

“I am…it does feel like some things about this place exist in a vacuum…things outside change but everything within remains.” Y/N replied having to admit she felt the same in more ways than Tara realized.

Tara cleared her throat again as she spoke, placing her own groceries down on the belt. “I don’t suppose you heard about Jax?”

She raised an eyebrow, paranoia running through her. Why was Tara asking her about the Sons?

Tara spoke again, shaking her head. “I mean, I know you probably haven’t seen him in years…I know Danny was close to us all…before the accident.” 

Y/N glared down at the pears as they passed by her on the conveyor belt, the mention of her brother and who he’d been before the accident making her feel terrible. “I know.”

Tara spoke again, smart enough to realize she’d struck a nerve. She seemed eager to get on with it and make sure Y/N knew this wasn’t some way to bring up her brother and make her feel awful. “Uh, Jax is a dad now.”

Y/N widened her eyes at the news, it hitting her like a brick to the head. She never would have suspected. She sighed, shaking her head. “Didn’t even know he got anyone pregnant.”

“His ex wife…she’s in bad shape. It’s not my place to share it, but the baby…Abel, he’s premature. I’ve been taking care of him up at Saint Thomas.” Tara shared she resisted the urge to go into too much detail.

Tara certainly wasn’t going to explain Wendy’s medical history nor the antagonism from Gemma Teller Morrow.

Y/N furrowed her brow at the information. It seemed that things in Charming hadn’t stayed as in a vacuum as Tara and she had been discussing. 

She felt a chill run down her spine at the mention of Abel Teller. Her line of work meant she’d taken care of a few premature infants who didn’t make it.

It was a depressing reality about her profession; children died.

She had proven to be quite proficient in dealing with infant and child mortalities. It was something the funeral director she’d apprenticeshiped under in New York had praised her for.

Y/N was capable of providing a nurturing environment to mourn for parents and keeping her wits about her enough to get the job done.

Everyone had a talent. Y/N kind of hated that one of her talents consisted of comforting and tending to bereaved parents and their dead kids.

She spoke hoping and praying that she wouldn’t be attending to Abel Teller. “How is he?...the baby?”

“It was hit and miss at first. Only time will tell.” Tara replied she biting her tongue, resisting to spill her heart to Y/N about everything she was feeling.

She had a feeling it was mostly due to the fact that Y/N was also returning to her hometown after the death of a parent. 

Tara had a feeling that Y/N might be able to relate on that issue, even if Y/N’s issue didn’t exactly also include SAMCRO and a history with it.

Y/N cleared her throat as her final item was scanned and it was time to pay. “I hope for his sake that time will do him well. I hope my services won’t be needed.”

Tara felt a chill run down her spine at the comment. She was suddenly reminded that Y/N, as sweet as she looked, could be intense. She guessed it made sense though. Y/N was casual about death as Tara was about surgical procedures.

Y/N sighed as she began to roll her cart away from the register. “I’ll see you around Tara.”

Y/N didn’t wait for a reply, her mind feeling thick and exhaustion peaking up in the deepest parts of her soul.

She just wanted to go home and take a long bath, maybe have some wine.

Little did she know though fate had a different plan.

============================

The Acura started sputtering not long after she left the grocery store. She groaned knowing that this wasn’t an entirely new development.

Given her debts, she had maybe put off car maintenance. She knew it was foolish. She saw the deadly results of poorly maintained vehicles thanks to her job.

It was easier to preach automotive safety when you weren’t broke though.

She grimaced as the car drug it was obvious it wouldn’t make the trip home, and even if it did it wouldn’t make any other trips.

She sighed knowing there was only one automotive shop close enough for her car to make it.

She cringed as she pulled the sputtering vehicle into the lot of TM Auto. She tried to ignore the fact that the automotive lot was located on the same lot as the Sons clubhouse.

It was a place she’d spent far too much time engaging in debauchery almost a decade before. She was too close for comfort to a piece of her past.

Chibs Telford noticed the familiar Acura drag its way into the lot. He moved a little too quickly to approach it.

He felt a giddy sense of excitement hit him at the realization that he’d be seeing Charming’s local funeral director quite soon.

He’d not forgotten his silent pledge to solve the puzzle that was Y/N. It was just that shit with the club had gotten so hectic that he’d not had the time to properly devote to his goals.

He’d debated using the number he’d saved in his flip phone to give her a call, but he’d feared how that interaction would go. Besides what would he say?

He’d been debating his next move while trying to keep his mind focused on the rebuild of the warehouse, issues with the supply of guns from the IRA, and other numerous issues that had landed on SAMCRO’s feet.

He’d be lying if he tried to pretend that she hadn’t been on the back of his mind constantly for almost a month now. He’d even maybe picked up the habit of reading the obituaries in the local paper that was always delivered to TM Auto trying to pretend that he wasn’t searching for the name of her business. 

He felt like a man obsessed and knew this action was a sign of his infatuation. He didn’t want to get shit from his brothers about the fact that he’d taken such a liking to their new funeral home connection. 

It seemed that fate was throwing him a bone by placing the very woman he’d been thinking about right on his path.

He approached her car, opening the driver's side door, he hoping he sounded as charming as he was attempting to. “Lass, long time no see.”

She peered at him through a pair of oversized sun shades almost tempted to point out that he and his brothers had left her high and dry to deal with their little grave robbing antics.

She held it in though reminding herself she needed these idiots to fix her clearly dying car. “I’m having car trouble.”

She tried not to eye the name embroidered into the work shirt he was wearing: Chibs. So, she guessed not everyone called him Filip. 

“Aye, when’s the las’ time ya took it in?” He asked not shying away from jumping into assisting her.

She shrugged her shoulders making a small joke, finding it easier to use humor to deflect how unhappy she was to be back in her old stomping grounds. “You’re supposed to maintain it? I’ve just been putting a post it over the pretty lights on my dash. I find them distracting.”

He rolled his eyes not showing that he found the snark kind of endearing. “I’m guessin’ it’s been a while then.”

She shrugged a sigh leaving her. “The oil has been leaking, but I’ve not had the time to do anything about it.”

She left out the last part of her statement or the funds.

“Aye could be yer head gasket that’s causin’ the oil leaks. The sputterin could be anything from the exhaust system to the spark plugs.” Chibs replied not missing the grimace on her features.

She ran a hand through her hair, a sigh leaving her. All she heard was bills bills bills, more debt to throw into the pot.

He spoke nodding his head. “It’s nothin’ I can’t fix though…might be costly and take some time.”

She cringed, rolling her eyes speaking more to herself than to him. “Great another bill…At least I have the old hearse to get around town. It’s retired from using in the business but my father couldn’t part from it. I guess his packrat tendencies for funeral equipment saved me at least transportation wise.”

“Aye, good thing we gave ya that payout though…should help with the bill.” Chibs remarked not missing the comment about the hearse or her father’s habit of hoarding funeral equipment the information both fascinating and a little worrisome.

She let out a scoff, turning her gaze towards him for only a moment before she stared down at her nails. “I had to invest every last penny of those lovely payouts in my debts. I can probably manage a bill from my legit earnings from work, but if it gets too expensive I might be fucked.”

She sighed not liking the slight hint of pity in his gaze. She spoke once again partially talking to herself working her anxieties out outloud. “I may have to let the stupid car go. I mean people around town already treat me like a pariah…in the most polite, condescending way possible…I may as well just drive a damn hearse in my day to day life. I might as well become a walking talking stereotype of a mortician. Who knows how long the old hearse will last though. I might wind up back here with another ruined car.” 

Chibs spoke the words leaving him before he had a chance to stop them. “As far as payment goes…I’m sure we could figure out an arrangement fer a lower bill.”

She frowned another scoff leaving her as she spoke her voice low though she knew the few people within their earshot weren’t paying them any mind. “I’m assuming by arrangement, you mean the next favor I do is on the house.”

Chibs cringed admitting the idea had crossed his mind. He was sure Clay would be delighted to have Y/N owing a favor on the house. Clay would be proud if Chibs came up with a way to get a favor from SAMCRO’s newest asset in exchange for car repairs. 

Chibs hated the concept though, it seemed kind of like a dick move. Chibs was no stranger to dick moves, but he wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of using Y/N’s car as a way to coax her into doing another favor for free.

He spoke, pulling a cigarette from the pocket of his work shirt, a sudden idea entering his mind. He had to hope she wouldn’t slap him for presenting it. “Ya could have a date with me. Tha’ coul’ be the arrangement.” 

She glared up at him, interpreting the offer completely the wrong way. Her voice rose as she began to chastise him. “I don’t know what Jackson or any of your buddies told you about me, but I am not a club whore, buddy. I am not the kind of girl who spreads her legs in the clubhouse dorm. Fuck you, if you even think I’m sleeping with you in exchange for car work. You can shove that arrangement right up your Scottish ass.”

He stepped back having to admit he was equally mortified, amused, and even a little turned on by her reaction. 

He held his hands up in defeat as he cleared up his statement. “I don’ mean a date like that lass. I mean…I wouldn’t turn ya down fer the offer ta sleep with me…I aint askin fer ya in my bed in exchange for autowork though. I may be a prick, but I ain’ that big of a prick.”

He paused, relieved to see that her claws seemed to be retracting. He spoke nodding over at the car. “I’m jus askin fer a chance to take a pretty lass out fer dinner and me fixin her car is jus a bonus.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Doesn’t make me feel any less like I’m prostituting myself for car repairs.”

He spoke, shaking his head, his hand daring to reach out and caress her arm relieved that she didn’t yank from his touch. “Ya ain’ if it makes ya feel better ya can pay a reduced bill, if it bein' free makes ya feel like shite then I’ll take payment as well as a date.”

She sighed, tempted to once again tell him to shove it up his Scottish ass though a voice in the back of her head perked up that it was a nice backside. 

She ignored the warning bells and harsh voice in the back of her mind telling her this was a bad idea. She ignored the voice that told her a date with Chibs would mean she was right back to being the club hangaround.

She stared up at him trying to read if he was absolutely full of shit or not. She had a feeling he was, but not in this instance at least. 

What could one date hurt? 

“Fine, it's a date. You call me with the plans. You can reach me at my business number.”

He smirked quick to speak. “I already got yer personal cell number love, ya do member our talk awhile back.” 

She rolled her eyes wanting to snap that of course she remembered. She was tempted to scold him for saving her number behind her back. She wanted to scold him for a lot of things, some things that weren’t technically even his fault.

She resisted the urge, resigning herself to her fate. The sooner she agreed to this hairbrained date idea the sooner she could go home and take that bath she wanted. “Okay, now can I get someone to give me a ride home…preferably someone with a car…I have groceries in the back of mine that are spoiling as I stand here listening to your nonsense.”

He smirked having to like that she once again had to find a way to give him grief. He found it less annoying and more delightful. It had been a long time since a woman had given him so much crap and he’d genuinely found it appealing.

“Aye, Gemma’ll give ya a ride. Jus’ head into the office let er know yer here with a wrecked car and ya need a ride.” He replied,  a joyful feeling settling over him. He had a date with Charming’s resident funeral director.

She cringed at the order not looking forward to coming face to face with the Queen of SAMCRO.

She grabbed her purse from her car refusing to glance back at Chibs even as he spoke that flirty tone clear in his voice. “I’ll call ya tonigh’ with those dinner plans lass.”

She let out a huff wondering how she got herself into these messes lately. Why did SAMCRO insist on making her life more complicated than it needed to be? 

[double-0h-no]

Doctor's Note

Prompt fill for both 3000 words and medical staff. This is a… very different kind of thing. Not my usual perspective, not my usual style of writing, but hey, this here is to try new things, and I had fun writing this. I hope you enjoy :)

on ao3

What's it like being a Doctor for Medical at MI6? Well, it goes a bit like this…

Hi. You must be the new Doctor working here, right?

I'm Hermine Dalton, pleasure to meet you. I've been with Six for longer than I'd like to admit to, and I'll be showing you the ropes the next few days and weeks. So, if you've got any questions, fire away. Should I at any point not be around, the nurses know more about the way of things than I do. All right, let's not dawdle. And welcome to the team.

***

Right, so we have a couple of divisions that you're not really used to from a normal hospital, and obviously, we're completely lacking others. No paediatrics, no oncology, stuff like that. A lot more forensic medicine and maybe in ways you're not entirely used to. And we have an intersection with Q-branch, if you're interested in that, namely with R&D where we have some guys who work on toxins and antitoxins and some creative biological weapons. That sounds a lot more malicious than it is, the creative part is mostly about how to target it and prevent the agents from accidentally injecting themselves with it or something similar. Should you wind up there at some point I have one advice for you: Trust the Q-branchers there. If they say "we can't do it like that, the agents will totally do this and that with it", no matter how outlandish it sounds, trust them. They know what they're talking about. All safety regulations are written in blood, and all that.

***

So this is where you'll start out. I know it's not the most exciting, but it'll give you a bit of time and peace to ease into things. So, most of this is from some sort of ongoing investigation. We have a colour coding system for prioritising those things, there's a list on the server. Take your time familiarising yourself with everything, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it fast enough. Tomorrow you can join me for my round with the current patients.

***

Good morning, so glad you'll join me. So, we don't have a whole lot of patients at any time, usually not more than five who are supposed to stay here. When I left last night, we had six patients, let's see how it looks this morning.

Why? Oh, let's just say there is a certain type of patient who is less than inclined to stay put.

Stop them? Oh, no, love. We... it's a recent thing, admittedly, one I've managed to painstakingly build up. It's... Let me explain this to you over a cup of tea after. Let's see the patients first, yeah?

***

So, that's them. Only four patients left, admittedly, but I would have made that bet. Let me show you what we do now.

Of course we'll have a coffee over it. What else is there to do? And we'll take a look at this nice little document there. Okay, so the people who were here last night and aren't anymore, that's Agent Booth, and 004. So, Booth wasn't hurt too badly, he was supposed to stay because we suspected he might have a concussion. He has a wife here in Six, she works in accounting, and they have two kids. So him not being here just means that he wants home to go and see them, and I sent his wife an email when he was admitted. She knows about his medical status, I'm not worried about him, so we'll let it go. Prep the paperwork for him to sign as soon as he's back at work, backdating it all, so that the bureaucracy monster working on the fourth floor is fed and satisfied.

Now, 004, that's a different thing. She had a... Sorry. Sometimes the job still gets to me, too. But she had a... fucked up mission. I don't want her to be alone for even a second, and she's in no good condition healthwise, either. What I do now is, I pull up the Double Oh roster, and check where 003 and 007 are. Three is out in the field, so that road's blocked. Seven is in London. Great. Let me just text him real quick.

Okay. That's done. And now we can only hope and pray.

How I know what? Oh, the mission. Yeah, no, we're not supposed to - hm. Hm. See, that's... It's easier to do than you might think. And not all agents take it too seriously. I know you've only been here for two days, and you already picked up on the reputation of Double Ohs, but...

Yes, they are the worst patients you could wish for. Horrible. Rude. Don't keep to any of your orders. But... They're our patients. I care for them. And with most of them, I've managed to build a rapport. They trust me with details of their missions, so I happen to know more than I'm supposed to. Sometimes, you find out things because you treat them. You'll get practised at it eventually, recognise certain types of injuries, all that. And other times, you have to ask, because maybe they've ingested something, or you need to know what happened to be able to judge how deep the injuries might be, how likely a concussion is, questions are important.

What that third column is? It's their handlers. Let's go through the list real quick. You will not be needing it for a good long while. Treating Double Ohs takes a bit of time until you're at a point where you can make decisions for them without them raising hell on you. But I hope the insight will help you a bit. So the first two columns are the agents and their designations. The next two are their usual handlers. They might change in between missions, but those are the two they trust the most.

If an agent comes in and they are in a really bad shape, you contact their handler as soon as they're stable and look human again. Q-branch needs to know that their charge is home safe and sound. If an agent acts up while they have a bed here, just being a little bitch, pardon my French here, you can also call their handler, and they usually get the agents in line. Do it surreptitiously, though. The agents have not yet caught on to me strategically ordering Q up when I need to get them in line, and I'd rather keep it like that for as long as possible.

Next column is significant others or people that the agents themselves have cleared for me divulging medical information and all. It's empty for a lot of them, but that's usually not as much of an issue as it sounds.

Next columns are people to send after them if they pull a runner. That one I know by heart. The trick is finding out who's available. Scarlett's first contact is, and always will be, Tanner from admin upstairs. Don't know why, I don't ask, don't care. But Tanner's busy, and I have the feeling that she would appreciate someone who knows what it's like to come back from... that. So one of the other Double Oh, then you pull up the roster, check whether they're in, and Bob's your uncle.

Okay, I know that was a lot, but you're a quick study. I know you've heard all the horror stories about our most notorious patients but... Well, I'm sure you'll figure them out. Just don't -- Don't listen too much to others.

***

Oi, come over here, I need another pair of hands! Don't just stand there, it's only blood and there will be more if you don't put your hands right here!

Thank you! Fuck! Fuck!

007, get out of the way now, you did your part, we'll take over from here. We've got her, she's safe.

***

Fuck, I need more coffee. Thanks for that. Sorry for just jumping that on you and barking orders but -- Oh. Yeah, thanks. That doesn't usually happen, mind. By the time we take care of the patients, they're usually not in any immediate danger anymore. We do surgeries, but they're stable, not bleeding out anymore. At least when they get a medevac. 007 has a horrible track record of dragging his sorry arse all the way to London by himself, no matter his physical state. But still... This is not a regular occurrence. Hold on --

Bill? Yeah, she's in room two. She's not awake yet but I don't think she should be alone. Yeah, I sent James after -- Oh hush, you know better than that. She badly pulled those stitches of hers and -- Yeah, I think so. I mean she had wet hair and was scarcely dressed, so... Go see her. Can she stay with you, if she doesn't want to hang around? I'll make sure no one's watching. Thanks.

***

Now, how was your first week? Eventful enough? Exactly what you expected from working at Six?

Yeah I bet. Hope we haven't scared you off. Have a nice weekend, and see you on Monday.

***

Oh, hello. Had a nice weekend? What can I help you with?

What was that? Oh, yes, that's... Yes. I see. Of course. Let's... I'll be right with you. What did you say that they did in Q-branch that caused this?

Right. Of course. Just a regular Monday morning, right?

***

I'd like you to assist me this afternoon, if you don't mind. We've got 007 coming in from his latest mission and he's being transported back in with a medevac. It's not too bad, nothing you haven't seen before in clinic.

***

So, how was that for your first foray into Double Oh field medicine?

Oh no, I dare say he was perfectly pleasant, actually. Oh you sweet summer child. No. That was him being kind.

All right, now, what do you know about the mission?

No no, not the things that Bond told us, however begrudgingly. The rest.

Like what? The wound on his shoulder, for example.

Oh no, that's... older. That shoulder is just banged up. If you want a case study in "how is that human body still moving?", I recommend the files of 004, 007, and the previous 006. He retired, so he, too, is still moving around, just not in active service anymore. No, what I mean is the cuts that we tended to. What happened there?

It's all right, there's no shame in not knowing. I've spent years here learning to read between the lines, and you can do your job without ever questioning the pattern of injuries. Now, what I gather from those wounds is an explosion. The way those scratches were scattered, the kind of shrapnel we got out of the wounds, it all looks like an explosion inside of a building.

Then there's the bruising. It's on the opposite side, so that suggests - exactly, the blast probably flung him into a wall. There were marks on his thighs and arms that suggest close combat. The marks on his neck were the thing prompting me to ask whether wants to get tested.

Why I offer? Most agents are really conscientious about that part. Not 001, but then, I never have to treat him, either. He's sexist like that.

Thanks for your help, by the way. Don't count on Bond hanging around for the night, though. He's mobile enough, he might make a run for it.

***

Oh, hi. Sure I have a moment, what's up?

Whether what--? Oh. Oh!

Right. Sometimes I forget you've not been here for ages with how well you've managed to settle in. No, no, take the compliment.

So Q snuck up here with dinner for Bond yesterday evening? That's kind of him.

Did he? Well, usually I'd say, do with that what you will, but remember one thing, in this very specific case: There is such a thing as plausible deniability. Should two people who work together as closely as an agent and their handler be in a relationship, that might end their working relationship here. There are precautions to be met and everything. Unless that's inconvenient, because they clearly work well together and who would disrupt that. So sometimes, there's nothing where there's something, and everybody knows unless someone comes asking, you see?

Yes, they are. It was the most exciting thing I've seen happen here. They're actually good for each other, if you can believe it. A lid for every pot, as my gran used to say.

004 and Tanner? Oh Lord, no. She's the godmother to his daughters, though. I think they served together. Oh, yes, Tanner's a military man. Doesn't look like it, does he? No, from what I know, they were in some deep shit together and have been inseparable ever since.

Other gossip? I mean, someone probably warned you about the Double Ohs being prone to sexual advances, especially if they think they can wheedle some special treatment out of you. Everything else, I won't tell. I'm sure you've caught plenty on your own.

Now tell me, how's your first month been? Ready to take on your own patients?

***

Hey, could you fetch me a rape kit real quick? I don't want to leave her alone.

She's an agent, she says she's fine, all part of the job, but... She's only human, too, you know?

Thank you.

***

My goodness, I've got to tell you what just happened. So, you know how Nomi's currently here? Well, she just woke up, incredibly high on pain meds, and I went through the usual questions, who are you, do you know where you are, what day is it, and she answered it in absolute Double Oh fashion, and then we got to the current events question and i asked her who the current prime minister is, and she just groaned and mumbled "Don't make me say it'' and I think that counts, too, doesn't it?

Anyway, Miss Moneypenny showed up shortly after, awfully chipper for a Friday afternoon, and spent over an hour in there for the debrief. A bit long for a person who can't string two coherent thoughts together, don't you think?

***

Hey, can you take over Trevelyan's check up for me? My sister's in town and I'd love to meet up with her if you -- Oh thank you so much, you're a lifesaver.

Have you ever had the pleasure? No? Oh, well, it's rather easy, though he might try to get under your skin. Don't let him, he's all bark and no bite. Terry will be here, too -- yeah, PT, that's him, and Camilla from Q-branch -- I know, I know it sounds like a big thing, but it really isn't. Just routine check up, we just all pool together because it's more convenient. Trevelyan is Q-branch's test bunny for their new prosthesis that they're trying to link to his neural pathways and muscle impulses to use a robotic prosthetic that can react to those impulses. Mostly it's Camilla and Trevelyan talking and you and Terry looking pretty until your expertise is called upon.

Yeah, they're actually on to something there. Last time Alec started asking whether they could weaponise the thing, and I'm living in fear ever since.

Oh, right, that was before you. Trevelyan was 006, not too long ago, and he has a propensity for arson and explosions.

Still has, I meant what I said. He occasionally helps out in Q-branch. Those are usually the days when the fire alert goes off somewhere in the building.

I have a note with my standard questions and procedures for this meeting so I don't forget anything, I'll forward that to you. Alec will answer the questions before you can ask them, he knows them by heart.

Thank you so much, I owe you one. No, really. If I can jump in for you at some point, please let me know. All right. Thanks. See you!

***

Yeah, I heard. How... Well, stupid question, but how bad is it?

It's crazy, isn't it? When it's agents, that's no big deal, but Q? I ran into James -- Yeah, probably why he didn't kick up a fuss. You're welcome, but it really only was a coincidence. That man looked murderous, and I would know.

Yeah, he's in there with Q now. And I don't think he'll leave his side. I think M officially assigned him as Q's security detail now. We'll have to take care of the visitors. Not too many and all that. Not a problem we usually seem to have, but there's a first time for everything, huh?

Anything broken?

Cracked ribs are a bitch. I bet he's glad it's not his fingers. God, that's morbid. Okay, I gotta get going. I've got a meeting with the Head of Department.

Don't call him that! You're insulting those old and cranky dragons with that comparison.

Yeah, I also shudder to think what this is about. I'll let you know as soon as I'm done. Take care of the head boffin for me, will you?

***

I know, I can't believe it either! Head of Medical! Look at me, having even less time for my patients from here on out.

No, it's... Wow. Still can't believe it. Then you've got a new old and cranky dragon to complain about.

Thank you so much.

Hey, what would you say to a promotion?

***

I can't anymore. Just shoot me, please. Or let me take a good, deep breath from one of the funny gases we have around. Chloroform, nitrous oxide, I'm not picky.

I mean, I knew that the budget meeting had the potential to be my Waterloo, but this... It's so disgusting to argue for a budget that's supposed to keep people alive. No, we can't cut back on our expenses for the blood bank, we actually need that considering the state of our agents. Goodness.

***

Come on, hon. Go home. You did what you could, and nobody will feel better if you run yourself ragged. You did well. Good night.

[intersex-animal]

I worked as a nurse for over a decade—but it was only about two years ago that I fully understood the meaning of the word “intersex.”  I was working at a sexual health clinic that specializes in LGBTQI+ care when I had an opportunity to hear Alicia Roth-Weigel speak about intersex rights.

At that point, I had been a practicing Registered Nurse for 13 years. I couldn’t understand how this term, intersex, hadn’t been brought to my attention before now. I had taken advanced courses of Anatomy and Physiology in high school and college; I have a Bachelor’s of Science in Nursing from a highly esteemed university’s nursing school. I’d taken care of adults in hospitals for ten years and in primary care clinics for years after that. I personally identify with the LGBTQI+ community! Why didn’t I know this – the meaning of the “I”?

The real meaning of the “I”

Intersex is an umbrella term for a host of variances in the sex characteristics that people can be born with, existing between society’s binary of “male” or “female”. While every intersex body is unique, there are over 40 diagnostic terms that are used to classify the variances that can be observed in a person’s chromosomes, hormones, external genitals, or internal organs.

Unfortunately for me, we didn’t cover any of this nuance in nursing school. If I had seen the words “Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome” listed in a patient’s medical history during those first ten years of my career, I might have quickly looked up the scientific definition without understanding the deeper meaning of it in regards to the person’s holistic picture. I now understand that some people are born with bodies that look differently because they have an immunity to androgens, including their own hormones, like testosterone. 

More so than any clinical terminology, I wish I had understood that people born with intersex variations may have faced specific kinds of trauma simply because of being born intersex. They can face higher rates of of sexual abuse and abusive behaviors from an intimate partner.

I worked for a year as a Forensic Nurse in a clinic that specializes in providing care to survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault. I recall seeing the word “intersex” as a gender option for patients to select on their intake form, but since I lacked awareness of what intersex actually means, I potentially missed out on major context to my patient’s bigger picture. I was there specifically to serve survivors of abuse and I might have missed flags for opportunities to offer additional support, education, or referrals to resources.

Our intersex patients face medical harm

I have also come to understand how the Medical Establishment, a community I proudly belong to, has been one main perpetrator of violence, shame, and trauma inflicted upon the intersex population. I wanted to think I wasn’t part of the problem because I’d never worked with anyone with an intersex variation before. But we’ve all heard the statistic about the rate of people born with intersex variance being about the same as people born with red hair. And I know I’ve taken care of plenty of redheads in my time. I’ve cared for intersex patients and had never known it. 

We weren’t taught in nursing school that the world of medicine can actually be a trauma machine that violates many people. Some people born with intersex variations don’t even know a life before experiencing medical trauma, because it starts the moment they’re out of the womb. Others experience it later in their childhood or pubescent years, but regardless of their age, medical trauma is a common thread in the fabric that connects so many intersex stories.

They are too often stories of being shamed, lied to, kept in secrecy about their own bodies, or treated like a test subject by a medical professional who is supposed to care for them and protect them. Realizing that I was part of the community responsible for so much pain and suffering was a really hard pill to swallow. 

Intersex people aren’t finding affirming healthcare

In my nursing style, I pride myself on being a trauma-informed, empathetic, and safe provider for any person I care for. I prioritize healthcare equity, patient education and autonomy, and try to provide every one of my patients with access to all the information they need to make the best decision for themselves.

When I realized that intersex people are often born without control over what happens to their own bodies, it made me sick. I had no idea that there are barbaric surgical procedures still being performed on infants and children who cannot consent. Children born intersex may be told there is something wrong with their body that needs to be “managed” or “fixed” with medicine or surgery. I learned that intersex people can experience intense feelings of isolation and loneliness and lack the social support that we all need to thrive.

There are also gaping holes in the options for health care of intersex adults. As Alicia Roth Weigel reports, some intersex adults travel around the globe to find competent medical providers. Or, maybe more alarming, they are burdened with the task of educating their provider about the medical care they need. If I had known about intersex variations prior to becoming a practicing nurse, what differences could I have possibly made? Maybe just by being a supportive and affirming provider, knowledgeable enough to advocate for people whose bodies look or operate differently; to remind them that they are healthy and perfect as they are and don’t need to be “fixed”.

Nurses can be part of the change

In the time since my eyes were opened to the intersex community, I have tried to do my part in joining the fight for their rights and increasing visibility and representation. I updated the language used on educational documents in my clinic so that they were more inclusive of the natural variances found among human bodies.

I’ve also focused on educating myself and exposing myself to intersex voices: I’ve read memoirs of some prominent intersex activists, attended the premiere of an intersex documentary, listened to podcasts, and attended talks to increase my exposure and alignment with the community. It’s important to me that their voices and stories are heard, and I want to be an audience and an amplifier for them. The more that nurses understand what it means to be an intersex person, the better job we can do in advocating for their rights and providing the best healthcare possible for every single patient we serve.

Nurses and other healthcare professionals can help foster a better relationship between the healthcare system and the intersex community by being more informed to the unique needs of intersex people. We should strive to protect their autonomy, safety, and comfort as we would with any patient in our care. While I do still find myself wondering about “what if” scenarios and what differences I could have made in the past had I been more educated, I do find motivation in how I can be a better ally for the intersex community going forward.

I’ve encountered many nurses just like myself who did not understand the complexity associated with the word intersex. In sharing my experience with other medical professionals, I hope to educate my peers and increase the visibility of intersex people from inside the industry. My hope in doing so is that all nurses will one day be better equipped to care for and advocate for patients with intersex identities.

[gorlygorlx3]

Latest & Greatest Chapter 6: Bandages for Boo-Boos

After a well-rested sleep, you wake with a grin on your face. You take a shower and get dressed. You promised yourself today you were going to visit the Celestials in the hospital as well as check on the survivor. You check your phone. 7:00 AM. Good. You grab your coat and head for the door. You look out to see the soldier S.T.A.F.F. bots carry more of those crates down to the storage room from a pile. You wonder where the crates are coming from, let alone what's inside. They carry them effortlessly, then again, these things can carry from 300 to 500 pounds. Your curiosity got the best of you as you took a peek under the cloth. The wooden crate had a red logo: "Please refrain from touching necessary equipment." A S.T.A.F.F. bot shooed you away from the pile. That's weird. It acted as if there was something fragile and pricy that the slightest touch could destroy it. Like you said, it's probably just ammo and the bots were programmed to prevent anyone from stealing. You continued down to the elevator and pressed the button up to the 1st floor. 

DING! The doors open to the futuristic city of the plex. Citizens mingle with each other like it's any other day in life. You remember the times when you talked with Sylvester back in high school. How he would ask you about the homework from last week since the military programs he's in keep him left behind in school, meaning you have to take the fall for him. You didn't mind of course, though you hated explaining to the teachers that he was not cheating off of you. You're surprised all those B-'s in school didn't stop him from joining the military. Though Sylvester is one of the most headstrong and determined people you have met in your life. When there was a will, there was a way for him. You just didn't think the way was him leading armies of androids to battle against an alien invasion. You arrived at the Matthew Patrick Emergency Clinic. The biggest hospital in the plex supposedly named after a great detective and forensics specialist. Pass the sliding doors reveal doctors and nurses around with patients walking, in wheelchairs, or emergency beds. You walk to the front desk and greet the Asian woman and the S.T.A.F.F. bot in teal scrub uniforms.

"How may we help you, commander?" The woman asked you. 

"I'm looking to see the latest survivor that came here." You responded. 

"There were 27 survivors rescued from the surface." The bot calculated. (Looks like you have some competition) 

"Then can I find where the Celestials are?" You asked again. 

"They are currently in room 4-013."

"Visitor elevators are on your left." The woman pointed to three elevators.

"Thank you." You nodded and headed to the middle elevator. You waited until it arrived with two doctors joining you. They greet you respectively before looking annoyed. "Those dumb bots think they're always right and know the proper treatments for patients." 

"Yeah, they treat us like scrubs." (Ay scrubs are just as important as the doctors themselves thank you 😠)

"Did the researchers have to make them so nitpicky?"

"They look eager to steal our jobs." 

You wonder who they were talking about. They weren't talking about Sun and Moon, right? No, they can't be. Sun's a sweetheart. Moon looks a little intimidating, but you're sure he's chill. Probably just complaining about the S.T.A.F.F. bots being annoying again.  (Imagine those things as doctors. TAKE YOUR PRESCRIPTION TAKE YOUR PRESCRIPTION oml) The elevator opens on the third floor as the doctors leave talking about some hot chicks they met somewhere (my god 🙄) It felt like the stuffiness of the air was cleared and you could breathe again. The elevator closed again and moved up to the fourth floor. You hoped that the survivor's scars were healed and was feeling better than before. 

The elevator opened to see a white hallway with blinding lights. The doors and windows were lined with a light purple. Signs with the respective numbers of each room hung above the doors. You looked at each of them. "4 11, 4 12, 4 13." You stop in front of the room's window seeing Moon wipe a cotton ball on the survivor in the hospital while Sun was talking to them. Speaking of them, their face looked clearer than it was when you found them. The same tan skin and brown eyes, only their hair was down. Brown hair that was short and a little frizzy. (Hasn't been washed in months) You knocked on the door. Sun opened the door. "I'm sorry but visitors aren't allo-" He stopped his sentence when he saw it was you. *Gasp* "Sunshine! I-I mean commander (Y/N), what are you doing here? Wait don't tell me. You wanted to see how's our patient?" He dragged you in to see the survivor. "I'd said she looks healthier than before," Sun said proudly.

My throat feels better after all that medicine you shove down it. It did the work all right. The survivor's voice sounds much clearer. 

"You're welcome." Moon threw the cotton ball in the trash bin next to him.

"Glad you're still standing after everything." You smiled at the survivor. "And that goes to you two as well." You look to Sun. He giggled sweetly. "Aw sunshi-commander. You're too sweet." Moon rolls his eyes. "Now, haven't you found a home for me yet?" The survivor raised a brow. You completely forgot about that.

"I bet the commander found you the perfect place." Sun grinned.

"Uh yeah yeah I did..." You fiddle with your coat sleeve. 

"Hope it's not cramped and dirty like most people say they are." The survivor snides. 

While you have never actually seen what the housing looks like for citizens, you hope that's not the case. Sure, you've heard about how the rich live in these penthouses on the second floor as well as luxury hotels that cost a lot of money, but being forced into a small, old apartment building sounds horrible. (Especially if you're paying $1,000 in rent) You didn't want to tell her that you hadn't figured out the housing yet, but you didn't want to lie to her after going through all that surviving on the surface. "I'll show you the place once you're out of the hospital." You look to Sun asking about when the estimated time would be.

"Well since your temperature decreased by 2 degrees, it's normal again. But the stitches still need to heal so I'd said the next 3 hours would do the trick." Sun smiled.

Moon looked at the clock. "It's 9:00 Sun. Let's give our patient some breakfast." 

"Oh goodie! Do you want some commander? Sun asked you.

"Uh, sure."

"Okie dokie! We'll be right back. You can get comfy on the chair over there." He pointed to the burgundy wool chair near the window before shutting the door, leaving you with the survivor. Silence fills the room before the survivor scoffs. "I can't people actually trust these...things." You looked at her with a curious expression.

"What do you mean?"

"People are willing to let robots do their work for them. Nursing our people, protecting our homes, teaching our children. And people like you're just letting this happen." 

"The androids help as extra hands. There's only so much humans can do nowadays." You make your point. "The amount of people who lost their jobs on the surface, hell, the amount of people who died. All of those parents, their children being left alone. And there are very few teachers. That's why Sun and Moon were created, to care for all the orphans." 

"But isn't there already a lot of doctors? Why do I need robots giving me my prescription if a pharmacist can do the same thing?"

"The amount of people who were injured by the invasion was, and still is, high. That's why there are so many hospitals built. And I heard that med school takes a while, so we need doctors on hand now."

"Alright alright, but what about those freaky bots on wheels, what's their purpose? Just look like cannon fodder to me."

"Our army of androids help defend against the raptures so we can claim the surface again. The military isn't built for those things."

"Then why not upgrade your tanks, or weapons or stuff like that?"

"We are!" You apologize for shouting. "But I heard that androids like my squad are the greatest piece of technology ever created. There's a significant decrease in casualties and rapture population recorded from the past 7 months. Androids can be the way to save society."

The survivor doesn't respond. She just stares into space.    

"Are you really that against them?" You asked.

The survivor doesn't speak until "Do you really think you can reclaim the surface...?" She asked. And to be honest, you...weren't exactly sure. All the evidence you used to back up your claim was from catching up with the news about the surface and the androids from the moment you came to the plex. Your fascination with technology over the years led you to learn about almost everything from what the research team announced. You kept track of all the news (for the first time in your life) But to reclaim the surface, that's a feat you weren't sure of. However... 

"I think we can. I believe in the androids."

You have this unshakeable hope that tells you they can.

Silence befalls again. 

"Lorelei."

"Pardon?"

"My name's Lorelei." She smiles. "But tell that to those guys and I'll beat the shit outta you."

"Alright. Nice to me you Lorelei." You smiled. 

"We're back~! Sorry for the wait." The doors open suddenly to see Sun and Moon with trays of food. A plain omelet, three crispy hash browns, a blueberry muffin, a little bowl of cut-up strawberries, blueberries, grapes, orange slices, a glass of orange juice, and a carton of 2% milk on the light green trays. "Here you go sunbeam!" Sun places the tray in front of Lorelei while Moon hands you yours. "Thanks." You smiled. Moon grunts and hands you a plastic fork and knife. As you ate a piece of the omelet, you could see Sun trying to feed Lorelei a cut-up piece of hash brown to her. "I can feed myself, you know." You chuckled at that site. Eating your food, you can see in the corner of your eye Moon watching you. You shuddered a little, his eyes stared into you. You just thought he was observing (like an introvert) but it felt cold.

"It's nice for you to visit us here at the hospital, commander." Sun beams. (haha get it?) "Rarely anyone comes to see us." He said that all to cheerfully. 

"What, why not?" You asked.

"No cares about us." Moon growls.

"No, if that was the case, commander wouldn't be here!" Sun looked at you. "Right?"

"Of course. I care about both of you." 

Moon scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Still, it's really nice for you to visit us. It gets a little lonely when it's just us and the patients. The doctors here aren't the friendliest." That made you remember what those doctors said in the elevator—calling them nitpicky and wanting to steal their jobs. You knew that's not the case, they're just doing what they're programmed to do. You didn't want to mention what they said to Sun and Moon not wanting to ruin the mood so you decided to change the subject. "I also wanted to congratulate you two on your first mission."

"Oh sun-commander, we should be congratulating you! It was your first mission after all." Sun chuckled.

"No way, this was your first mission as well."

"We were just doing what we're programmed for." Moon comments.

"Still, I'm proud of you. Especially you Sun." You smiled at him.

"Me?" Sun points to himself.

"Yeah, you. You were so brave during the operation. You went out of your way to save someone's life." 

"I did. I did didn't I?" His eyes widen. *Gasp* "I'M A LIFESAVER!" 

"As if I was dying," Lorelei remarked.

"You could of if it wasn't for that garbage stitching barely holding you up." Moon snides.

You chuckled at the sight of Sun's realization and the quips exchanged by Moon and Lorelei. "So are you two twins?" You asked Sun, wanting to get to know them better. "Oh yes! Yes, we are. At least that's what the researchers said. We were both created at the same time so I guess we're considered brothers." Well that makes sense. "I couldn't ask for a better brother than Moonie." He gives Moon a big hug. 

"Sun that's not what-"

"Do you have any siblings commander?" Sun's question cut off Moon's response.

"Actually I do." You told them. (Sorry only children) "A brother," You smiled. "Really?! *Gasp* "We have to see him sometime. We could have a sibling bonding day!" Sun stims a little while Moon just looks away. You wouldn't mind hanging out with the twins besides work. And besides, it's been a while since you and your brother talked. "Is he as bright and cheerful as him?" Moon points to Sun. "Well he's calmer and more analytical than me but he can be the funniest sometimes." You reminisce about the times you spent with your brother before the invasion. From him helping with your homework to getting into fights to just plain old having fun. You were separated before the invasion occurred since he was in college. After that, you called him on the phone, worrying if he was ok. But the cell service wasn't working by that time. The only way you found out he was alive was by getting your ID badge on the first floor. You bumped into him while waiting in line. You did miss him.

"He's a researcher here." You smiled.

"Gosh, he must be pretty busy." Sun puts a hand under his chin sympathetically.

"Rarely see him." You sigh. "But I guess he could say the same about me being a commander." 

"Yeah. You must have a lot of work to do in that little office of yours." Moon said sarcastically. 

"Hey! You can only imagine how many reports I file a day?" You argued. Even though they get all a little repetitive and you miss most of the due dates due to procrastination.

"And you can only imagine how many patients we see in a day. Guess we're not so different." Moon smirked.

"Hey! That's not true Moonie!" Sun intervenes. "Commanders are just as important as doctors here in the plex." He nods his head.

 "Really? Are you sure?" Moon looks daggers at you. Ok. You really don't know why he's giving you these dirty looks. The entire time you've been nice to them from the operation to today, giving your time to visit them in the hospital. Could it be that he doesn't trust your skills because you're a novice? No this doesn't feel like that. This feels like hatred. Well, at least Sun likes you. You look at the time. 12:30 PM. Boy did time fly. You wanted to get back to your room to submit more reports before you get in trouble. "As much as I want to stay here I have to get going." You head for the door.

"Aw. Leaving already? You just got here." Sun pouts.

"Sorry Sunny. Thanks for the breakfast though."

"Our pleasure commander." He smiles. "I'll put that in the cafeteria." He takes the tray from you.

"And Sunny."

"Yes?"

"You can call me 'sunshine'. I don't mind." Sun smiles widely. You can tell he wasn't comfortable talking to you formally. You bet that everyone tells him to talk properly when authority. It must have been hard for him to contain himself. You say your goodbyes as you leave the room. You head to the elevator.

The elevator brings you down to the first floor. You wave goodbye to the receptionist and the bot and out the door. While you walk around the plex, your phone vibrates. You turn on your phone to see a message from Vanessa.

Vanessa: Come to the observation tower. Immediately.

You wonder what she needs you urgently. And when was there an observation tower?!

[buttacake80]

Let's talk about my brain-injury.

First, I make a distinction between having a TBI and a brain-injury.

Years ago, I was serving as a discharge social worker in an inpatient and forensic hospital. This is a state run institution; this is the place where pedophiles, rapists, arsonists, etc go for treatment.

By the time I worked with them, they had completed several years of treatment, but still had the occasional violent episode committed against staff.

There were 3 of us being the nursing station. This hospital is old and does not have glass protecting nursing stations on every ward.

The other two staff walked out of the opposite doors unaware that the other had left me alone with a room full of patients.

One patient had been in and out if restraints for days due to assaulting staff.

When my co-workers stepped out, one left a door open, and that patient saw I was alone, so they took their chance to escape the ward.

There was one nurse that patient enjoyed targeting, and I knew she was on the other side of the door.

So, I slipped over to close the door, but that put me between the closed door and a violently agree patient. Of course, I became the target.

They punched me in the face before I crouched down to shield my torso and head. They still continued to ran blows on my head. I clicked my safety button, triggering a campus wide code gray.

Staff couldn't get through the door because that was where I was cornered. So they had to run through the ward to the other door or hop over the nursing station to pull them off me.

I was driven to the ER. Had a head scan. Found my septum needed repair.

I went home thinking it was rather minor.

When I returned to work, that patient sought me out immediately to hug me. They had been concerned about me. Despite this incident, this patient and I usually had a good rapport; in fact, other staff would sometimes call me to help de-escalate because I could make the patient laugh.

The patient who assaulted me cared more for my recovery than my co-workers. I worked with A LOT of outwardly racist people. I had been reporting them for years but we are all union, so not much was done except the occasional meeting to address their racism.

The gal I shared an office with was particularly bad. She referred to Black hair as "birds nest", called the lone Black male patient a "thug" who shouldn't be released, and she reported me because I did not smile at her when she said good morning.

The nurse supervisor enjoyed using "nigger" every chance she got. During a meeting, I had my head down, reading notes, when she ran her fingers through my hair. "It's so soft."

After my assault, during a team meeting, one of them laughed at me and said, "at least they haven't hit me". It was very common to laugh at each other's injury.

I am scheduling a surgery to repair my nose. And I am treatment for PTSD. I am fighting my employer, the state, for workers compensation.

One day, I had a disagreement with a co-worker who had been monitoring my sick days. I told them that matter was between me and my supervisor.

As I walked from the building, I experienced a brain knot. I could feel something changed in my brain. Naturally, I thought to sleep it off.

Next day, I was in the ER having uncontrollable non-epileptic seizures.

They did tests to see if it was stroke, but I couldn't hold still long enough for a good image. The neurologist on call didn't think it was stroke, though.

I was referred to a neurologist at the Brain Institute. After months of waiting to be seen, I was diagnosed with Functional Neurological Disorder. A neurological condition that affects the functions of the brain such as speech, gait, and coordination.

Something interesting to nite about FND. It usually happens to other survivors of childhood trauma. I think we supress our trauma until one day our body forces us to address it.

I could not walk or talk properly. When I ventured into Publix and started to seize, folks would recoil in disgust. I was put on a 10 month waiting list for intensive rehab through the University of Washington.

I was trapped in my body. I would try to lift my arm, but my brain would misfire.

I couldn't wait the 10 months. I started rehabbing myself. Started by walking the neighborhood to improve my gait.

I fell a lot.

But my walking got better.

I could talk, but I could not walk & talk. My brain could not multitasking.

I learned to mask my symptoms in order to go out in public.

It was during these rare excursions that I had my first interaction with Benn.

By the time my rehab started, I had done a significant turn around. Instead of the 8-5, 12 week intensive rehab I had been referred to, they modified it to 8 weeks and just a few days a week.

The institute had not seen that before.

My psychologist believed it was due to my own work in the helping profession. I have done in-home care needs assessments for folks with neurological conditions before I developed my own! He encouraged me to share my story with others, so I could help them be resilient.

I had just graduated rehab when I messaged Benn. I wanted to help him build resiliency, and I did.

It became something more than a fan reaching out to their favorite player with empathy.

My brain-injury does not work like that other person's. My brain-injury affects the functional aspects of brain-body communication; it did not change my cognitive processes or temperament.

I am not creating patterns. I am not delusional or schizophrenic.

Y'all would have been better off arguing I was having a manic episode.

I chose to be vulnerable in sharing my brain-injury knowing it would be used against me.

Y'all may not like my communication style, but I am fucking coherent and I remain oriented to place & time.

[misty-lake101]

Live and Learn AU - Headcanons

Hey guys! I haven't updated Live and Learn for moment cause life has been so busy and now I have COVID which absolutely sucks! But I am trying to work on the next few chapters. I'm not sure how long it will be, but until then, I thought I'd give y'all some headcanons in the meantime! They mainly pertain to everyone's career choices and house habits so you'll get an idea of their dynamic.

Sonic - Major: Sports Communication

Sonic cannot cook. Period. All of his roommates agree that leaving him unsupervised in the kitchen is a fire hazard. He tends to order takeout more and microwaves leftovers. But as he got older and was forced to manage his money a little more, he did learn a few basic things at least. The fact that he’s on a meal plan with the college helps as there are some places that serve decent food. Given how athletic he is, It’s a wonder he’s managed to stay healthy this whole time.

He’s also a huge slob. His room is a disaster and he’s the type to just throw his clothes on the floor when he gets back, and then toss it in the laundry at the last minute. He's also that person who can easily find items in a messy room, but feels lost when the place is sparkling clean.

Sonic and Shadow were on rival sports teams in high school. They didn’t see each other for awhile after graduation, but then meet again when Shadow transfers to GMU and becomes their roommate.

Silver - Major: Pre-medicine

Grew up in foster care, and therefore not used to treating a place like his own home. He used to always have a mindset of ‘I'm in someone else’s house and have to follow their rules’. Moving in with Sonic changed that for the better, of course. But of all the inhabitants, he is the most flexible as far as habits go. Like Sonic, his own room can get pretty messy, but he's more conscious of others and therefore a little better at keeping common spaces clean.

He mostly relies on his college’s meal plan but over time, is trying to learn how to cook. He's pretty bad at it too, but it's more because no one taught him anything. Espio uses his restaurant job to his advantage to help him in this area.

His sleep cycle can be a mess since he works night shift for his job. Keeping days of the week and dates straight is often a challenge and he often has to be reminded that no, it's Saturday morning - not Friday night. His daily routine depends on his class/work schedule or what he feels like doing that day. Without that as some kind of structure, he can have almost no concept of time

Shadow - Forensics, but at some point, Undecided

Being in military school and having a strict guardian as well as a chronically ill and severely immunocompromised sister resulted in some extreme habits for Shadow.

He is the epitome of a neat freak. Every nook and corner of the house will be subject to a good vacuuming and mopping if he can help it. He’s an early riser and has a specific morning routine. Comically, these things end up being a source of conflict between him and Sonic when he first moves in.

Unlike Sonic and Silver, Shadow is very good at cooking and becomes the de-facto chef of the house. He's very adept at everything from basic to gourmet meals and knows how to tailor in dietary restrictions of all kinds. He also won't allow anyone but Amy to help him out in the kitchen.

Amy - Nursing, but is thinking of changing her career

At the start of the story, Amy's life was a bit of a mess before she moved in with Sonic and Silver. She lived with three girls in another house and they were generally pretty awful to her, as was her boyfriend. After thirteen months of that, she moved out early when the stress reached a boiling point.

Yet in terms of house habits, she (and to a certain extent, Silver too) is the obligatory "how am I the most normal one here???"

She generally gets along with everyone. Though she and Sonic dated briefly in school, there's no bad blood between them and they're good friends. She bonds very quickly with Silver since they're both in the medical field and can understand each other's struggles that are unique to that career. Silver also looks to her a lot for dating advice. Amy has a pretty civil relationship with Shadow and they gradually become very good friends as well.

Her house habits don't really have anything too extraordinary about them. She's pretty good with cleaning up after her self and is flexible with others. Amy's expectations aren't very high beyond, "please clean up after yourself" and "don't do the nasty in shared spaces and leave 'evidence' of it".

When Shadow first moved in, he and Sonic would bicker a lot. Amy did her best to stay out of it, but there were times she had to intervene. When this happened, she and Silver would take turns deciding who would be the one to break them up.

[crookedkingdomruinedme]

Please do not skip ‼️

I would like some advice please.

I don't have many aspirations but Ive just finished highschool. I think I would like to take up forensic science as a major and literature as well. What I want to be in my dreams is a literature professor, but for practicality, I think I'll choose a forensic job.

I don't know how I can do it. I don't come from a very well off family, but we are good enough that they can send me abroad.

My parents wants me to study nursing in Germany, as it's one of the courses I can join easily and promises a job and good money right after graduation, not to mention many perks while studying. But my mom's a nurse. I don't want to study nursing. I absolutely loathe it.

If anyone can tell me what all I need to do in order to enter forensics as well as how hard it is to get a job that pays well under it, it would truly help me so much. Same for the job of a professor, I've tried Google but they all give such varying answers.

Also someone please tell me how and where I can study forensics? I do not care about the place, Germany, Canada, Scotland- anywhere. I wish to get a scholarship in forensics and/or literature. A university is what I'm hoping for since I can choose multiple majors.

Please do not ignore this and help me, my family is breathing down my neck about the nursing course. If I do that, I'm afraid I'll lose myself just like my mother did.

Please help.

[training-tale]

Forensic Nursing Course: At Training Tale

With Training Tale's Forensic Nursing Course, learn the steps to a rewarding career. Acquire abilities to connect justice and healthcare! Training Tale offers a Forensic Nursing Course. Encouraging Nurses in Justice and Healthcare

There is a greater need than ever for skilled healthcare workers in the quickly changing world of today. Within this industry, forensic nursing stands out as a distinct and vital area that blends nursing knowledge with legal and investigative skills. Enrolling in Training Tale's Forensic Nursing Course could be the ideal next step if you've ever considered developing your nursing career while having a real impact on the judicial system.

A Forensic Nursing Course: What Is It?

A forensic nursing course is a type of educational program created to give registered nurses the specific knowledge and abilities needed to practice in forensic settings. With this course, which focuses on the relationship between law enforcement and healthcare, nurses can support investigations and provide compassionate care.

Our forensic nursing course at Training Tale includes subjects like:

Gathering and preserving evidence

Concerns about law and ethics in forensic nursing

Investigating crime scenes and forensic pathology

Trauma-informed treatment for assault victims

providing testimony as a medical expert in court

Our extensive curriculum guarantees that students acquire both theoretical knowledge and practical skills, equipping them with the confidence needed to operate in a variety of forensic environments, such as crime scenes, hospitals, and legal offices.

Why Choose Training Tale for a Forensic Nursing Course?

It's important to pick the correct place to continue your studies, and Training Tale is an excellent choice for those who want to become forensic nurses. Working professionals can benefit from our unique combination of online learning and hands-on training in forensic nursing.

What makes Training Tale unique is this:

Expert-Guided Training: We guarantee that you will receive a top-notch education that is based on practical experience because our lecturers are seasoned experts with backgrounds in both forensic science and nursing.

Flexible Learning: You can finish your homework at your own speed using our online modules, which makes it simpler to juggle your studies with your existing obligations at work and home.

Hands-On Training: We provide hands-on training opportunities in addition to online learning to make sure you acquire the practical skills required to succeed in the

Networking Opportunities: Connect with professionals from both healthcare and legal sectors, building a network that can support your career growth.

Career Opportunities After a Forensic Nursing Course

After completing a Forensic Nursing Course, graduates are prepared to work in a variety of settings where healthcare and legal systems intersect. This versatile qualification opens doors to many rewarding career opportunities, including:

Who Should Enrol in a Forensic Nursing Course?

For registered nurses who wish to pursue a career in forensics, the Forensic Nursing Course is a great option. This course can provide you the skills you need to make a difference whether you want to work with law enforcement, in sexual assault clinics, or in emergency departments.

If you are someone who: 

Is passionate about patient advocacy and fairness,

is curious about the legal ramifications of healthcare,

aspires to support trauma and crime victims,

If so, Training Tale's Forensic Nursing Course is ideal for you.

The Benefits of Forensic Nurses in Contemporary Culture

After completing a forensic nursing course, nurses gain the ability to provide trauma-informed care that promotes patients' pursuit of justice in addition to their own healing. By taking a comprehensive approach to both professions, the work that forensic nurses conduct serves to close the gap between healthcare and the legal system.

The Format of Training Tale's Forensic Nursing Course

Our forensic nursing course at Training Tale is designed to offer a thorough educational experience that strikes a balance between theoretical understanding and real-world application. What to anticipate from the program is as follows.

[drnightingale]

The following is a message from @frostmoon-willow / @frostmoonwillownova regarding her mother's behaviour over the past few months, which involves forcing her to continue to do a medical assistant course that she didn't want to do in the first place after it severely worsened her mental health. Details under the cut.

"Hello everyone! I love you all so much, and thank you for all the support and kindness you have given me over the years! It genuinely means so much to me! -Frostmoon"

The following is the message she sent to her mother earlier today. I have so far heard nothing, but I will keep you all updated through reblogs and further posting.

"This has gotten to the point that I feel I need to write this.

I'm sick and tired of you choosing everything for me. You keep saying that you aren't choosing everything, and that you're doing all of this for my better. You have been choosing everything for me for a long time. Choosing my classes for me, making me go into different things that I don't want to. I have not expressed one ounce of interest in medical assisting, and you put me here. I may not plan on going into EMS in the future, but you know full well that I enjoy EMS and EMR things. You say that this is to get me a good job, but I am not going to get a medical assisting job.

You say that I hate this class because I'm behind, but the reason I'm behind is because I don't care. I'm not just procrastinating this because I'm a natural procrastinator, I am because I don't feel like or care about doing any of this. I have not had any fun in this class, except for the blood stuff because I wanted to be a blood spatter analyst (which I'm thinking I might not be, I'm not interested in taking physics). 

Everyone in my year has chosen fun senior year classes. I could have been in science fiction, where they go to movies and write stories. I don't care if I would have taken a math class, that would be way better on my mental health than this medical assisting class.

You force me to do things just so I can do things I enjoy, like playing video games and hanging out with friends. I have been struggling through this class so far, but I don't want to continue. 

I don't have a fear of needles, but I dislike them. Seeing knives sticking out of skin somehow doesn't bother me, but needles do. They make me uncomfortable. Yes, I get shots, but have you noticed how I never look at them? I don't like needles.

If you hadn't put me in this class I could have been doing things that would help me on the path to a career I do want. I could be taking online courses for forensic science. I could have a lot of things done and that would help me get the job I want, not the one you want for me. I think you are projecting your wants onto me. You are into nursing and medical assisting and are making me do that. 

I do not want to do this. I am not happy, and I am struggling mentally. I've cried multiple times during this class, and you know I've gone to talk to counsellors. How has that not rung a bell? Can't you tell I hate this? I'm behind because I have no motivation to do this. I have to pretend to be characters to get stuff done, but at this point of doing injections, I am done. 

I know you've paid money to get me into this course, but I don't care. I'm struggling. I could've had an amazing senior year like everyone else, and like what I imagined. But because you always choose things, I'm stuck in this class, crying, because you won't let me out. I'm sick and tired of it. You don't listen, and you continue to tell me that I'm only struggling because I'm behind. But I'm behind because I just don't care. 

You think that it's my friends that are telling me you're a horrible person, but I've noticed some of the things you do as well. You think you're guiding me to an amazing future as a medical assistant, but that is not what I want to do. You choose everything for me. I don't get a say in things. You didn't even ask me if I wanted to do the medical assisting program, you just signed me up. I told you I didn't want to, but you still went with it. 

I don't want you to take away my video game privileges or my snails, but I'm done. I want to be able to enjoy my life without having to think about coming here every day and doing things that I don't care about. I understand that I have multiple mental issues, and I know you're trying to help me with that, but forcing me to continue this course is not helping me. I do not want to continue with this.

I've decided to try and write this to try and have you realise how much I'm struggling, but I know you'll either ignore this and force me to continue, or even if you let me drop out, take away my phone and video game privileges. And don't you see that as a problem? I'm nearly 18, and here you are, grounding me like I'm a little kid. I know I struggle with many things, but this is one thing I'm done struggling with. 

I would like to be able to not worry about forcing myself to do these things just to play video games to make myself happy. I've tried to tell you a million times but you don't listen. You blame my friends for making me think you're horrible, and blame them for making me 'gay'. All I would like is for you to accept me for being pansexual, and maybe even try to support me. It would be wonderful. But you try to squash that out of me. 

I'm tired of being controlled by you. I want to be happy, and the medical assisting program is making me stressed and depressed. I really am tired of you making huge decisions like this for me. I don't get to choose, and you force me to stay in this class just because you think it's good for me.

I don't know how things will end out after you get this, but I just hope that somehow this might make my life easier. I hope you can find it somewhere in your heart to do what's actually best for me and my mental health. I want to be accepted for who I am, and want to begin on the course I want for my future. If you get mad at me, fine. I'm actually quite used to you being mad at me for contradicting you. But I hope this can persuade you to actually take a moment. and think and realise that what you are doing is causing me stress and anxiety.

 I'm tired of you being controlling. You are even if you think you aren't. You may not be a helicopter parent, but you are forcing me to do things, and monitoring my every move. You cut off contact with my friends just because they're against what you see as right. I'm tired of it all.. What I would like is to have a supportive mother, who will help me do what I want, not what she thinks is best for me. A mother who asks what her daughter wants and tries to help with exactly what she wants to do. 

I hope you read this and take a moment to think about all of this. I haven't written a note like this yet because I was scared you'd ground me, take away my phone, video game privileges, and snails; but this is at a point where I just can't take it anymore. I'm done.

Nova"

I am hoping to hear from her soon, and I will keep you updated on the situation, however, depending on how her mother reacts, it may be a while.

I'd like to end this off on a happy note.

I don't know much about her mother, only that she is an ex-nurse and a very strict Mormon woman who controls frostmoon, not only in the ways mentioned there, but also forcing her to wear makeup, go to church and abide by Mormon doctrine when she fully knows that she doesn't care about any of it.

Frostmoon standing up to her mother like this is a huge step up for her. I have tried to convince her to stand up for herself more over the past year we have been together, but she has always been too scared or nervous, and for good reason. But today, even if it was because she hit an all time mental low, she made a huge step to communicate what she needed from her parents, concisely and clearly, and I cannot be any more proud of her.

Anyone with experience with these kinds of parents are welcome to offer advice if they wish

[wolfsbanemanor]

So, how did they become vampires anyway? (Part 2)

Obligatory Link to Part 1

When Lilith brought him home from the hospital, Caleb wanted to take a long shower. It was all he'd wanted to do since the bartender found him passed out on the bathroom tile. (Before that, the thing he'd wanted most was to get away from his attacker. He had tried fighting her off, tried to run away, and he couldn't. He just couldn't.) He could still feel her hands all over him, and he felt so dirty. That invasive forensic exam hadn't helped, either. He had to remove every article of clothing he'd been wearing, even down to his earring. He had been photographed, swabbed, poked, and prodded everywhere imaginable for several hours, which was the last thing he had wanted. The nurse who performed the exam was as nice and gentle about it as possible, but there was no way it was going to be pleasant. It was almost worse than what had caused him to need this examination in the first place. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to go to the police. Would they believe him? He doubted it. Glowing green eyes, fangs, unnatural coldness, odd-tasting blood? Who could believe that? They'd probably think he was some Strangerville lunatic or something. Or they'd think he was a weakling. As far as Caleb knew, this sort of thing didn't happen too often in Simlandia (though precisely how often, he wasn't sure), but when it did, it usually involved a man forcing himself on a woman, not the other way around. And as far as Caleb knew, it didn't involve the man hypnotizing his victim with glowing green eyes, or forcing her to drink his blood, or cold...fluids that should have been warm. He had Lilith stand outside the door. Even though it was their home, he didn't feel safe alone. It felt like that woman was everywhere! And who knows, maybe she was? She had, after all, managed to get past a door that ordinarily only male Sims could get through, a door that Caleb was sure he'd locked behind himself when he'd gone in. (How that was possible, he wasn't sure.) Lilith obliged. When she heard the shower turn on, she sank to the floor, sobbing quietly. This was all my fault! she thought. If I hadn't been so selfish, if I had stayed with him, this wouldn't have happened! She thought back to when they were little kids. Caleb got picked on a lot. Mainly, he wasn't very good at sports, and he got really good grades. She would always step in and stand up for him. She got in trouble for fighting a lot at school. She had always protected him, but she couldn't protect him this time. (Of course, this always cemented in the other boys' minds that Caleb was a wuss, but Lilith was willing to teach them a lesson as many times as needed.) She had always been there for him, and the one time she wasn't, he'd been... In the shower, Caleb suddenly felt dizzy and unwell again. He sat down on the floor, letting the warm water rain down on him (something he almost never did, even as a teenager, when he would write sad poems, despite living a relatively happy and normal life) and leaned against the tiled wall, shower pouf in hand, waiting for that feeling to pass. When it finally did, getting up felt like a monumental task. And when he finally got out and into a fluffy bathrobe, the room started spinning again, and he sat on the lidded toilet with his head between his knees, waiting for it to stop. The last thing he needed was to take another header into bathroom tile. On the other side of the door, Lilith picked herself up, and dried her tears. She had to be strong for her brother. She couldn't let him see her like that. She made it look like she was concentrating really hard on a book, to hide the tear streaks, the smudged makeup, and the puffiness. When he walked out and into his bedroom, she went in and splashed some cold water on her face. She then got some bandages, and re-bandaged the wounds on his head and neck. When she shut the door, the emotion of the last 12 hours or so overwhelmed him, and he cried into his pillow until he was too exhausted and fell asleep.

[scotianostra]

December 2nd 1837 saw the birth in Edinburgh of Joseph Bell, the lecturer in medicine whose deductive approach to diagnosis inspired Arthur Conan Doyle’s character Sherlock Holmes.

Bell attended the Edinburgh Academy before studying medicine at the University of Edinburgh. He graduated with his MD in 1859 and became a house surgeon at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary under James Syme. He then went on to become a demonstrator in anatomy at the University of Edinburgh Medical School before becoming a lecturer in surgery and in clinical surgery. He also started the first nurses’ training course in Scotland at the Royal Infirmary. He was also personal surgeon to Queen Victoria whenever she was in Edinburgh, and became a Justice of the Peace, and a Deputy Lord Lieutenant.

Among his students and contemporaries Bell became famous for his ability to make swift and accurate diagnoses of patients, often on the basis of close observation of clues that others simply never saw. His party-piece was to pick a stranger and, through observation, deduce his occupation and recent activities. One of Bell’s students in 1877 was Arthur Conan Doyle. Bell clearly made a strong impression on Doyle. In 1887 the latter published A Study in Scarlet which marked the first appearance of Sherlock Holmes. Holmes was explicitly modelled on Joseph Bell and Doyle later wrote a letter to him saying: “It is most certainly to you that I owe Sherlock Holmes although, in the stories, I have the advantage of being able to place him in all sorts of dramatic situations”. It is said that Bell took considerable pride in the success of the Sherlock Holmes stories.

Joseph Bell died in 1911. He was buried in Edinburgh’s Dean Cemetery next to his wife, Edith Murray. In November 2004, the US Fox TV network aired the first episode of the American medical drama House, starring the English actor Hugh Laurie. The creator of the series has described it as “a subtle homage to Sherlock Holmes”: which in many ways brings the setting for the character full circle back to its medical roots and to Joseph Bell. He is remembered more directly in the name of the Joseph Bell Centre, established in 2001 as a centre for Forensic Statistics and Legal Reasoning by the University of Edinburgh, Glasgow Caledonian University and the Lothian & Borders Police Forensic Science Laboratory.

Conan Doyle described Bell as “a tall, stately, kindly man, keen eyes and aquiline features contributing to his air of intent investigation.”

[practically-an-x-man]

surprise! your OCs are required to attend Professor Barbara Allen's forensics lectures for a semester! what's the ratemyprofessor review they give her and how do they do?

oooh bestie you have NO idea what's coming, I literally WAS a forensics major before I switched to trade school :D

some long answers here, so they'll be under the cut. thank you so much for the ask!

Ophelia: 5 stars. Loves the lecture, takes exceptionally detailed notes and ends up with curve-breaking high grades. Her only problem would be missing class due to late night hero work making her exhausted in the morning, but... well, she feels like Professor Allen's very familiar with that.

Jasper: 4.4 stars. They're a nursing student, so they don't mind gruesome pictures or high-intensity anatomy discussions, but they feel like Professor Allen just goes a bit too fast in the lectures (lol). They'd pull good grades, and probably end up with a bit of unintentional extra credit when Professor Allen lands in the ER with some unexplained cuts and bruises and Jasper's the one to stitch her up and send her on her way.

Kestrel: No rating. Probably didn't even show up to the first lecture. To be fair, pretty much all of their higher education has come from exploring and adventuring in the wilderness. They probably weren't even aware they'd been signed up for the lecture. (but don't take it personally, if they were there, they'd be sure to pay attention)

Rae: Originally rated 3.5 stars, but bumped it up to 4.5 after Prof. Allen was kind and understanding in offering her an extension. She did well enough in college the first time around (Masters in Foreign Language), but she also struggles with severe insomnia and some anxiety issues. At first, she probably say Prof. Allen as somewhat distant, but once she actually went up and talked to her and explained everything, she actually ended up with a renewed respect and finished the rest of the semester very well.

Robin: Hm... 3 stars. Not a bad class, but she's much more music-inclined than science-inclined, and having an ASL interpreter would've made the class a hell of a lot easier for her (that's not Professor Allen's fault, of course, but still wasn't the best experience for Robin). She'd probably end the semester decidedly neutral - not her favorite experience, but would also understand that it's probably a very enjoyable class for someone who enjoys the material a little more.

Madison: 4.5 stars. She likes psychology a lot, so she'd probably really enjoy a forensics class, and I feel like she'd like Professor Allen as an instructor. And I feel like she'd be able to keep up with the lectures pretty well! She's a quick thinker. If anything, she'd be a little irritated by the amount of studying she needs to do, but that's the only thing keeping her from a full 5 stars.

Quinn: It really depends. Either she'd get fed up with all the stifling structure and order of the class and end up dropping out (and rating Prof. Allen pretty low), or she'd actually find the material interesting and would end up at the top of the class. It's not really a matter of capability or intelligence, she's got plenty of both, but she'll only bother with the class if she enjoys the subject being taught. So... it's a coin flip.

Katherine: She wouldn't enjoy the class, but she'd rate Professor Allen highly anyway (4 or 5 stars). After all, she's a good professor, Katherine just isn't really a fan of that sort of subject. She's plenty smart, but she's much more artistic-minded than forensics would imply. The only reason she'd take the class to begin with is for the promise of forensic sketch artistry, but even that's only a week and a half out of the full semester.

[candiedspriteee]

2k23-2k24 School year!!

It’s that timeee again! It’s back to school time and of course it’s my finally year of high school ૮꒰ ྀྀི ɵ̷̥̥᷄ ♡ɵ̷̥̥᷅꒱১! Honestly I’m excited and also a little sad! I’m going to collage so I can study to become a forensic nurse.

૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა━━━━━━━━━━━━━━୨♡୧

What are my goals for this year??

Get a 5 on my Ap Bio exam

Get my cumulative higher

Get proper sleep

Get my license

Apply for College

૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა━━━━━━━━━━━━━━୨♡୧

Things that need improvement or tweak?

My sleep schedule

Discipline

Inner peace

૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა━━━━━━━━━━━━━━୨♡୧

Y’all! It’s my final year in high school, and honestly I still cannot believe it! It literally feels so surreal to me. I going out with a huge bang this year. Of course I’ll be sticking to my goals and pushing forwards. To all of my darlings in school I hope y’all accomplish your goals and have a fabulous time!

Xoxo, Sprite <33 ૮꒰ིྀ˶꜆´˘`꜀˶꒱ིྀა