#i on the other hand need the good doctor's dic—
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starmocha · 6 days ago
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Not in front of Happy Snowman, Zayne 😥😭
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proxylynn · 2 years ago
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What facts do you know about Carver?
I tried to search your answers, but found almost nothing.
[I don't look too into all that much Carver honestly. But let me check the tumblr. *digging* From the words of Gnome...]
"Carver is Alan's lil shit co-worker."
"His age is unknown but pretty much an adult. He has been in the assassin job as long as Alan has. He is a lot shorter than Alan, just a bit taller than Stu but it doesn't bother him. He likes to use chainsaws and electric carving knives w/ his victims. Carver always gets in trouble for leaving a mess when on a mission, since he really loves the sight of blood (He might be into Bloodplay). A complete Sadist. He kinda has a habit of threatening others that he will experiment on them. If you try to pursue a relationship with him he will call you "Guinea Pig". He can't connect/empathize with people. So a relationship is pretty much all physical and psychological. He won't buy you flowers, but he'll carve his name in you. He won't take you on dates, but he will show you his 'projects'. He doesn't fall for you. he can't but he does find you fascinating."
"He likes people who are too curious for their own good. Curiosity killed the cat as they say."
"he knows about Alan's 'doe-eyes'."
"Carver is not a fighter, but MC will probably never manage to lay a hand on him. He is too quick on his feet."
"he definitely can feel other emotions. It's just rare for him and he is just too into his job. If he does feel love, however, it's not even qualified as such. He won't go out of his way to do stuff for you, coddle you, or even get close to you. It is merely a fascination and what he believes in the mere exposure effect."
"In a way, yes, Carver is smart. Not too smart. Like Alan, High school is very much his end of education."
"He is 5' 8"."
"Carver is a top."
"Choking and Overstim are some good kinks for him."
"He likes 69. He finds it really degrading so it’s perfect for him."
"He can sing."
"Carver loves to keep things from his victims. Usually, they are either jewelry or an item of clothing."
"Carver has some side hustles with his main job. He needs a camera to require it."
"he thinks he gets along with everybody. Others would disagree."
"Anyway Carver is like 7 inches. (dic size same as Alan)"
"Carver's favorite animal is a snake. He likes all snakes but vipers are his favs."
"prefer knives to guns, technically, knives but not kitchen knives or even hunting knives. things like ancient doctor surgical equipment."
"dirty talk: Aggressive, degrading and violent."
"Alan can't really dance, maybe swings his hips but that's pretty much it. I think it would be goddamn hilarious if Carver could,,, Think he would be good at waltz and ballet."
"Carver got no ass! 0/10, FLAT AS A BOARD"
"Carver is a confusing character. You don't really know what his tastes are. He doesn't do "dating" he is not a fan of that mushy gushy stuff (unless it's about organs and flesh). He likes having his "special one" be scared of him but at the same time keep up with him. He will never really view anyone as an equal, just as pets he will toy with until they break."
"Rarely sleeps."
"Carver isn't dead or granted powers."
"Carver doesn't really go out in public frequently."
"Is Carver completely cut off from society? Kinda like Alan, yes he is also cut off but is still a little caught up with the current times."
"Is there something supernatural with his eyes and the change in his hair? Yes."
"Carver's parents aren't around anymore."
"Carver has worked for the boss the longest. He doesn't remember for how long, just that he was there for a good while."
"Likes messing with people."
"Favorite killing weapons...Carver is a scarificator/bone saw."
"He loves medical history, it’s what got him hired in the first place!"
"Stitches and Carver had REAL names. They're current names were given to them by their boss."
"Has Carver ever broken into Alan's house? plenty. one of the reasons he placed bear traps around his place."
"He is taller than Stu but shorter than Erika. (Alan is 6'4", Erika is 5' 9", and Stu is 5' 7"...So 5'8" is Lynn's guess for this."
"Caver doesn't remember his birthday, so he made his birthday December 15th."
"Does Carver celebrate Halloween? I feel like he is the equivalent of Jack Skellington with every holiday. Wants to participate in human festivities but doesn't quite get them and ends up causing chaos around him."
"Alan and Carver have more coworkers."
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redhairedwolfwitch · 3 years ago
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Doctor Y/n - Attending Orthopedic Surgeon - 4 - Grey's Anatomy x Fem!Reader
"Doctor S/n... a big trauma just came in... I thought you should know..." Helm struggled for breath, putting down the tablet you were holding you hurried over.
"Helm, what's wrong? Do they need my help down there?"
"No, no... it's, the big trauma, it's DeLuca, he, he was stabbed." Helm stuttered, watching your face fall before you ran off, leaving Helm stood at the nurses station alone.
///
"Y/n, hey, what's-"
"DeLuca's been stabbed."
"Meredith's on the vent and now DeLuca's been stabbed?" Teddy realised, holding you by the shoulders as you trembled.
"Crap, Webber's paging me... I have to go-" Teddy was cut off as you nodded, swiping away your tears as your pager went off and had you running in the other direction.
///
"Run a TEG to check for his clotting factors."
You could hear Teddy and Owen over the intercom when you arrived in the gallery. Webber turned to acknowledge you, but your eyes were on DeLuca on the OR table.
"Bovie."
"Please. Don't take this boy, please, don't take this boy." Webber prayed whilst you let out a quiet sob.
"Please, stop taking away my friends."
///
"Alright, I just need to place the drain, then we are good to start the wire closure." Teddy smiled to Owen, pausing as she saw you standing in the gallery with Webber.
"Great work everyone!" Webber announced as he pressed the button for the intercom.
///
A deep sigh left your lips as you exited the gallery, pausing as Jo messaged you.
Joey: come to Val's room NOW
Braces: on my way
Jogging towards Val's patient room, the adrenaline from the terror you felt from seeing DeLuca on that table began to run through you.
///
"Val's coding, hurry!" Levi shouted as you ran by, pushing the crash cart.
For a split second, you spotted the incubator holding Luna, and you realised what Jo had wanted all along.
"No, no, no, no!"
///
Your eyes widened as you watched Jo try to resusciate Val, spotting Hayes with Luna. The taste of iron in your mouth broke your concentration. Biting your lip so hard, as a bad feeling washed over you.
///
Joey: Luna's stable
Braces: I'm sorry about Val, Joey
///
Your eyes widened as you walked up to the NICU, gaze landing on Jo with Luna holding her finger with her tiny hand.
"Looks like I'm going to be an aunt." You whispered to yourself, leaning in the doorway as you watched Jo with Luna.
///
"Time of death. 22:50."
///
"Teddy, hey, I was just going to see how Andrew was doing." You smiled, still buzzing from watching Jo with Luna.
"Y/n... I'm sorry. Andrew, he didn't make it. He had cardiac tamponade, then he went into DIC on the way to the OR."
Your smile fell as shock washed over you, your body rigid as Teddy pulled you into a hug.
///
You were laying in bed when you got the invite from Webber for Andrew's memorial service.
You had the day off.
Jo was also off, but she was with Jackson. Teddy was working.
So you were laying in bed, staring at selfies you had taken with DeLuca. Then you remembered turning up on his and Arizona's doorstep after you and Leah broke up.
You should have kept talking to DeLuca, but the two of you drifted with everything going on. Now you couldn't talk to him ever again.
///
Joey: Link and I are daydrinking and Jackson is on call but he's here too
Joey: are you okay?
Braces: i need ice cream
Braces: i need to cry and eat ice cream, just like I did with Andrew when Leah broke up with me
Joey: is there ice cream in the freezer?
Braces: we ate it when we had cramps
Braces: i ordered ice cream
///
Zander Perez: so, Pierce and some other attending lost a naked man in the hospital
Y/n S/n: wow, that's just wow, thanks for the update Doctor Perez
///
Link: why is Jo whining about babies?
Link: she sounds like she wants one
Y/n: what
Y/n: tell her to adopt Luna
Link: are you sure?
Y/n: the other options are worse, let's be real
Link: true
///
Jackson: DeLuca's memorial is tonight, I'm driving Jo and Link, we're picking you up
Y/n: okay
Y/n: tell me when you're outside
Jackson: don't get ice cream in my car
Y/n: i ate it all already
Jackson: Jo says :(
///
Teddy: I keep seeing DeLuca walking around
Y/n: are you okay?
Teddy: We did everything we could
Teddy: But he's still dead
///
Jackson: we're outside
Y/n: on my way down
///
You were standing with Jo and Link when the car arrived with Carina and Maya. It was only when you spotted Teddy that a croak left your throat.
"Everybody, can I have your attention please? I appreciate you all being here tonight. Grey Sloan is a family. And Andrew DeLuca was a member of that family. And his death, however brave. Well, it's still heartbreaking. We can't honour his life like we might have in the past, but we can still honour him. Doctor Perez."
Teddy was sat on the floor, to the side of everyone, when you snuck over to sit by her.
A sob escaped Teddy's lips as Andrew's surgical residency application video began to play, her head resting on your shoulder as she gasped for breath.
///
The two of you were sat in the car park in silence, when Owen walked over.
"Teddy? Y/n?"
"Hey... Teddy?" Owen whispered, spotting that you weren't leaving Teddy's side, but she was staring into space.
"I'm gonna take you two home, okay?" Owen murmured, helping you stand Teddy up, before she was carried to Owen's car.
///
"Hey, want some more? Hey, look at me, mommy's okay, okay?" Owen cooed, trying to calm Allison down.
"Mama..." Allison murmured, spotting you as you walked over to the coffee pot.
"She's barely blinking." You murmured to Owen, crouching down to entertain Allison. Owen nodded as he slipped pat you, going to check on Teddy, who was still laying in bed, staring into space.
"I know, I'm worried about her, too, Ally." You whispered as Allison squirmed in the high chair, wanting to be picked up.
"Is this really necessary? You can't get her to drink a sip of water?" Amelia whispered as she dropped off the equipment for an IV.
"No. She barely looks at Y/n or Allison, unless Y/n is physically holding Allison. Thank you for the fluids, I'll keep you updated, okay?" Owen tried to shut the door, but Amelia put her hand out to stop it.
"Owen, let me try, let me try to help." Amelia bargained, waving slightly as you walked by in the background, going to try put Allison down for a nap.
///
"Any luck?" Owen asked, waiting outside of the room as Amelia went in.
"No."
"If something doesn't change soon, I'm going to have to have her admitted." Owen sighed as Amelia folded her arms.
"Owen, she's overworked, she's overtired, she just lost DeLuca. She's Y/n's girlfriend. She probably just needs some more rest." Amelia suggested but Owen frowned.
"She hasn't spoken, she hasn't eaten, she hasn't so much as glanced at her daughter, unless Y/n is holding her. Amelia, the only ever time I've seen that kind of look is in soldiers, and plenty of them never came back." Owen exclaimed, pausing as he heard the floor creak.
"Chrissy was similar when she... broke. But Teddy isn't Chrissy. I think she's stuck in her head, like a coma... and she's only going to wake up when whatever's happening in her head comes to an end." You played with your sleeves, ignoring Owen's eyes as Amelia reached out to hug you.
"She lets out a tired breath when I try to lay with her, and there's something behind her eyes when I'm holding Allison in her eye line, but whatever's in her head, it's keeping her in there." You murmured, your chin resting on Amelia as she held you, hearing Owen let out a tired breath in response.
///
You were napping in Allison's room whilst Owen and Amelia tried to build the bed for Leo, for when he would be staying at the apartment with you, Teddy and Jo.
Jo was at work, but she knew what was going on.
"Two heads are better than one? Y/n's napping with Allison, so..."
"Amelia, you don't have to stay." Owen admitted, picking up one of the pieces of bed.
"I know." Amelia smirked, sitting down to read the instructions.
///
Owen and Amelia were standing in the kitchen when you exited Allison's room, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you went to sit with Teddy.
"She just sits there, internalising everything. I think she's terrified, but it used to be so obvious when Y/n was afraid, because it was the only look she'd ever have on her face when she saw me." Owen admitted, watching as you sat down near the window, watching Teddy stare into space.
"It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault."
Owen sat up as he heard a thump, running over to spot you getting up off the floor.
"She spoke!" You whispered, detangling yourself from the blanket you'd wrapped around yourself before.
"What did she say?" Owen asked, hurrying around to the side of the bed Teddy laid on.
"She said 'it's all my fault' several times... I think she feels guilty for DeLuca... and Allison." You explained as Amelia peeked her head in.
"I think Allison knows something's wrong. Since it seems the only time she'll sleep is in your arms, Y/n." Amelia admitted, passing Allison into your arms.
///
"You run from pain, Teddy. But the thing with Y/n is, she doesn't run, she doesn't run because expects everyone to leave. She's terrified she's going to lose you, you need to wake up Teddy. Y/n, Owen, Allison, they all need you, but you need them. You need to stop running away, and run towards them. Wake up." A phantom version of Meredith Grey spoke, talking directly to Teddy in her mind.
///
Teddy let out a gasp as she sat up, finding an IV in her hand as she spotted you curled up in the chair, sleeping with Allison in your arms.
Owen was sat on the floor in the doorway, asleep too.
You woke up, feeling lips on your forehead and Allison drooling on your shoulder.
"Urf, what- Teddy! Ally, mommy's awake!" You cooed, carefully sitting up as Allison stirred, reaching for Teddy.
Owen snapped awake at your voice, smiling at the scene of you and Teddy fawning over Allison, freezing as you looked up, gesturing for him to get his ass over to his best friend too.
///
Tags: @nnightskiess @emskisworld @multifandomlesbianic @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived @inquisitive-nix @fire-and-blood-targaryen @unexpected-character
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flyonthewallmedstudent · 4 years ago
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Watching House as a Physician.  Season 2 Episode 3. Infectious diseases & Respiratory.
Welcome to another episode of medicine done badly.  I’ve been watching House on Amazon prime.  Got the subscription during the pandemic, as like everyone else, I’ve garnered an online shopping habit now. 
Alright. In the opening scene a young roof worker falls off the roof presumably due to acute shortness of breath. i.e. trouble breathing. (why do we use the term shortness of breath? it’s the english version of the greek term dyspnoea - the actual preferred language of Western doctors. Fuck do I know why we like Greek and Latin so much. Moving on.) Then cut to Dr. Cuddy examining him in the back of the ambulance. 
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This would never happen in real life. Yes you can be on the scene and handover to the paramedics or EMT when they arrive as a doctor. But they would take over. I personally wouldn’t have the balls to look after a patient in a different environment, different resources and field I’m not familiar with. You can have field Emergency docs - but requires different training. 
Also, ethically, you’re not meant to treat family or friends. Dr. Cuddy later in the episode gets a bit emotionally involved - this is why we don’t treat people close to us. We lose objectivity. We make mistakes. And you see later see Cuddy do some pretty bad ones. 
I feel like much of this episode is not really IM. THere’s less differential diagnoses being made. More side tracks into trauma, emergency, intensive care or vascular surgery. 
Anyhoo. Trauma and emergency would manage the fall and post fall traumatic injuries. And the trauma protocol was either not shown or completely off in this episode. Surgeons don’t seem to exist in House, at least not very much. Similarly, no other doctors exist except surgeons in Grey’s anatomy.  Also you can’t clear a C Spine clinically, which is what Dr. Cuddy does in the back of the ambulance. You’d need a CT first and clearance both radiological (by a radiologist) and a clinician. 
Aaaanddd, you can’t just listen to the chest and go no pneumothorax (air in lung or collapsed lung) - yes it’s reassuring, but again you’d need imaging to confirm this, given how serious a condition this is. It is realistic to consider in the setting of a fall, particularly if there are rib fractures that can puncture the lung.
Once the more critical injuries are managed, we would look after the IM side to things. 
So. Finally.. differential diagnoses.
Takes what seems and feels like days before they finally sit down and go through differentials. Really not much on that white board. Dark fingers, broken ribs, fever and lung infiltrates. Time line’s not clear on when he developed the fever.
Presenting complaint isn’t really addressed. It could be: - Dyspnoea, leading to the fall, he’s requiring O2 via nasal prongs, which suggests that he’s hypoxic (this is definitely odd in a young guy who’s normally very physical fit if he works as labourer). so much to unpack here, but they never get into this well.  Post fall, Cuddy notices his ring and pinky finger becoming dusky, which becomes very central in this episode. Very few things would cause this. pains me that they do no differentials on a white board for this alone. 
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Then a lot of throwing around medical terms. 
PTT prolonged and Fibrinogen off. These are markers of your coagulation pathway and signs that you’re not forming the clots the way you should if you have an injury.  DIC is also thrown around. What is DIC? Disseminated intravascular coagulopathy. Certainly severe sepsis and trauma can cause this and lead to severe bleeding. It will throw off your coagulation pathways (things that stop bleeding). It’s not common. I’ve treated it once, while I was rotating in ICU, it is not standard ward medicine practice. Standard therapy is fresh frozen plasma (FFP) and even large metropolitan hospitals only have a limited supply. It’s a huge concern for surgery and post-op (as you patient will just not stop bleeding after you cut them open, and if not treated, potentially bleed to death). Cuddy mentions ARDS. Acute respiratory distress syndrome, it could be a complication, but it’s not a cause. Again, falls more into the realm of critical care (a la ICU). However, patient had SOB prior to the fall. Finally HOuse makes the observation. of “what if he was sick before he had his run in with gravity...” Everyone jumps to Pneumonia. And this is where it gets confusing.  If he was unwell, the minute he entered the emergency department with a fever and hypoxia, they would have worked him up for any garden variety pneumonia, bacterial or viral. Cultures would have been sent and imaging. Any young hypoxic patient would prompt a closer look at the chest. And no one waits that long to start antibiotics - “sepsis kills” is a slogan often used around hospitals. You have to initiate empirical therapy within 30 mins, to reduce mortality and morbiditiy. 
Ordering an Echocardiogram (USS of the Heart) also makes no sense in the context of a lung infection. I would order one, but not to look at the lungs.
Then there’s the most unrealistic thing about this series. Doctors breaking into patient homes.
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It is however, a good way to showcase social history. It’d be boring to watch a doctor ask the patient outright about their living situation etc, but it’s far more interesting to see exactly how they live. We try as much as possible to illustrate to each other and ourselves what the living environment and working environment of our patients are like. 
In the context of infection, a good social history can point out exposure. As they exemplify by showing dead rodents and mould. This leads to 2 further differentials: Rat bite fever (caused by streptobacillus, something you’d see in the US, but probably not anywhere else), it’s an unrealistic differential in general. And the 2nd is aspergillosis.  Okay..  So aspergillus is a mould commonly found in our environment. In fact it’s everywhere around us. 
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THere’s few times when it’s an issue.  It is a concern in respiratory syndromes like asthma or bronchiectasis. And also as an opportunistic infection in immunocompromised individuals. in the context of asthma, it’s not so much the aspergillus itself that causes issue, it’s our body’s over reaction. It’s a hypersensitivity issue that causes inflammation in the lungs or a pneumonitis. We even gave it a name. Allergic bronchopulmonary aspergillosis. It’s still badness, but it doesn’t happen that quickly. We also have specific tests for this, which were obviously not considered in this episode of medicine done badly. In the immunocompromised host (steroid therapy in transplant patients or those on chemo, etc.), you can get the invasive mould as an opportunistic infection.  I don’t really understand why they think it would be the case here. Also, killing the bug with heavy duty anti fungals will only give more issues rather than do anything. They start him on amphotericin. this is not standard practice.  And now it flips to why amphotericin is not standard practice or first line treatment for invasive aspergillosis. The patient has now become anuric (not making any urine). (First line drug by the way is voraconazole, superior efficacy in trials with a lower mortality rate and ADRs) Also, note that they have just jumped straight to dire renal failure from the amphotericin. No work up. That said, heavy drugs like amphotericin are often a cause, but  It’s often temporary with the appropriate supportive measures (stop insulting agents, give hydration, monitor fluid balance), reversible, even if you require temporary dialysis or haemofiltration. Anyways, would get into AKI another day, that’s a whole other post in and of itself.  Then his hand is apparently “dying.” There’s pain on light touch, but it’s not a cold, pulseless limb. Or discoloured. doesn’t add up. This now enters vascular surgeon territory. Again. It’s interesting that there’s never any referrals to any other teams. If he has good circulation, I would imagine they would try to save the hand and consider other differentials. 
The only time I can think of an emergency amputation in this situation is necrotising fascitiis. That’s the only thing that would occur that rapidly  AND necessitate losing tissue or limb.  With a young person who’s this ill, there’s often multiple subspecialties involved by this point. I’m also surprised he’s not in ICU.
Then there’s a buncha filler scenes of the cast of house getting emotional. Ho my god, they’ve taken the hand of a young 20 something physical labourer. Indeed, this is badness. Unlike House, we actually are trained to always consider how a patient’s illness impacts their activities of daily living and livelihood. 
I find the general population assumes that we practice medicine in a vacuum, we merely treat the clinical illness and ignore everything else. They imagine that we all must be like house. 
Actually we try to put things in perspective as much as possible and knowing our limitations in this area, we often enlist the help of friends - physiotherapists, occupational therapists and social workers. They never exist on TV or on the movies. Ever. Unless it’s to portray how terrible it is to be a social worker.  From time to time in this episode, Cuddy laments that being chief of medicine is too administrative and she hasn’t been a doctor in years. That also doesn’t happen in real life. If you’re chief you’re still a doctor. You have admin shit to do deal with yes, but you still practice. It’s like being chief resident, in all the TV shows with one of these, you still seem them working as residents, be it scrubs or grey’s anatomy. 
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Back to the differential. They finally get to endocarditis. Culture negative to be precise. That indeed would explain the bilateral dusky fingers that led to unnecessary amputation. Septic emboli. 
Going to stop here, more out of exhaustion now. I’ve created quite a lengthy post. Happy to reblog thoughts on culture negative endocarditis on request later. This is a worthy topic to study up on for students or residents. At least review Duke’s criteria and think about your clinical features like Roth Spots and Janeway lesions or Ouch Osler’s nodes. 
The ending is also a far fetched connection to make, but is one that we would consider. In fact, we would ask in detail every time from day one - have you had any exposure to animals. It’s very rare to see someone so young be that sick out of the blue when you’re immunocompetent and have no underlying predisposing conditions. If there’s no focal source, then we would even ask about injectable recreational drugs, exotic travels, sexual health. 
Most of the time, patients that sick are honest to their doctors. 
But what about..
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Frankly, much as we lie as humans, when our lives our on the line, we’re generally pretty honest (sometimes too honest) with the people we want to save us. 
Any patient who is young and comes to hospital requiring inpatient admission, they’d be investigated by subspecialties with expertise in certain areas such as infectious disease. The dept of infectious disease would either be home team, or all over this patient as they special in the realm of both common and rare infectious diseases, culture negative endocarditis would have been considered before a hand amputation.
The term, “department of diagnostic medicine is laughable,” particularly when they consider it the only department in the world in the show. 
In actuality, it’s a department that is universal and exists everywhere. it’s Internal medicine. Dr. Vivek Murthy, the next surgeon general (and also the last one under Obama) is an internal medicine physician. Ken Jeong of Community and the Hangover fame is also a physician of internal medicine. 
Beginning to get the sense that most episodes are going to end with a diagnosis that is either infectious disease, rheumatology or haematology. But generally those tend to be most interesting and give the most plot twists or meaty differentials V.s. a stroke or acute myocardial infarction is fairly straightforward to diagnose. 
This is a very twisty episode in all the wrong directions. 
Dyspnoea is a very common presenting complaint. There’s a properly done approach to this in the podcast by the Curbsiders by the way. 
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i-choose-the-danger · 5 years ago
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The Ticklish Predicament of Mr. Sherlock Holmes
Seeing as today is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s birthday, it feels fitting that I should have finished writing this fic today. I’m sure this global pandemic has prompted many of you to read and write quarantine fics. (and if you’ve found any good ones, sharing is caring so send them my way -_^) I imagine that quarantine in 221B would be quite interesting to say the least. I wanted to write some quick fluff, so here’s my contribution. I hope y’all enjoy it, and please stay safe wherever you are. <3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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“Sherlock,” John grumbled with a sigh. He took another slow sip of his tea as he shook out the newspaper in his other hand. “We’ve been over this a thousand times.” 
“Ridiculous,” Sherlock scoffed. He glanced over at his flatmate from the desk. “Don’t exaggerate, John. It doesn’t suit you.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but firmly pressed his lips back together and turned his gaze back to his laptop screen as his fingers resumed their tapping on the keyboard.
“Go ahead then.” John put down both his tea and the paper. He inhaled sharply with his eyes on Sherlock, settling deeper into his chair. “Say it.” He crossed his arms and waited. 
“Say what?” Sherlock’s brows were raised in mock innocence. He knew that the action would irritate John. He didn’t dare make eye contact, but he could picture the look of disgust on John’s face. 
“You know exactly how many times, don’t you?” John knew he’d get an answer whether or not he asked. 
“Thirteen,” was the quiet reply.
“Thirteen… Thirteen bloody times and not a single one of them has gotten through to you!”
“Why are we even discussing this? Once you leave, there’s nothing stopping me from going out that door.” Sherlock caught sight of John’s sudden smirk and it unnerved him. “What?”
“Try it and see what happens.” John glanced to the window closest to him and then back at the detective, who quickly pushed himself from the desk. As Sherlock stomped toward the window, John smiled to himself and waited for what he expected to be quite a tantrum.
“Is that one of Mycroft’s or Lestrade’s?” Sherlock asked through gritted teeth, clutching the curtain in a tight fist and eying a car parked in front of the building.
“You might want to check again, mate.” John smiled a little wider and took another sip of his tea.
“BOTH!?” Sherlock was livid. He never would have missed such easy details on a normal day. His chest suddenly felt heavy. His feet dragged as he paced around the flat.
“And you’ll find another two out back in case you think about sneaking away through Mrs. Hudson’s garden again.” John had relocated to the kitchen. He looked over his shoulder towards the windows. “She’s still furious about the roses you trampled last time, by the way.”
“Oh please, they weren’t exactly thriving. I did her a favor by putting them out of their misery.” The detective clutched his robe and shook it out, as if doing so would alleviate the tightness in his chest. He crossed the room to the coffee table, stepping onto it and then over it to twist himself backwards and collapse across the couch. “I didn’t notice both cars out front. It’s happening, don’t you see?!” He angrily raked both hands through his curls on either side of his head and groaned.
“I see that you’re being ever the dramatic.” He rolled his eyes at Sherlock’s growl. “I could barely get you to leave the flat to go pick up milk without having you throw some sort of tantrum before this, but all of a sudden now you need to go out there in this mess?”
“Damn it, John! I NEED A CASE!” Sherlock screamed, ringing clawed hands. He sat up and pressed his hands together in a praying formation, setting his chin on outstretched thumbs. Resting his index fingers against his nose, he tried to speak more calmly. “I haven’t left the flat in weeks. I haven’t gone on cases. I can’t have experiments brought here. I am bored, John. My brain is starting to rot. I’m slipping.”
“Oh for heaven’s… Sherlock, you haven’t slept in three days. Legally, I could declare you off your nut. If you want to keep it from rotting, go to sleep. Your brain needs rest.” John stood in front of Sherlock and stared down at him with his arms folded. “Look at you. You’ve been moping around like a zombie all week.”
“My brain doesn’t need to rest. It’s been resting since this quarantine started.” Sherlock jumped up from the couch and sidestepped the coffee table to shuffle back to the desk and resume scrolling for cases at his laptop. “It needs work, John. You can deem yourself essential and-”
“I’m a bloody doctor! Of course I’m essential,” John cut in. “Lestrade is an officer of the law. He’s essential. I’m still not even sure what the hell your brother does, but if he’s essential he’s at least not going outside. He hasn’t even stopped by here since the stay-at-home order was set.”
“Thank God for small favors,” Sherlock muttered to himself.
“YOU are not considered an essential worker, so you-”
“How am I not?” Sherlock interjected. “Are there any other consulting detectives out there? Are there other ones that you write ridiculous little blogs about?” he asked, making furious typing motions above his keyboard with his hands. He paused for a rebuttal that didn’t come. “I didn’t think so.”
“Since everything is closed and everyone else is inside because they’re not as daft as you, there hasn’t been an overwhelming need for your expertise.” John moved to the kitchen to rinse his teacup. “That’s why Lestrade has been kind enough to send you some cases to look at until this is all over. He knows what you’re like when this happens. If need be, you can do work from here using your laptop, you stroppy little brat.” 
“Everything he gives me is useless!” Sherlock angrily swiped a finger across the trackpad of his laptop to emphasize the last word. “His people have an amazing talent for noticing everything at a crime scene save for anything of actual value.” 
“Yes, I know. No one else is burdened with a superior intellect like you.” John was quickly losing the last ounces of his patience. He knew that he needed to stay strong. If Sherlock saw so much as a crack in John’s mental armor, John would lose what little control over the man he had left. John busied himself putting away the last of the groceries he’d brought back to the flat, knowing Sherlock wouldn’t do it himself. “I do understand that this is stressful for you and it’s unlike anything we’ve had to deal with. I hate that I’m saying this, but at this point I’m willing to go get you some cigs if it’ll help.” 
“I don’t want patches. I don’t want to smoke. I don’t even want drugs. I. Need. A. CASE!” Sherlock buried his face in his hands and exhaled harshly through his fingers.
“I’ve tried to be nice.” John set a cereal box on a shelf so heavily that the sound echoed. “I tried to be patient.” He slammed the cabinet door shut, cringing when its contents rattled. “So help me, I will tie you to that chair and gag you if I have to. I’m sure Mrs. Hudson would appreciate the peace and quiet, not to mention fewer bullet holes in her wall.”
“Oh, please.” The detective snickered to himself. For all of its amusement, it was never wise to test the limits of John’s patience. It never ended well for Sherlock, but he was too exhausted at the moment to notice just how far he’d gone. “I’d like to see you try,” he muttered under his breath, still clacking away at the laptop keys.
“You know what? That does it.” John stood in the kitchen doorway, pointing a finger at the other man. “If you want to act like a toddler, then I’ll treat you like one.”
“And do what?” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Send me off to my room without dinner? Take away my toys? You most certainly aren’t going to spank me.”
“Oh you really have cracked. You need a nap and if you won’t take one on your own then I’ll just have to tire you out like I do with Rosie.”
“I do not need a nap.” Sherlock continue to scroll through his email until John’s words finally registered in his head. His eyes momentarily widened and he slowly reached for the top of his Macbook to close it without making any sudden movements that would trigger John to react. “It’s nearly 11:30 already. You wouldn’t want to be late for work.” Sherlock calmly stood from the table and eyed the hallway leading to his bedroom. He knew exactly what John was threatening and that he wouldn’t be able to defend himself if he let John get near him.
“See what I mean? You’re so overtired that you can’t even keep track of what day it is. I’m not working today. I told you that I’d stay here today -at the risk of my sanity, mind you- to try to make your day a little less stressful.”
“You told me you’d be staying on Friday.” The curious raise of John’s brows and tightening of his mouth made Sherlock stop and think. With a groan, he raked a hand through his curls. “Christ, it is Friday, isn’t it?”
“Would you care to listen to your doctor now and sleep? I don’t care if you sleep in your bed, on the couch, on the floor, or curled up in your chair like a bloody house cat. Just sleep.” 
“Not tired,” Sherlock grumbled without thinking. 
“Suit yourself, mate.” John took a step toward Sherlock.
And that was the moment that everything went wrong. Sherlock bolted towards his room. He knew that he could outrun John. And he would have, had John not been able to grab a fistful of the back of his dressing gown as he ran by. Sherlock let out a yelp, one which he would deny until he exhaled his last breath. He shot his arms back behind himself and shuffled off the restricting garment before John could get any closer. A few more steps down the hall and Sherlock made it safely to his room, or so he thought. As he spun around to slam his bedroom door closed, his face was only a few inches from John’s. He stepped back to push the door closed, but struggled as his flatmate held the door open from the other side.
“Get off my door! Leave me alone!” Sherlock grunted through his teeth.
“You had plenty of opportunities to not be a dick. You brought this on yourself.” Knowing that Sherlock was too tired to have the strength to hold the door, John gave it one hard push with his good shoulder and knocked the other man off balance enough to fully open it.
“John, this isn’t funny.” Sherlock nervously backed around his bed with his hands held out in defense. 
“That’s alright.” John stalked slowly, a satisfied smile playing at his lips. “You’ll be laughing soon enough.”
“No, I won’t. Whatever you’re thinking won’t work.” Sherlock’s heart was pounding and it annoyed him. John hadn’t even gotten near him and he could already feel his mouth ticking into a smile as a nervous laugh started to form in his chest. 
“Oh really? You always know exactly what I’m gonna do, and you wouldn’t be so panicked unless you knew it would work.” John stepped closer to Sherlock, eying him as prey.
Sherlock glanced back and forth between John and his bedroom door. If he could leap onto his bed with enough force to catapult himself towards the door without losing momentum, it might be possible for him to escape into the hallway. He was so tired that his brain couldn’t process any further plan of action after that. This frustrated the hell out of him. Sherlock didn’t want to acknowledge it, even just in his own mind, but he knew John was physically stronger than he was and that he’d be in serious trouble once John got his hands on him. 
Sherlock made a perfect jump onto his bed despite how tired he was, but failed to calculate in how far John could reach from his position at the foot of the bed despite his short stature. Sherlock felt a hand grip his ankle, yanking his leg backward and causing him to faceplant into his mattress with a very annoyed, “OOF!” He was immediately dragged backward to the center of his bed, his hands haphazardly clawing at his blankets. As hard as he kicked and twisted his leg, he couldn’t get free. The mattress dipped behind him. The realization that his soon-to-be attacker had now climbed onto the bed sent Sherlock into a mild panic. “No!” Sherlock cleared his throat and attempted to sound calm. “I mean no, John. Stop it. You’ve made your point.” If Sherlock hated anything more than not being in control of his own body, it was losing that control in front of others, especially John. 
“If I had, then you would have gone to bed hours ago instead of argue.” John knelt one leg over the backs of both of Sherlock’s upper legs, effectively pinning him face-down. “Besides, this’ll help us both.”
“What?! How?!” Sherlock tried to reach out behind himself to grab onto John, but the doctor was smarter than he gave him credit for and had learned how to keep himself just out of reach. “Assaulting me won’t help either of us.”
“You’ll finally allow yourself to sleep, and I’ll get some peace and quiet.” John reached out a hand and gently scratched and spidered fingers on Sherlock’s back, in between the shoulder blades. A muffled squeak left the detective’s lips as his shoulder blades shook and knitted together. “Any last words?” John asked, amusement in his voice.
“Shit…” Sherlock immediately scrambled to crawl off the bed. His body seized as a pair of hands gripped his upper ribs. His energy was nearly nonexistent and he didn’t have enough strength to free himself. “Get off! Getoffgetoffgetoff!” Sherlock barked, his voice sounding slightly higher than normal. He was far too stubborn to give John the satisfaction of hearing him laugh. His arms had been clutched to his sides to protect them from John’s attack, but they left his neck unprotected. At the same time, Sherlock felt a set of fingers flutter at one side of his neck while another set scratched right where his neck met his shoulder on the other side. It would later be heavily debated whether or not the stoic detective let out a squeal. Sherlock immediately scrunched his shoulders. His hands reflexively flew up to his neck to swat his best friend’s fingers away… exactly as John planned. 
“Some people never learn.” John’s hands shot into the hollows under Sherlock’s arms and his fingers started to scratch, causing their victim to react instantly. Sherlock slammed his arms back down at his sides and screamed, his body jolting as if he’d just been electrocuted. “And what was your plan here? I mean if my hands are trapped here, I guess they’ll just have to wiggle around until they’re free.” John’s fingers scratched quicker and harder until their captor released them, allowing them to resume their attack freely elsewhere.
“Quihihihit it!” The only thing Sherlock could do was try to preserve what was left of his dignity by burying his face in his palms while ten fingers danced their way in between each of his rib bones down to his stomach. “John! Stohohohop. This is childihihihish-sh-sh-sh.” Quiet tired giggles sounded from behind his hands. 
“Aww, you poor lamb. I think someone’s getting sleepy.”
“Piss off!” Sherlock clutched one of his pillows and repeatedly tried to swat John hard enough to get him to let go. Unfortunately, his lack of energy and focus made his aim completely abysmal. John was able to duck away from every swing. Sherlock’s pajamas had become terribly twisted around his waist and his tee shirt had ridden halfway up his torso. Without thinking, Sherlock shifted his body so that he was lying on his back in an attempt to set his clothing right. He instantly regretted his actions as John straddled across his lap. “Jesus, no no no! John, please! I cahahahan’t.” Sherlock’s hands instinctively tried to grab onto John’s wrists. Staying awake for three days straight and barely eating had completely impaired his coordination and allowed John to easily avoid being caught.
“You should have thought about that before being an annoying little shit.” John switched tactics and decided to randomly attack different places. He would wiggle his fingers in between each rib. He would all of a sudden shoot both hands under Sherlock’s arms. He would poke around Sherlock’s stomach. John would never stay on one spot for more than a few seconds at a time.
“Aaahhahaha! You sadihihihist!” Sherlock’s eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that he could see colors. He tried desperately to launch himself into his mind palace, and might have succeeded had John not found his death spot. The instant fingers had scrunched into his hip bones, Sherlock’s mind palace crumbled to bits. He shrieked. “Johnjohnjohnnononoohmygohohohohod!” he sputtered. With every scratch and poke into his hips, Sherlock’s words became less coherent, turning into nothing more than jumbled hysterical laughter. He bucked and arched his back with such force that John had to move beside him to prevent himself from being hurled right off the bed. 
“You know, I think I’ll just have to keep right on this spot.” John knew that Sherlock couldn’t handle much more. He couldn’t help laughing at his victim’s reactions. He’d never heard Sherlock laugh so freely. His sleepy giggles were almost childlike and John loved every second of them.
“Christ, pleaheheHEESE!” John had thankfully moved his hands away from Sherlock’s hips, but unfortunately chose to poke and taser his abdomen instead. Sherlock rolled onto his side and buried his face into the blanket that had bunched up during his struggling. It was the only thing he could think to muffle the embarrassing giggles and squeals coming out of him. His pride didn’t want him to give in to John, but his body was begging for peace now that his nervous system was severely overstimulated. Sherlock weakly slapped his hand down on the mattress a few times before his arm went completely limp. “I s-s-surrender.” His voice was hoarse. He was so tired that his lisp had become more prominent than he’d been comfortable with and he couldn’t control it. His assailant’s hands were still clawing at his sides. “Johohohon! Jaaawn.” Sherlock didn’t even have enough energy to laugh anymore, even though his body was still shaking and his cheeks were still scrunched from smiling.
“Have we learned our lesson, then?” John stilled his hands and leaned over, waiting for an answer. When he heard no response, he called out again. “Sherlock?” He lifted the blanket off of Sherlock’s face. “Are you not speaking to… oh.” John looked over Sherlock’s shoulder to see his cheek scrunched against the pillow, a tangle of dark matted curls over his eyes, and he heard a gentle snore coming from his slightly open mouth. “Works every time,” John laughed to himself, climbing off the bed and grabbing the blanket. He shook the covering and fanned it out so that it came down over Sherlock. Tucking it around the sleeping detective’s shoulder, he smiled. “Good night, you daft brat.”
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leigh-kelly · 6 years ago
Text
A continuation of NYU!AU
Santana is nervous about her doctor’s appointment, but she really tries to not get all worked up. Both she and Brittany have class the morning before she has to go so they say goodbye on the street and Santana tries to focus her energy on the discussion of Moby Dick. It feels like the class goes really long and she’s glad that she and Brittany are meeting for lunch before the appointment because she’s starving. She gets to the falafel place and Brittany is already there, saving a place at the window counter for the two of them.
“Hey babes.” Brittany grins. “How was class?”
“It wasn’t bad, how about you?”
“Really good, we’re working on this new theorem so it was exciting.”
“I love that you get excited about math.”
“Duh because math is exciting, obviously.”
Brittany gets up from the table to order their falafel and even though Santana tries to argue about paying, Brittany insists. They’re quiet while they eat their lunch and Brittany just takes Santana’s hand, knowing that she’s nervous. When they’re done, they get on the subway to go to the doctor’s office and even though Santana hates PDA, she leans her head on Brittany’s shoulder, just wanting to feel close to her.
“It’s going to be fine, I promise.” Brittany murmurs, squeezing Santana’s hand.
“I know, I just really hate going to the doctor.”
“I’m gonna be right in the waiting room and then we’ll just go home and chill.”
“I really appreciate you coming, I didn’t want to go alone.”
“I know, and I totally wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
They get to the doctor’s office and Santana is fidgety in the waiting room. She keeps picking up the magazines and putting them back down, getting up and pacing around, going into the bathroom to wash her hands. When the doctor calls her in, Brittany gives her a wink and Santana goes into the exam room. She hates changing into the paper dress and being all exposed, but she does it when Dr. Sedgwick gives her privacy.
“So, Miss Lopez, what’s going on?” Dr. Sedgwick asks her after the nurse does her height and weight and blood pressure. “Is this just a regular annual visit?”
“I mean, I need all of that regular stuff too, but I mostly came here because my mom and my girlfriend are really concerned about my periods.” Santana purses her lips, so uncomfortable talking about this.
“Are they heavy? Painful?”
“Yes to both. It was so bad this month that I missed class. I never miss class.”
“Okay, why don’t we do a sonogram and check everything out?” Dr. Sedgwick adjusts her glasses and Santana nods.
Santana is so unbelievably uncomfortable the whole time she’s on the examination table and if it wouldn’t be so embarrassing for Brittany to see her getting a pelvic exam, she would have wished she was in the room. She keeps asking her all kinds of questions about what her body feels like and it makes her feel weird to talk about. When the doctor is finally finished, she tells Santana to meet her in her office so they can talk and Santana feels like she’s going to throw up. What if something is really wrong? What if she’s dying? How would she break the news to Brittany and her parents? She obsessed over it the whole time she’s getting dressed and then she drags her feet as she walks down the long hallway into the fancy office.
“So, your sonograms came up totally clear.” Dr. Sedgwick tells her and Santana feels like she’s taking her first breath in ten minutes.
“That’s good, right?”
“It is good, it rules out a few things, but I’m actually worried you might have endometriosis. That’s where you have endometrial tissue growing outside of your uterus.”
“That’s, um, really gross. But wouldn’t you be able to see it on the sonogram?”
“It doesn’t actually show up on a sonogram, the way we diagnose it is the same way we remove it, by doing a minor laparoscopic surgery.”
“I have to have surgery?” Santana’s eyes widen, thinking how it feels like she just had her appendix out.
“That’s up to you. I’d like to start you on some birth control and then you should take some time to think it over and if you want to go ahead with it, we can schedule a surgery. I promise you though, it will make your periods much less intense. But the thing is, it’s not a cure, the tissue will grow back.”
Santana is a little stunned but she manages to ask the doctor a whole bunch of questions about the procedure. Mainly, she’s worried about missing class, but when Dr. Sedgwick says the recovery isn’t long, she feels a little better. But she wants to talk to her mom, she wants to talk to Brittany. She doesn’t think her mom will even be able to take off work to come out here and she can’t just expect that Brittany take care of her all the time. But she has time, she tells Dr. Sedgwick that she’ll let her know in a few days and she walks out with a prescription and a whole stack of pamphlets to Brittany who is obviously pretending to read a magazine.
“Babes.” She smiles when she sees her. “How’d it go?”
“Not bad, there’s some stuff I want to talk to you about, but we can do it when we get home.”
“You’re okay though?”
“I’m okay.”
The whole way home, Santana is fidgety but quiet. She’d put the papers from the doctor in her backpack so she didn’t have strangers knowing her business but she knows Brittany is anxious to find out what’s going on. She would be too if she were in the reverse position and she’s kind of glad for both of them when they get back to their dorm. Santana takes the pamphlets out of her backpack and sits cross legged on the bed, beckoning Brittany to join her.
“So the doctor thinks I have something called endometriosis.” Santana says quietly, flipping over one of the pamphlets. “And she said the only way they can find out for sure and the only way to treat it is if I have surgery.”
“Babes.” Brittany leans right over and hugs her, making Santana feel really safe and loved. “When do you have to have it?”
“I wanted to talk to you and my mom first to see what you thought and stuff. And I also want to use Dr. Internet to kind of see what other people have to say. I’m sure there’s a tumblr tag too.”
“I don’t know if tumblr’s the best place for you to get medical advice.” Brittany furrows her brow.
“Oh, no, I totally know, I just mean to see what other people are saying about it. I’m kind of freaked out.”
“I’m kind of freaked out too. I don’t want you to have to have surgery again.”
“I just...I don’t know, Britt. My periods are so bad that I’d do anything to fix it. Normal people don’t stay in bed for a week.”
“You’re obviously still normal, but I get what you’re saying. And it’s your body, I support you if you’re going to do it and I support you if you decide not to. If you do have it, I’ll make you a nice cozy bed nest and take care of you while you recover.”
“You will? Really?”
“Obviously, Santana. What are you gonna do? Stay in a hotel with your mom while you recover?”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet, I need to talk to her and see what she thinks. I just don’t know if she’ll be able to come to New York.” Santana sighs.
“I can take you to the hospital and get you home, it’s not just the recovery stuff I’ll be good at.”
“You’re sure? I feel like it’s a lot to ask...”
“You’re not asking, I’m telling you I’ll do it. And I’ll help you when you’re trying to make the decision too, I’m here for you.”
Talking with Brittany like this makes Santana feel really grown up and it’s a little bit too much to take. She has kind of a headache from all the information she got and she just wants to lay down for a little while. She figures she can call her mom later and talk, but when she lays down, she ends up on her phone googling stuff and all the information out there makes her head hurt more. She just doesn’t want to suffer every month anymore and if this will help, she figures she should do it. Finally, she falls asleep while Brittany’s at her desk working on some homework and when she wakes up, she realizes that Brittany has pulled down all the shades and turned off all the lights to make her more comfortable.
“Brittany?” She rolls over in bed and realizes she’s not in the room. Maybe she went to the library, or went to get something to eat, she thinks and grabs her phone again, figuring she should use the time alone to call her mom.
Once she gets on the phone, she spends an hour talking to her. It’s really good to have someone like her mom who’s a real adult and can think totally rationally. After going through everything three times, Santana makes the decision. She’s just going to do it and hope they actually find something and it wasn’t all for nothing. Her mom says she’ll try to get the time off of work, but Santana tells her it’s okay, that Brittany is really good at taking care of her and she’ll be here. She thinks it makes her mom feel better because sometimes it’s hard being so far away. She tells her mom she loves her and then calls the doctor.
They can do the surgery in a week and a half. That’s really, really scary to Santana, but she thinks it’ll be for the best. She really just wants to hug Brittany and feel warm and protected so when she hangs up with Dr. Sedgwick, she texts her girlfriend to see where she is. Brittany tells her that she’s at the library, that she wanted to give Santana some space and some quiet and Santana appreciates it more than she even knows how to say. She gets out of bed and she splashes water on her face and just as she’s finishing up in the bathroom, Brittany walks in the door.
“It’s alive.” Brittany teases and Santana just wraps her arms around her, loving the way Brittany hugs her back. “I picked up your birth control for you, I figured I may as well since I was out.”
“I never thought as a cislesbian birth control would be something I had to think about.” Santana tries to joke. “I love you. Thank you.”
“I love you too. Did you talk to your mom?”
“I did. I’m going to do it.”
“Okay.” Brittany nods. “I’ll email my professors and stuff to let them know, when?”
“The nineteenth. Dr. Sedgwick promises I’ll be totally back to normal by finals. You’re really sure you’re okay missing class the day of the surgery? I don’t want you to get behind because of me.”
“I’m fine, seriously. I figure you’ll probably sleep a lot after so I can go to class the rest of the week. But if you text me, I’ll come home right away.”
“I know I just told you I love you, but really, I’m so in love with you I don’t even know how to explain it. When I first fell in love with you it was like, I don’t know, college love, but now I feel all this big adult kind of love, like...I don’t know, it’s stupid.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid.” Brittany smiles and kisses Santana’s forehead. “I get it. I feel that way when I talk to you about my eating stuff.”
“I’m scared, Britt. When I had my appendix out, I was in blinding pain so I didn’t even think about it. Now I have a week and a half to think about all the things that could go wrong.”
“I’m going to try to keep you distracted from it, okay?”
“Please.”
True to her word, Brittany tries to keep things as light as possible for Santana over the next week and a half. The night after her pre-surgical appointment with Dr. Sedgwick, Santana cries, just totally freaked out about it and realizing that maybe she really wishes her mom could come but Brittany is there calming her down, holding her, making her laugh. Santana knows it’s a totally minor surgery and she shouldn’t be freaking out but it’s her uterus and she thinks she wants to have kids one day and what if something goes wrong?
Finally, the morning comes and Santana wakes up with a bad headache. She hasn’t eaten in twenty-four hours and she had to drink this nasty stuff to completely clean out her system. In the early morning light, she and Brittany get dressed. Santana wears loose fitting sweatpants and Brittany’s NYU sweatshirt and they take a cab uptown to the hospital. Knowing she was having surgery, her dad had sent her some extra money for cabs and food and whatever else she needed and had offered to come to New York if she wanted him there. But she felt weird about her dad being around for something like this so she told him it was okay, that she and Brittany had it under control.
“I’m just going to call my mom real quick. I know she’s freaking out.”
“Yeah, totally. She texted me three times.”
”Mija.” Maribel answers the phone. “Have you gotten to the hospital yet?”
“We’re almost there, I just wanted to call and check in.”
“I should have come. This is too important for me to not be with you.”
“Mami, it’s okay. Brittany’s here and there’s nothing you could really do. All you’d be doing is spending money on a flight and a hotel room to watch me sleep.”
“You’re so grown now, mi amor. You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m okay, I just have a bad headache from not eating. But Brittany will call you as soon as I’m done, okay?”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Santana hangs up the phone just as the cab is pulling up in front of the hospital. She takes a deep breath and Brittany squeezes her hand. They get inside and she knows that Brittany has to go to the waiting room while she goes in and since she filled out all the paperwork at her pre-op visit, it’s time. She told Brittany’s hand a little tighter and Brittany turns to face her.
“I know you hate this, but can I please kiss you before you go in?” Brittany asks.
“Yeah.” Santana’s cheeks warm. “Okay.”
“I love you.” Brittany murmurs against her lips. “You’re going to be fine and then I’m going to take you home and buy you ice cream.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“I love you too, Britt. So much.”
Letting go of Brittany’s hand, Santana lets the woman at the desk know who she is and in just a few seconds a nurse is escorting her to the back. She gives her a duffle bag to put her clothes and shoes in and then leaves her to dress in a surgical gown. It’s cold in the room and Santana shivers as she undresses but the sooner she’s in this gown, the sooner it can be over with.
Santana doesn’t remember much about before the surgery. Once she’s ushered into the operating room, Dr. Sedgwick is there and the anesthesiologist put Santana out. Before she knows it, she’s waking up in recovery and a nurse is checking her vitals. She really wants to see Brittany, but she knows there’s all kinds of rules about who can come into the recovery room. Dr. Sedgwick had promised her though that she’d tell Brittany when her surgery was over so she knows that her girlfriend is it in waiting room feeling relieved. For Santana’s part, she feels sore everywhere and her shoulder aches with that same pain she remembers from after her appendectomy.
Once she does everything the nurses tell her she has to do and she sees Dr. Sedgwick again who tells her that it was definitely endometriosis and she removed a lot of it, Santana feels like the surgery was for something. It takes her awhile, but she dresses slowly and the nurse escorts her out to the waiting room where Brittany is frantically tapping on her phone. Almost like she feels Santana’s presence in the room, she looks up and a slow smile spreads across her face. Santana can tell she wants to engulf her in a hug, but instead, she settles for taking the nurse’s place helping Santana stay on her feet.
“How are you feeling, babes?”
“Pretty weak. And like everything hurts.” Santana croaks, her throat sore from the tube down her throat when she’d been under anesthesia. “I just want to be in bed.”
“Then I’ll get you there.”
They get in a cab and Santana lays her head in Brittany’s shoulder. She hadn’t been lying when she said she felt weak, the morphine is still coursing through her and she’s glad she picked up her pain killer prescription yesterday because she knows she’s going to be hurting when it wears off. They get back to their dorm and Brittany waves her ID card to take her through the handicap entrance so her abdomen doesn’t have to hit the turnstile to get in. She’s totally leaning on her and even in her medicated state she still feels like she loves her more than ever.
Once they’re up in the room, Brittany gets her under the covers in bed and then fills up her water bottle to place at the bedside. Promptly, Santana falls asleep and she feels like she sleeps for a million years before she wakes up in excruciating pain. She wants to scream but she also knows that she lives in a dorm full of people and she can’t just do that. Instead, she starts to cry and before she can even process how she feels, Brittany is at her bedside.
“Babes, what’s wrong?”
“It hurts.”
“Do you want me to bring you a painkiller? What can I do?”
“Painkiller is good. And water. I’m so thirsty.”
“Your water bottle is right here.” Brittany hands it to her and Santana takes big gulps. “I’ll be right back with a painkiller.”
Santana swallows down the pill as soon as Brittany brings it and then Brittany refills the water bottle and sits on the edge of the bed running her fingers through Santana’s hair. It feels really nice and she finally stops crying. She doesn’t know why this feels so much worse than it did after her appendectomy but it does and she hates hit. Brittany is such a good girlfriend though, she can’t imagine doing this without her and she reaches out and takes her hand.
“This is so over and above good girlfriend status.”
“Oh please.” Brittany rolls her eyes a little. “You’d totally do the same thing for me.”
“You know I’m gonna marry you someday, right?” It might be the after effects of the morphine talking but Santana means it with all her heart.
“You are?”
“Uh huh. I know you’re my first girlfriend but all that means is that I got it right on the first try. As soon as I get a real job, I’m gonna buy you a big fat diamond.”
“And what if I want to buy you the diamond?” Brittany smiles and kisses Santana’s forehead.
“You’ll have to race me to it.”
“Maybe I will, maybe I want to propose to you as soon as we graduate so I know we’ll always be together even if things get hard with you working on your PhD and us living in a new city.”
“We’re always gonna be together even if we’re not married. You mean too much to me to let you go. Every time you take care of me it just reminds me extra how lucky I am.”
“You know you take care of me too, right? When you slip snacks into my backpack or bring me something home for dinner because you know I’ve been shut up all day working on math. It shows me that you see me.”
“I just don’t want you to ever be in danger. Me having surgery was scary, but you slipping back into a disease is even scarier to me. Have you eaten today?”
“I had breakfast while you were in surgery and I made macaroni and cheese while you were sleeping. I’m going to order something for dinner soon, but I wanted to see if you felt up to eating before I did.”
“I think I just want grilled cheese and a soup. I’m afraid this medication is going to bother my stomach and the idea of throwing up is not fun.” Santana sighs and tries to sit up but realizes it’s too painful. “Use my card, the money my dad gave me is supposed to be for meals while I’m recovering and I want to treat my nurse.”
“I should have gotten a sexy costume.”
“I think you’re sexy as you are...even though I won’t be up to sex for awhile.”
“How about cuddling?”
“After we eat, I’d really like it if you’d hold me.” Santana nods.
“You’re sure it won’t hurt you? I didn’t mean it had to be today.”
“You’re always gentle with me, I know I’ll be okay in your arms.”
Brittany orders a burger for herself and Santana’s soup and sandwich and Santana is sort of in and out of sleep while they wait for the food to come. The painkiller helps but it also just makes her really tired and she feels like something is pressing down on her body under the influence of it. She appreciates that Brittany doesn’t try to get her up when the food comes, she just lets her sleep for a bit and then reheats it when she wakes up. Santana is a little shaky with the spoon, but she is insistent upon proving that Brittany doesn’t actually need to feed her and instead makes use of her lap desk so she doesn’t spill all over the bed.
“My throat still really burns.” Santana tells Brittany, wincing as she swallows her soup.
“Do you want me to get you some ice cream or Italian ices or something?”
“I don’t want to make you do that.”
“You’re not making me do anything, I promised you I’d take care of you and if that means running downstairs to the deli, I’m on it. Seriously, I’m going, ices or ice cream?”
“I think ices might be better. Ugh I don’t know I just feel so awful all over.”
“I’m going to get both, then you can choose when you feel like eating them. I’ll be back in five minutes. Do you want anything else?”
“I don’t think so. Seriously, thank you.”
“I love you.” Brittany kisses her dry lips. “So much.”
Once Brittany leaves, Santana puts her soup on the desk beside the bed and takes out her phone. In the week and a half between her doctor’s appointment and the surgery, she’d been meaning to make a tumblr post because there was so little there about endometriosis that she kind of wanted to share her experience but she didn’t know what to say. Since eating is hard until the soup cools, she figures now is the time and she just wants to write <I>something.</I>
Hey guys, just a little life update. I had a minor surgery today, as it turns out, the bad periods I’ve talked about before were a symptom of endometriosis. My doctor removed a bunch of it today and I’m recovering. I never really thought much about how periods like I was having weren’t normal until I got a girlfriend who didn’t suffer in bed for a week a month. Luckily, after my last period where I actually skipped class, Britt convinced me to see a doctor. It all happened really fast and in the eleven days between the time I saw my doctor and when the surgery happened today, I spent most of my time getting ahead on my school work so I could just relax this week while I recover. I’m definitely a little high on pain medication right now and Britt is taking care of me, but if anyone wants to talk about their experiences with this, feel free to send me an ask.
Almost immediately, Santana’s inbox is flooded with asks wishing her well and she tries to answer as many as she can before she goes back to her bowl of soup. She just starts eating again when Brittany comes into the room with a bag of cherry ices and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s mint chocolate chip. She puts them in their little freezer and then sits down on the bed beside Santana, giving her a little smile.
“I know that I should get out of bed and walk around a little, but I really don’t want to.” Santana tells Brittany.
“You’re probably right, babes. It’ll be good for you.”
“My insides feel jumbled up.”
“Well she was digging around in there and scraping everything off. It makes sense.”
“I should also call my mom. She’s sent me so many texts.”
“I talked to her while you were sleeping before, I think it’s taking everything in her power to not get on a plane.”
“She works really hard, I don’t want her to be worried.”
“She’s your mom, she’s probably going to be worried about you until she sees you next month. But call her, if you don’t need me, I’m going to jump in the shower.”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Santana waves her off, then picks up her phone again and dials her mom’s number.
“Mija, hi. How are you feeling?”
“I’m eating dinner right now, Britt ordered me grilled cheese and soup.”
“I’ll put some extra money in your account, make sure you have what you need for any extra expenses.”
“Don’t worry, Mami, Papi already did. I just want you to not be up all night thinking I’m not okay.”
“I’m less worried than I thought I’d be, Brittany has been very good about keeping me informed. She said you’ve slept most of the day.”
“Yeah, I have. And I’m just about ready to go to bed for the night. I feel in less pain when I’m sleeping.”
“Oh, mija, I wish I was there.”
“I know, but I’m okay, promise.”
“I’m just glad to hear your voice.”
Santana talks to her mom for awhile longer, filling in the gaps of what Brittany had told her about the success of the surgery. She’s just hanging up when Brittany comes out of the bathroom and she pushes herself out of bed, trying to at least walk to the bathroom and wash her bowl. It hurts a lot, but she manages it and then she slowly sinks down into the bed when Brittany is done changing into her pajamas.
“Do you want to put on a movie that I’m going to fall asleep ten minutes into?” Santana asks.
“If that’s what you feel like doing. We could just go to bed if you’d rather that.”
“No, I want to try a movie.” She shakes her head. “Wonder Woman?”
“The only movie I’ll ever watch three billion times.” Brittany laughs and puts the DVD in the player before laying down beside Santana. “You’re sure you’re not uncomfortable with me in the bed? I can pull them apart.”
“I’m always so much more comfortable with you near me. I want to rest my head on your chest and have you play with my hair.”
“You’re an easy patient.”
“I really love you, Britt.”
“I know, I really love you too.”
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misfitgirlwrites · 6 years ago
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Chapter Three
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        "Aniyah, you better stay with this doctor," Bruce said as they both got in his car.
        "Don't worry, I will." Aniyah groaned, "Look. This is the tenth time you said something to me. I'm not going to do anything stupid." She fixed her white bow tie before running her fingers through her hair.
        "Yeah. Yeah." Bruce mumbled, driving off. 
        "And I told Michaela to call you so she won't blow my phone up," Aniyah added.
        "Why make me deal with her?"
        "Don't be mean! Michaela would love to hear from you." Aniyah chuckled, yawning, "Ugh. Why does this have to be so early." She grumbled.
        "Aniyah. It's 1:30." Bruce glanced at her.
        "Hey. I stayed up late." 
        "Sucks to you." Bruce chuckled.
        "Wow. This building gives me the creeps." Aniyah looked up at Arkham Asylum as Bruce pulled up.
        "Don't back out now." Bruce taunted.
        "You wish," Aniyah smirked, taking off her seat belt. Bruce grabbed her arm before she could get out of the car. Aniyah looked back at him.
        "Be careful, Aniyah." He said.
        Aniyah gave him a reassuring smile, "I will." She nodded.
        Aniyah got out of the car and walked into the building, looking around. 'This place is huge.'
        "Ms. Bluebell?" Aniyah looked over to see a young woman walking towards her.
        "That's me. Call me Aniyah though. Ms. Bluebell makes me sound old." Aniyah chuckled.
        "Well, Aniyah. You can call me Dr. Harrison." The woman smiled.
        She was the same height as Aniyah with bright red hair and deep blue eyes, "And you're going to need this for who we're visiting first." Dr. Harrison pulled out a vibrant pink flower.
        "Oh...This is pretty." Aniyah mumbled, taking the flower.
        "This is a hollyhock, and I'm sure Patient 3395 will love it." Dr. Harrison began to walk and Aniyah followed.
        "Patient 3395?"
        "Yes. Poison Ivy." Dr. Harrison said. 
        "That makes sense." She said, following the doctor downstairs, "How long have you been doing this?" She asked Dr. Harrison.
        "Ten years now." The redhead answered.
        "So, it's safe to say that you like your job?" Aniyah asked, eyeing the door at the end of the hall.
        "Yup. It's interesting. I never have a boring day."  Dr. Harrison said, "Writing about a doctor in your book?" She glanced at Aniyah.
        "I might. I don't know yet. Most of that was just genuine curiosity." Aniyah smiled slightly.
        The two men guarding the door eyes Aniyah carefully.
       "She's with me boys." Dr. Harrison stopped in front of them.
        "So she's the writer then." One of the guards stared Aniyah down, making her look down at her notebook.
        "Yes. Don't be mean." Dr. Harrison opened the cell door and walked inside.
        "This place isn't for people like you. But apparently, you can't see how dangerous this is." The guard staring at her stated.
        Aniyah nodded, "Well. Money can really get you places." She replied, glancing up at the man, "By your first impression, you don't belong here either."
        "At least I can protect myself if something bad happens." The guard shot back.
        "Hm. Good for you. You never heard someone tell you not to piss of a book writer?" Aniyah raised her eyebrow, "Don't be surprised if you magically become the stereotypical asshole in one of my books." With that, Aniyah followed Dr. Harrison into the cell.
        "Pamela? Are you awake?" Dr. Harrison asked.
        The cell closed behind Aniyah as she stared at all of the plants that surrounded the cell.
        "Yes, Doctor." Aniyah's auburn eyes snapped in the direction the voice came from as vibrant green eyes stared back at her.
        "As you can see, we have a guest. This is Aniyah. She's an author." Dr. Harrison said.
        "Hi." Aniyah smiled slightly, staring at Poison Ivy.
        She didn't respond at first, she just stared at Aniyah, "Hello." She finally said.
        Aniyah put her pen in her pocket and walked towards Poison Ivy cautiously, offering her the pink hollyhock.
        "Beautiful." Poison Ivy walked towards Aniyah and took the flower from her. The flower began to grow and bloom as Aniyah watched in fascination.
        "That's amazing." She mumbled.
        Poison Ivy glanced at her, "Thank you. Your book, the science fiction one, what was it called?"
        "Uh, my--oh! You mean Take Me Back Home?"
        "Yes, that one. I really liked it." Poison Ivy said.
        Aniyah's eyes widened slightly. "R-Really? Thank you." She smiled brightly as Poison Ivy nodded.
        "So, how was your day, Pamela?" Dr. Harrison asked.
        "Same as any other day. It would be nice to go outside for some fresh air once in a while." Poison Ivy responded, stroking the petals of the flower.
        "You know we can't do that." Dr. Harrison sighed, "Was there anything interesting that happened today?" 
        "No. Nothing yet."
        "...Yet?" Aniyah asked.
       Poison Ivy glanced at her. "Hm. Well, I do want to read your next book, so I suppose I should warn you." 
        "Warn her about what?" Dr. Harrison asked quickly.
        "By now, Patient 4479 should have helped someone out of their cell. The plan is to shut off the power. I don't mind. This light is stopping my beautiful plants from growing the way they're supposed to." Poison Ivy focused on her flower again.
        "What?" Dr. Harrison's eyes widened as Aniyah glanced at her.
        "You should get Aniyah out of here before something bad happens." Poison Ivy put her flower down, "And thank you for this lovely flower."  
        'The day I visit is the day shit goes wrong? Are you fucking kidding me?' Aniyah thought. She wasn't ready to leave just yet. She at least wanted to see more of the building.
        "Thank you, Pamela." Dr. Harrison grabbed Aniyah's arm and they walked out of the cell.
        "Well, this was a fun visit." Aniyah deadpanned.
        "We'll see if we can do this another time. I don't know if she's telling the truth or not, but I can't take any chances." Dr. Harrison said, "Not with 4479." She mumbled.
        "Who is Patient 4479?" Aniyah asked, raising her eyebrows as she watched Dr. Harrison tense up. 
        "I can't--" The lights went out in the basement, cutting Dr. Harrison off, "Run!" She pushed Aniyah forward and she immediately ran off, jetting upstairs to a different floor.
        "Shit," Aniyah mumbled as the power went out on that floor as well. If the power was out, that means the cells were open. "Bruce will never let me hear the end of this!" She groaned, running down the hall. Aniyah heard footsteps coming in her direction, so she quickly slid into a cell and closed the door. She heard the footsteps go past and sighed with relief. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she tried to calm down. Suddenly, her phone began to ring, making her jump. "For fuck's sake." She quickly answered it before anyone else could hear it.
        "Hello?"
        "Where are you? The doctor said the power went out and the inmates are loose." Bruce said.
        "I'm fine, I'm hiding. I'm not that adventurous, Bruce." Aniyah chuckled nervously, still trying to calm herself down.
        "Stay where you are. I'm coming to get you." With that, Bruce hung up.
        Aniyah sighed and put her phone away.
        "Bruce?" Aniyah froze, hearing the raspy voice behind her. 
        'Shit! I forgot to check the cell before I ran in here!' She scolded herself.
        "As in, Bruce Wayne? So, uh, you must be that little writer the guards were talking about." Aniyah heard the man getting closer, and that's what snapped her out of her trance. She quickly opened the cell door and took off, but before she could go anywhere, the man grabbed Aniyah by her hair and yanked her back into the cell, slamming her against the now-closed metal door. Aniyah closed her eyes tightly and groaned. She heard a loud click.
        "There goes the emergency power." The man chuckled.
        Aniyah tried to pry the man's hands off of her, digging her nails into his skin. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times to get her vision together. Once she looked at the man holding her down, fear immediately washed over her and she took her hands away. It was The Joker. His dark hazel eyes scanned her auburn ones as he licked his lips. 
        'Fucking perfect, Aniyah! Good job!' She thought to herself. Aniyah's eyes went from his faded green hair to his scarred, red pained lips, to the numbers, 4479 on his orange jumpsuit before pressing herself closer to the metal door behind her.
        "Now. Since you're stuck here, we might as well get along, right-ah?" He asked.
        Aniyah slowly nodded, wishing she could melt through the door. Her legs were getting weaker by the second.
        "I'm glad you agree. Hm. Book writing. I might have to read one of your books. From what I heard, you came here to do, research. Am I wrong?" The Joker asked.
        "...No," Aniyah answered quietly.
        "Well don't act so bashful! I'd be honored to answer any questions that you have." He let Aniyah go and turned away from her, "Seeing that you're not leaving any time soon." He added.
        Aniyah struggled to stand up straight. "Why, are you, still here?" She asked, staying against the metal door.
        "Why would I leave? I love it here!" The Joker snickered.
        "What?" She mumbled. " So, did you kill all those people and blow up a hospital to get sent here?" Aniyah's tone came out stronger than she expected and she immediately regretted it.
        "No." The Joker glanced at her. "You see, I don't plan things. I'm not a guy with a plan-ah." He stated.
        "So you're saying you didn't plan anything you did?" 
        "That's right, doll." He faced her again.
        "You didn't do it for money?" She asked.
        "I burned the money." He responded.
        "You, burned the money? You did this to prove a point. What were you trying to prove?" Aniyah asked.
        "That it's easy for society to slip into madness if you simply, mess up their order."
        "...Chaos?" She furrowed her eyebrows together.
        "I'm impressed! No one ever gets that right! I suppose writers are smarter than everyone else-ah." The Joker walked towards her, "You use your imagination. Stay like that. Means you're un-pre-dic-ta-ble." He carefully enunciated every syllable as he poked Aniyah's forehead, leaning against the door. Aniyah stared at him with wide eyes as he stared back at her. The Joker averted his eyes before looking back at her in amusement.
        "...That was a compliment."
        "Thank you," Aniyah replied, pressing herself against the door more.
        "Tell me, doll. Have you ever seen a dead body?" The Joker asked. 
        'Oh, God. This is how I die.' Aniyah thought, looking away and closing her eyes tightly.
        "It's just a simple question. I've seen my share." 
        "Y-Yes. I've seen a dead body before."
        "I'm not talking about the ones you see at a funeral. That's where they all end up. I'm talking about when that little spark of life, disappears-ah. And all that's left is an inadequate object." The Joker's description made Aniyah open her eyes and look up at him, slightly interested, "Have you ever seen one of those?"
        "...No." Aniyah shook her head.
        "Well, you should. It's a good experience for a writer."
        "Aniyah? Aniyah!" Bruce called.
        Aniyah glanced at the door.
        "Come back and visit, Ani-yah." The Joker licked his lips and shot her a smile before punching the cell door, making her yelp loudly. He let out a chuckle at Aniyah's reaction. The door swung open, causing Aniyah to fall back. Bruce caught her before she could hit the ground and guards immediately took The Joker down, cuffing his wrists and ankles. Bruce helped Aniyah up and pulled her close to him as relief filled him.
        "We're leaving." Bruce glared at The Joker and he smirked back. Bruce led Aniyah out of the Asylum. 
        'I just met The Joker.' Aniyah thought. ~~~~~~         "What did he say to you?! Did he hurt you?!" Michaela was on speaker phone as Aniyah sat on the couch, running her fingers through her hair.
        "Nothing happened, he just, let me ask him questions. Insisted, actually." She shrugged.
        "Like what?" Bruce asked.
        "Just, trying to figure out why he did what he did."
        "You said you wouldn't do that, Aniyah!" Michaela said.
        "You honestly think I purposely walked into The Joker's cell?! I wouldn't do that, Michaela! I was fucking terrified!" Aniyah seethed.
        Bruce sighed as Aniyah sat back on the couch, crossing her arms.
        "I know. I know, Aniyah. I'm just scared." Michaela sighed.
        "You're scared? Imagine how I feel." Aniyah huffed, "He told me to come back and visit." She mumbled.
        "No way that's happening," Bruce said.
        "That was, pleasant." Aniyah sighed, laying out on the couch, "I'm staying in with Alfred. Forever." 
        "Don't overreact. You know you're lying." Michaela said.
        "But it is a good idea to stay in for a few days," Bruce said.
        "I will." Aniyah nodded.
        "Well, I have writing to do." She got up, grabbed her laptop and jogged off.
        "Is it too late to make her come back?" Michaela asked.
        "You should know the answer to that." Bruce picked up the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm worried about her. I don't think she understands how dangerous how dangerous The Joker is." 
        "And, just how dangerous is he?" Michaela asked.
        Bruce shook his head. "He's--"
        "Bruce, random question! Have you possibly, in some way, met Poison Ivy?" Aniyah asked.         Bruce looked at her.
        "THE DOCTOR LET YOU MEET POISON IVY?!" Michaela shrieked.
        Aniyah looked at the phone then at Bruce, "Never mind." She quickly walked away.
        "I'll call you back, Michaela." Bruce hung up and followed Aniyah into the kitchen, "You met Poison Ivy?"
        "Yeah. She was nice. In a way. She liked one of my books." Aniyah mumbled, writing in her notebook.
        Before Bruce could respond, his phone went off, "I have to get to this meeting." He mumbled, looking at his watch.
        "Have fun," Aniyah said.
        Bruce rolled his eyes playfully. "This conversation isn't over." He said, leaving.
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herowy · 4 years ago
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Nsfw Headcanon 1
It's only been a few chapters and I'm already dishing out the kinks. I wasn't sure if I should because I feel like it's a bit too soon and wanted to marinate the characters in a bit. Yes, I said marinate.
Just to understand their personality and physical appearance a bit more. I'm slowly working my way through the sketches and once I'm done with all 5 characters I'll redo them again. At least, that's what I'm planning.
Their physics are kind of close to what I want them to be but not exactly so ill keep working on them until I'm fully satisfied with their look. Also, sharpening my skills to draw them properly and realistically.
Mimi
Although she has never done it she is curious. Not a sexually-driven person. Well, not yet…
Mimi always wanted to have fun and go out experiencing new things and is too distracted to really care about her sexual needs.
Not saying she's outright oblivious. She has heard a few things from her friends and searched online for some terms out of pure curiosity. Needless to say, she was flustered but didn't really get what the big deal was.
She hasn't been in a relationship long enough for it to get to that stage of intimacy. Heck, she hasn't even been in a relationship yet. Not until she met him.
The first time the topic of sex between Mimi and him was brought up by one of her friends. They both turned red in the face and she quickly denied it, trying to change the topic.
Their first time doing it was at his house when his parents weren't home. I know, pretty cliche. They were both extremely anxious and embarrassed but also excited.
Y'all gonna be in for a SHOOK because this is where the characters start to really DEVELOP. Ahem, in other words, she has a penis. Yes, I said it. A penis. And it's natural.
After their first time, they did it more frequently and became more comfortable with seeing each bare.
When I said 'frequently' I meant A LOT. They did almost every day. Since they're the first time, Mimi became very sexually active. Well, they are still young after all.
In general, her sexual drive is pretty high.
She gets turned on easily and her being a naturally touchy person does not help.
He could just be next to her with legs touching and she would get excited.
Tries to control her hormones but just ends up mounting him.
Has a scent kink no cap.
During sex, she can become kind of aggressive…more like animalistic.
Growls unconsciously.
Into humping.
She usually does it at either his house or hers and when their parents are gone but doesn't mind getting a little experimental. Maybe doing somewhere public twice or thrice but prefers on a bed where both he and she are comfortable.
Speaking of experimental doesn't mind introducing toys into the action and is pretty turned on by the idea. She likes trying out new things after all. Overall, it's exciting for her to see him so pleasured but prefers pleasing you with her own hands and mouth and DIC-
Doesn't really like the idea of having a threesome or more. She'll come to agree if she sees he's really fond of the idea but only with someone they both completely trust.
Doesn't really mind being watched as long as he's comfortable with it and also because once they start doing it together, they are in their own world and doesn't care for who's watching.
Doesn't mind him experimenting on her with blindfolds handcuffs and a cock ring but gets really riled afterwards.
Likes a bit of bondage on him here and there. If he begins to whine about taking them off she would be tempted to either give into his pleads or deny him a little more to see his reaction. Wants to give into him because the warmth of his arms around her neck while she's thrusting endearing yet refuting him and knowing how badly he wants to cling onto her turns her on even more.
If she is being tired she would a be restless most of the time and pout. Not being able to do anything frustrates her but seeing how he's using her dick to make himself feel good is incredibly sexy.
After he cums she would beg him to let her touch him.
Him teasing her would just be so easy. She would be very red and depending on the situation she'll try to tolerate it as long as possible and pleading him to stop, lightly scolding him with a frown.
If he teases her a lot while they're in public then she'll just pull him over to a bathroom or the most private corner she could find and do it there.
Likes to do quickies. The acceleration of thrusting into him turns her on. These are usually done when in public.
Still loves taking it a slower and appreciating his body and this can only be done when they're at home.
A biting kink, I kid you not. Gets a little bloody. She does it unconsciously and when it's over she would finally realise and apologize about it several times. Probably suggest going to a doctor lol.
He told her he doesn't mind but she feels really guilty. Still does it, it's like on instinct or something. She just has an urge to bite.
If he bites her, that would surge her on even more.
Basically, she's like a wild dog.
Goes for many rounds and has great stamina because of her fitness.
Since she does go for multiples of rounds probably has an overstimulation kink without even noticing. Not hardcore about it but seeing him spilling tears because of how pleasured he is encourages her to it do more.
A praise kink. Loves it when he praises her. Knowing that she's making him feel good makes her happy.
Loves both receiving and giving oral.
Rubbing his penis or eating him out while observing him arching back in ecstasy.
Finds it very cute when he tussles at her hair trying to feel more of her tongue.
Him giving her a blowjob makes her extremely flustered and it feels ridiculously good. Hands-on gently gripping his soft hair and trying not to hurt him. The whole visual stimulate her even more. Won't be able to stay still because of the bundles of pleasure so she'll finger him in the middle of it.
Very vocal and can't control it at times because he feels so good.
Has a fantasy of cumming inside of him and creampie.
They use a condom when doing it though. Unless they do plan on knocking up a child then she would do it. Makes sure she's got clear permission.
Finds it sexy when he wears lingerie in the bedroom. She likes them all. Anything he wears is cute, of course.
More into the cute style like mini bows and lively colours. A simple pink or bright blue undergarment is enough to get her active.
Has trouble take off bras with mini hooks. She wears sports bra most of her growing years so when it came to taking off his, she was embarrassed by how clumsy she was fiddling with his hooks.
She fondles with his chest a lot. Loving how small and cute and soft they are. Probably into nipple play. Touching and sucking on them constantly for hours. He is going to have a sore chest the next morning.
They usually do it in the basic position like missionary, doggy style or the riding position.
When he's not around and she has the urge to do it, she would try to wait for her dick to calm down or just relieves herself quickly.
Being in a relationship, she doesn't masturbate often because doing it with him feels ten times better but even when she does do it she would feel ashamed afterwards and probably unable to look him in the eye for a few hours.
After finishing, she's pretty burned out from using her energy so much but is still stable enough to walk to the kitchen. She lays next to him and rests for a few minutes.
She would make sure he's okay after recollecting herself and ask him if he needs anything like water, food, a bath. Would be willing to drive out and get him things if he requests it. So cute.
Usually, people would be really tired and sleeps after sex but Mimi just gets hungry instead. The energy she has is-
Although, she would want to get something to eat but seeing him so calm and soft next to her shoulder makes her want to stay and hold him instead.
He'll probably hear some stomach growls at night though.
She doesn't mind the mess too much and snuggles up close to him as possible, holding him by the waist.
She would stare at him for a bit and finally sleeps after he does. She just can't believe how beautiful he is.
Likes to tuck her face between his neck and shoulder and hug his waist when they sleep.
Overall, she's a vanilla type of person and loves to please her partner a lot. She can also be experimental and is very open to new things but prefers to use her own body to satisfy her lover, and knowing that he feels good because of her and not some toy.
Okay, so I decided to just keep this as a headcanon because it's long enough and saves the scenarios for a different time or perhaps a request. There are many things involved so I wouldn't even know where to start.
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sinsiriuslyemo · 7 years ago
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Good morning! Jen is on a plane today, so here is the new episode!! A visit from Dama, and Nevada finds some rare affection in prison.
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EPISODE 6
Nevada walked into the visitor’s room and smiled at you. He still had a faint black eye, but the cut on his brow had healed quite nicely, now with only butterfly stitches keeping the wound closed.
“Hey baby,” he said, pulling you into a hug and kissing you deeply, hands moving to cup your bottom.
It had been almost two months since he’d been inside, and the lack of any sexual gratification was beginning to wear on him. So much so that he’d paid off a guard to give the two of you twenty minutes alone.
“Nevada what happened?” you whispered, eyes filled with fear as you looked him over. “Oh my god,” you kissed the cut and the black eye.
“Some Aryan asshole picked a fight with me,” he answered. “I’m fine, come here,” he added, pulling you back in for another kiss. “I missed you, mami.”
“I missed you too,” you kissed back and hugged him tight, sniffling as you buried your face in his neck.
“Oye, don’t cry, come on. Por favor,” he said softly, kissing your neck. “Fuck, you smell good,” he whispered, pulling you tighter to him and inhaling the scent of your shampoo.
You stroked his hair and smiled a bit, looking him over as you leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss. He hummed against your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip.
“Show me a little something,” he mumbled to you with a smirk.
You quirked a brow and sighed with a giggle, “You are lucky I don't have stage fright Nevada Ramirez,” you stripped off your dress, leaving you down naked.
“Coño, chica, I was just looking for an upskirt or you to let me see down your dress. Oye, put it back on, carajo, you’re gonna get kicked out,” he replied, trying to cover you up with his body.
Oz walked by the visitor's room on his way to see his own loved one and smirked as he gave you an appreciative once over.
You waved with a smirk, giggling as Nevada tried to cover you back up. You tugged back on your dress. “Got a good look? Wanna touch something or are you good?”
“I wanna touch everything, Dama,” he purred, reaching under your dress just as the guard came in and stood by the door.
“Your free twenty is up, Ramirez. Hands off or this visit is over and you’ll go straight to the hole,” he said.
“God damn it,” Nevada groaned, moving his hands and sitting at the table with a sigh. “So...how are the kids doing? Good?”
“The boys at school are causing trouble, now Lily wants to know if papi dropped the soap.”
The guard coughed to hide a laugh.
“The fuck are you laughing at, pendejo?” Nevada inquired, arching a brow at the guard before he turned back to you. “Tell her, no, her papi knows how to protect himself in here. And tell those little pendejíns to shut their fucking mouths. Lemme guess Cecile’s kid.”
“Is Cecile Stephen’s mother?”
“Yeah, la puta mierdita ese,” he replied. “She’s usually the one leading the gossip train. Probably hasn’t had a good fuck in years...but that’s probably cause her husbands into some kinky shit.
“You're into kinky shit, and I always get a good fuck. But I punched her in the face...oops.”
“Good for you...and no, I mean he’s into getting pissed on. That’s too fucking kinky for me, fuck that. I wanna get pissed on, I’ll just piss in the shower.”
“I've been pissed on, didn't love it,” you made a face and the guard again coughed.
You turned, “Oye pendejo, you trying being a 22 year old girl, shit gets complicated! Coño so fucking judgy.”
Nevada chuckled softly, biting down on his bottom lip as his hands went to your calves.
“Hands, Ramirez,” the guard warned.
Groaning softly, Nevada pulled his hand away and looked up at you.
“Why were you so sad the other day?” he asked softly.
“It just gets lonely at night.” You looked at the guard, “Vagina, vagina, vagina.”
“I'm gay, not twelve, say vagina all you want,” he rolled his eyes. “You two, I swear I've never had such an annoying couple to supervise.”
“Go complain to the human resources department, pendejo, cause I sure don’t give a fuck,” Nevada replied without looking at him. “I’m sorry, mami...I’m gonna do my best to make sure this doesn’t happen again, pero...right now, we just gotta tough it out.”
“Never again,” you whisper seriously. “I'm not cut out to be a prison wife.”
He smirked, nodding his head as the guard spoke up again.
“Alright, Ramirez. Times up. Say your goodbyes.”
Standing, he pulled you into a tight hug, kissing
you deeply and slipping you his tongue. You moaned and gave his dick a gentle rub before pulling away finally.
“Oye, why do you have to tease me like that?” he asked with a smirk, trying to kiss you again only to be yanked back by the guard and shoved towards the door. “Get the fuck off me, pendejo,” he snarled, shaking the guard off and looking back at you. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” you called after him.
The next morning, Oz had advised Nevada to be ready for someone to come for him. There were lifers in here who were more than happy to take the job from old man DiC.
“Nevada,” the doctor greeted as he walked into the infirmary during their free period. “If you're looking for your prostate exam I'm afraid I'm not that kind of doctor.”
“No, I came to see you, mami. A beautiful face is pretty rare around here, just you and me,” he teased, winking at her.
Of course, he had other motives for being there as well. He figured the quickest way to procure a weapon without having to make one was to boost one of the scalpels from the infirmary. Making a weapon would take too long, and the chances of being caught making it were greater than those of just stealing it.
“Uh huh, well you're not supposed to be here without a guard,” she chastised.
“You’re not scared of me, are you?” he asked softly. “I won’t bite unless you ask me to, I promise,” he added, still smirking.
“Scared? No. But protocol says I can get in trouble for killing you if you lunge at me and there's no guard. I don't like paperwork.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“I won’t lunge at you, mami. You don’t got nothing to worry about, I won’t tell,” he replied, taking a small step towards her.
“I'm not here to play naughty nurse with you,” she added but didn't take a step back as she continued looking over her charts.
“I’m not expecting you to,” he replied, taking another step.
She looked at him, “What are you doing?” She took a step back so her back was against the scalpel tray.
“Sorry, you just...you remind me a lot of my wife, and...you know, prison gets pretty lonely. I miss her a lot,” he replied. “I was hoping maybe you could help me out and...just let me hold you for a minute,” he added, giving her his best puppy eyes, looking sincere as he held his hands up. “I promise I won’t get fresh.”
She stared at him for a long moment, “You seem sincere, I'm sorry you miss her. But do you have an idea how cripplingly stupid I would be to let an inmate put his arms around me? You could be in here for murder, sexual assault, choking doctors to death, I would be a fool to let you hold me.”
“I got busted for possession with intent. Nonviolent crime. I don’t wanna hurt you, mami, I just wanna feel a warm, soft body pressed against mine for one minute,” he answered.
And to get to the scalpels behind you long enough to slip one into my pocket, he thought to himself.
“I promise you, I won’t hurt you. You can time me and everything,” he said, giving her a disarming smile.
“If you make a move,” she said as she picked up a scalpel, “that I deem inappropriate, I will stab you and make it look like an inmate shanking,” she said.
“We’re the only two in here, mami. You stick me with that, and you better hope you kill me,” he teased, walking up and pulling her into his arms, holding her tightly to him and making a show of sniffing her hair as one hand reached for the scalpels. Grabbing one and sliding it into his pocket, he sighed contently.
She didn’t smell anything like you, still it felt nice to feel her against him, and if he closed his eyes and held his breath, it almost felt like he was home with you. He held her a little tighter, dipping his head to press his nose against her shoulder.
She moved her free hand and relaxed after a moment, setting the scalpel down as she stroked his hair soothingly.
Again he sighed, smirking a little as he felt his body relax against her. Tenderness was nonexistent in prison, and despite his ulterior motives for being here in the first place, he wanted to relish this feeling while he could.
“Thank you,” he whispered softly, still holding onto her.
She nodded, stroking her fingers through his hair and letting him hold on as long as he needed. He allowed himself a few more precious seconds before forcing himself to let her go.
“Alright, I’ll uh...let you get back to work, I guess,” he said, looking down at her and smiling a little.
She smiled back, “have a good day Nevada.”
“You too,” he answered, winking at her and moving out of the infirmary with a triumphant smirk.
Moving to the gym, he started to walk towards OJ and Miguel, taking his shirt off and laying to start a set of bench presses.
“You get it?” OJ asked softly, coming to stand behind Nevada to spot him.
“Yep,” Nevada answered, wrapping his hands around the bar and starting his workout.
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kmtluis12729296-blog · 6 years ago
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