#hospital vibes

[nascenterror]

Never gonna stop thinking about that line in that one book

[ivrket]

[thegoodmorningman]

Good Morning ☝🏼✌🏼🤘🏼🤙🏼

[lunacias]

(Silence. CARPENTER tries to rally HAYWARD's spirits. She's afraid she's going to lose him.)

"All three of us - we can all go on living, Hayward. Just like you said."

[sillyfreaktime]

my favorite scenes in house, m.d are the ones that go like this

wilson: you stabbed my grandma???

house: to teach you a lesson! everything is fragile, even the people you love!

wilson: she’s 92!

house: oh please, that old lady’s seen worse!

wilson: house-

house: wait! “old lady…” I know what’s wrong w my patient!!! she’s old!!! 🏃🏻💨

[andoutofharm]

another thing i really liked was the differences between when they would play tbp in full back when it released and how it was played this weekend. back then it was always mcr as The Black Parade, a fictional band, playing the album, and they killed them off in the black parade is dead. i liked that they didn’t revive that concept or that fictional band but instead were themselves, but a slightly darker/more solemn version of themselves.

[stefisdoingthings]

hospital yuri for the soul

[hellcifrogs]

oh man, once i was writing a fic where Shikamaru feels so bad about his first mission, remember in that scene where he asks Tsunade about what that one thing medical nin need that other shinobi don't know/have? he actually figures it out and when she tells him he says he already knows and she commends him and ask him if he wants to train under her with Sakura. At first he declined because he's a lazy ass but later when he's in deep thought he thinks it would actually be good to know this and he comes back to agree to it and she trains him alongside Sakura to be a medical nin

it's not really a request i was just telling you something but if you think it a fun idea could you draw a medical nin Shikamaru design?

I could work an actual design for him later, bc it is interesting, but personally? I can never take the idea of medic Shikamaru seriously... I understand the logic, but I just don't feel it.

[ky-landfill]

Good evening, madam...

[bluestranger]

one minute in and this is already my favorite silent hill game yet

[yourgalgremlin]

Wymack being Neil’s father figure gets me every time, because he’s so…Wymack about it.

What he said:

Vs what he was thinking:

Vs what he meant:

“I’m not your dad but I am a dad-bod-shaped-guy who’ll listen if you need to talk about shit.”

❤️‍🩹😭

[beccawise7]

The feel good story we all need...

A pediatric surgeon dresses his patients up as their favorite Superhero before going into surgery! Making them feel safe & powerful!

Love everything about this. 💜🖤

Have an amazing day! Change your corner of the world!

~beccawise7💜🖤

[tillfate]

who the fuck is this guy!? what's going on i'm scared!!!!

[shares-a-vest]

@steddielovemonth Day 25: Love is… Asking, “Do you want a blanket?” (Prompt by @thefreakandthehair)

wc: 952 | Rated: T | cw: Hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries and general hospital stuff, physical pain, one mention of blood

Tags: Post-s4, Fix-It, Eddie Munson Lives, Hospital

'Hospital Blankets'

“Steve? Hey, Steve?”

Steve is pulled out of a restless slumber by Eddie’s stage whispering. A twinge in his back fully rouses him as he remembers exactly where he is – in Hawkins General, bent up like a pretzel on what is quite possibly the world’s hardest chair, wearing nothing but a hospital gown and his underwear. He blinks harshly, his vision blurry as he looks in the direction of the chattering, dark-headed form lying in the bed in front of him.

“Huh?” he grunts, his voice thick with sleep as he becomes very much aware of the overall pain radiating over his whole body.

His throat burns too, even from a single word. He instinctively reaches a hand up to the reddened scar there – already a formed habit – only to scratch himself with his patient wristband.

“Do you want a blanket?” Eddie continues, his weakened voice indicating he is barely conscious, let alone aware of Steve’s discomfort.

Steve arches his back this time but it causes his chewed-up sides to ache, the bandages stiffening and contorting. Their tacky borders pinching at the already tight skin and scar tissue.

He gives up and slumps back in the chair, clutching the armrests for dear life as a twang shoots directly up his spine to his head. He runs a hand through his hair, impossible to keep from flopping in his face considering all he can do is give himself a goddamn sponge bath these days.

He should have just listened to Robin (and more than a few disgruntled nurses) when they begged him to stay in his own room.

But his room feels empty. Big and dark, just like his family home but a little more white and clinical smelling. It gives him nightmares. If he manages to settle enough to sleep that is…

It’s kinda hard when your friends are scattered throughout the bowels of the local hospital, all in varying states of distress meanwhile, outside the world has half caved in.

“Steeeve,” Eddie whines this time as he repeats, “Do you want a blanket?”

He half dry-sobs his query and Steve has no choice but to shimmy upright – thankfully, the slippery cover of his stupid seat helps him up this time.

Blanket… he finally considers and finds himself stifling a shiver.

He didn’t think to bring a blanket with him as he was much too focused on getting out of bed and down the hall to Eddie’s room. A room that is much colder than his own, which the occupant clearly knows.

Eddie’s fist is balled up in his blankets, offering them up as he raises his shaky arm.

“No,” Steve says softly, shaking his head and waving him away.

Eddie needs it more.

With a herculean effort, Steve moves the chair a few inches closer to the bed, hoping it isn’t scraping the floor or tangling up any of the wires and tubes hooked up to beeping machines – god knows where they each begin and end. His sides all but seize up as he sits back down and forces himself to correct his posture.

“But you’re cold,” Eddie frowns, his voice impossibly small.

“I’m fine,” Steve protests.

Eddie’s weak hand punches at his banket in a haphazard swish motion.

“Get into bed with me…” he mumbles, closing his eyes, “Rest with me, sweetheart.”

His head lolls to the side and Steve huffs out a laugh. Eddie is certainly on one hell of a cocktail of meds, mixed with the overall exhaustion that must come from almost dying. Steve can barely keep his own eyes open and he wasn’t anywhere near as close to it.

His heart thuds in his chest as thoughts of Eddie’s almost lifeless body rush back to his sleepy brain.

Dustin’s sobs… Robin scrambling to tear up clothes and sheets from the Upside Down version of the Munson’s trailer to make bandages… Nancy forcing everyone to focus as she devised a game plan, stopping every few moments to shoot down undead bats…

Steve screws his eyes shut and stands, bracing his arms on the sides of the chair before swiftly moving them to the bed for purchase.

At least Eddie’s right side is a little less banged up – but only just enough, Steve thinks as he hikes back the three warm layers of blankets enough to sit himself down on the bed. He swings his legs up next, clenching his jaw as every muscle in his body aches and pains from what transpired however many days ago.

The bed is a tight fit, but Steve doesn’t mind. The mattress is perhaps a fraction more comfortable than the chair, but he soon warms as he settles down and rights the blankets, smoothing them out for good measure and double-checking he hasn’t disturbed Eddie too much.

His body warms almost instantly as he rests his head beside Eddie’s on his pillow, positioned close enough that he can feel frizzed dark curls tickling his cheek. Eddie’s wispier than he expected and smells of the generic hospital soap – but at least the dried and caked-up blood is gone.

“That’s good…” Eddie coos, turning his head to face Steve, those tickling tendrils now replaced with a soft woosh of his breathing.

He can see the scar on Eddie’s cheek now. The bandage patch has been removed, exposing raw stitches today. Steve sighs, relieved by the smallest of steps forward.

Eddie can’t do much more than reach his hand out. And Steve takes it, interlacing their fingers despite the heart monitor clipped onto Eddie’s right index finger.

“Blanket’s... warm…” he mutters, nodding as he feels slumber tugging at him once again.

Eddie hums in agreeance and lightly squeezes his hand.

[nanaten]

hey gamers im in the hospital right now send your thoughts and prayers and also clausten

[liminalmindcore]