#jo is not a doctor or a medical professional - she is just someone doing her best

[jolalibrary]

Hey there, I truly admire your openness about your anxiety, and I was wondering if you could offer any tips or techniques that have helped you, especially in the context of being active on this platform. Love your work!

tw: anxiety

hi anon! thank you so much, that's really nice of you. i deffo think i could be more open about it, but it's nice that I've been able to be open enough for you to reach out. i'm sorry it took me a day or two to get back to you, i just wanted to make sure i thought up/over things so i was being as helpful as possible! it's important for me to stress that my situation and my anxiety isn't going to be like everyone else's, and how i cope with it isn't like the "go to". but here are some things that help me (i am not claiming that any of these i came up):

creating a rainy day folder: bad days are a thing for everyone, but i know what things put me in a "stormier" frame of mind, and what i'm critical about. so, when things make me smile (comments, nice reblogs, tags, inbox, dms) i screenshot them and pop them in this folder. and when i need an extra boost (or some proof to fire back at my brain that it's wrong) i spend a bit of time in there. as it's me, it's highly organised HA! but, it deffo helps having the folder, and its reminded me, at times, why i love what i do here.

celebrate with cake: i'm a high-functioning person, who has super low self-esteem. for a good portion of my life (an embarrassingly large portion, honestly) good accomplishments were not celebrated. so, now i make a point to celebrate certain things with food (or books, if I'm reading a lot). one thing I've learnt with my anxiety is that it's easy to get into a cycle, and one way of breaking this is to stop and take the time to realise the milestones I've accomplished or how far I've come. just the other day, i took a walk to the shop and grabbed myself a chocolate bar. a year ago, i wouldn't have felt comfortable doing that by myself. and it's important to recognise those achievements when you've had a hard time. i also recommend everyone gets themselves cake when they finish a series (it's the rules, i swear).

learn about yourself: i'm going to be brutally honest and hope this doesn't bite me on the arse, but there are a lot of times i don't really like myself? i don't see the value i offer, i feel like i let people down, etc etc. it used to be worse, and one of the ways that helped me go from every day i didn't like myself to occasionally disliked myself, is by educating myself on me. I've spent a lot of time making myself small to fit in, I've done things others are into so i fit in to the point i wasn't sure who i was. so, when i had a menty-b (the name i call it), i sat with myself and learnt what i liked. music. movies. clothing. passions. hobbies. i have always written, but i wasn't necessarily writing things i loved. so, i changed it. i dated myself (a term lots of people use). i told my husband i was going to spend Friday nights with myself, and i did something i wanted to do. on my own. and in time, that helped with my anxious feelings and my fears about being online. because i spend a lot of time worrying about what people think, but by dating myself i could learn nice things about me - and that way, had things i could tell myself i knew were true: that i'm actually very nice, kind and really funny. it might not making pressing 'post" easier, but i can hold my chin a little higher?

set yourself a goal of happiness: we're all motivated by different things. sometimes, we make a mental goal to ourselves and it becomes blurred and distorted in numbers. but, if your anxiety (like mine) likes to have a thing to measure itself against, choose something that isn't numbers based, but happiness based. did someone tell you this month that your writing/art/gifs made their day? did something you say make them feel better? it's hard, it really is, and i know there will be people reading this and scoffing, but truthfully, one person telling me something i wrote made their day is all a jo really fucking wants. because i'm going to write regardless, it's a choice i make to share it. so, while i gave examples above, that isn't my current goal, but it was a goal i had, and as long as i try to remind myself of that it helps.

which leads me into, try to stay away from the numbers game which i know is hard. but it does nothing for an anxious mind. like, it's a fickle thing. moods change. don't base your worth on a number, you matter far more than it.

accept it's a part of you: this one is more about me, but since you're asking me i thought this is probably allowed. i have a long-term anxiety disorder - which took a long time to get diagnosed - and i have some other little... things that come with that. and for a long time, i felt broken. but, i was reading a self-help book (because your girl loves reading books about brains) and i realised that i have anxiety. it is already part of me. so i need to work with it. anxiety isn\t nice, it's not kind and it's really annoying. but it also makes me empathetic, it makes me care about the work i do (both here and in my day to day life), or makes me compassionate. whether you have it short term or long term, sometimes it's better to accept it's there, acknowledge it, but DON'T FEED IT. have the worries, and then halt them, tell them no. I've found fighting it before I've got the strength doesn't help me. but, waking up, knowing it's there, nodding at it helps keep it in check. this might not make any sense, but, you know.

and finally, the one i'm still working on is: i cannot fix everything and this is fun, so i need to ensure it stays that way for me. which i know isn't really a tip. but it's a good thing to remember. i am one person, it is not on me to check on every single person. it isn't on me to read every single thing. i don't have to engage with things i don't agree with, i don't have to say all my opinions. i can change fandoms. i can not post for a day/week/month. and all i have to do, if i want to, is offer my absolute best. that's it. it's hard. and it's tough to swallow. but sometimes, a jo just needs to be jo.

i am not sure if my rambling has been helpful, but i thought i could list these: plot your fic, find a buddy to talk about things with, surround yourself with good people. but I've said all of these. but the above are things i can do by myself. they are things i can control. and with anxiety, we're all just looking for the things we can manage, and so i based the list in that way. thank you for coming to my jo-talk, i'm going to go hide from being so vulnerable.

[brunchable]

LAZARUS SERUM || Steve Rogers x Enhanced!FReader

FINAL

Part One | Part Two | Part Three Words: 10.4K Themes: Drama, Lovers to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers. Warning: Nothing really? Sneak Peak: “I can’t believe they had this,” he says, his voice tinged with nostalgia as he carefully places the vinyl of ‘You Belong to Me’ by Jo Stafford on the turntable. The record crackles softly as the needle touches down, and soon, the sultry, smooth sound of a saxophone fills the room. A/N: This is probably the most romantic thing I've ever written, to me at least. Up to you if you want to hear the Song played in this story. Anyways Last Part, definitely enjoyed giving some life into this, I will miss this story now that it's over. Brb I'm going to cry.

Tags: @haruvalentine4321@strepsils123@realifelamb@needsleep3000@vicmc624@i-can-do-this-all-dayy@mrs-jjmaybank @nesnejwritings @feelinthefic@niffala@fantasyfootballchampion@thefandomplace @bellajean9-blog

Steve could hardly bring himself to watch as they treated your body with a clinical detachment that made his chest tighten. He knew this was protocol—you were government property now, subject to the rigorous examination and eventual autopsy that all enhanced individuals faced in death. Despite the protocol, the medical team was ordered to delay the autopsy until all Hydra officials are cleared out.

Steve sat by your side, holding your hand. It was cold now, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. The room was filled with the faint beeping of machines monitoring nothing at all. They were just there, another part of the procedure, keeping track of a body that showed no signs of life.

He barely left the room, and when he did, it was only because someone—Natasha, Tony, or Sam—forced him to. He didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, just sat there, his mind replaying the events that had led them to this point. The sound of Pierce pressing that button echoed in his head, a constant reminder of what had been lost.

Days passed, each one blurring into the next. The doctors kept their vigil, waiting for the required period to pass before they could begin the autopsy. For Steve, those days felt like an eternity. He refused to leave your side, clutching your cold hand as if it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. He whispered to you words that even he wasn’t sure he believed—words of love, of regret, of apologies for not being able to save you.

Natasha checked on Steve regularly, bringing him food that often went untouched. Tony lingered at the door more often than not, wanting to offer comfort but unsure of how to bridge the growing chasm of grief that separated Steve from the rest of the world. Sam tried to talk to him, tried to get him to rest, but Steve was a statue.

On the fourth day, the medical team began to prepare for the inevitable. The necessary observations had been made, and there was no sign of any changes. The protocol was clear—they would move forward with the autopsy. 

Steve felt the weight of the world pressing down on him as he overheard the quiet conversation between two of the doctors at the door, discussing the next steps. It was like the final nail in a coffin that had been closing around him for days.

He had known this was coming, but knowing didn’t make it any easier. The thought of them cutting into you, of them treating your body like just another subject in their endless quest for knowledge, made something inside him twist painfully. But he didn’t stop them. He couldn’t. This was beyond him now, beyond anything he could control.

Finally, the lead doctor approached Steve, her expression one of professional sympathy. “Captain Rogers,” she began, her voice gentle, “we need to start the procedure. We’ll take care of her… with the utmost respect.”

Steve nodded numbly, his throat too tight to form words. He stood up slowly, his legs heavy as if they were made of lead, and leaned down to press a final kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against her cold skin for a moment longer than necessary.

“I love you,” he whispered.

No answer.

With a heavy heart, Steve turned and walked out of the isolation room, the door closing softly behind him. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. Every step felt like an insurmountable task, his body weighed down by a grief so profound that it was all he could do to keep moving.

As the door sealed shut, the doctors began their work, the room’s sterile lights flickering as the gravity of the situation settled over them like a shroud. 

Outside, Steve leaned against the wall, the sterile corridor around him a blur. He felt Natasha’s presence beside him, her hand gently resting on his arm, offering silent support. But there were no words that could heal this wound, no comfort that could ease the pain of losing you. . .for real.

Inside the room, the lead doctor took a deep breath and steadied her hand as she reached for the scalpel. The cold metal glinted under the sterile lights as she positioned it above your chest. The other doctors stood ready, watching closely, their expressions grim behind their surgical masks.

With a calm, steady motion, the doctor pressed the scalpel down, expecting the blade to cut through the skin with ease. But instead of the familiar sensation of metal slicing flesh, the blade stopped short, bending as if it had struck something impossibly hard.

“What the—?” the doctor gasped, her eyes widening in shock as she lifted the scalpel. She examined it closely, her heart pounding in her chest. The blade, which should have cut cleanly, was bent at an unnatural angle, as if it had been pressed against solid steel instead of skin.

The room went still, a heavy silence descending as the other doctors leaned in, trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed.

“What happened?” one of the nurses asked.

“I don’t know,” the lead doctor replied, her voice unsteady. She cautiously reached out, placing her hand on your chest, feeling for any sign of movement, of life. The skin beneath her fingers was cold and unmoving. Before she could pull her hand away, you grabbed her wrist, your eyes snapped open, wide and unseeing, and you drew in a sharp, ragged breath.

“AHHHH!” The lead doctor jumped back with a scream, dropping the bent scalpel as she stumbled into a tray of instruments, sending them clattering to the floor. 

The other doctors recoiled in shock, their faces pale with disbelief as they watched your chest rise and fall, your breaths shallow and erratic.

Your eyes were wild and unfocused, your mind struggling to make sense of what was happening. Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alive with a burning sensation that tore through you. You tried to move, to sit up, but your limbs feel heavy, uncooperative.

Outside, Steve heard the commotion and felt his heart leap into his throat. He pushed the door open, his breath catching in his chest as he saw you—alive, gasping for air.

“Y/N!” Steve shouted, rushing to your side. He reached out, his hand trembling as he tried to steady you, to offer some comfort. But you flinched at his touch, recoiling as if his hand had burned you.

When you looked at him, there was no relief—only confusion and fear. You yanked your hand out of his grasp, your body tensing as you scrambled to push yourself up. Your movements were jerky, uncoordinated, survival instinct kicking in.

“Where… where am I?” you gasped, your voice a mixture of confusion and alarm. “What’s happening? Steve—what did you do?”

Steve’s heart sank. He knew the signs; the serum had done more than just bring you back to life—it had reset your mind, made you relive old traumas. To you, it was as if the breakup had just happened, and the trust you had rebuilt was shattered once again.

“Y/N, it’s okay,” Steve said gently, holding out his hands in a placating gesture. “You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you.”

But his words only seemed to fuel your confusion. 

“Stay back, asshole!” you shouted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. Your eyes darted around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, the machines, the sterile environment. You felt trapped, cornered.

Before Steve could react, you launched yourself at him, your movements quick but disoriented. You swung at him, your fists connecting with surprising force as you fought to defend yourself from what you perceived as a threat. Steve caught your wrists, trying to restrain you without hurting you, but your strength was fueled by the fear coursing through you.

“Y/N, stop!” Steve pleaded, his voice strained as he struggled to hold you back. “I’m not going to hurt you! Please, just listen to me!”

But you were beyond reason. The serum had done its work too well, resetting you to a time when trust had been shattered and your emotions were raw. To you, Steve was the enemy, the one who had broken your heart. You fought with everything you had, your punches wild but powerful, driven by your fresh emotions.

Steve didn’t fight back, only defended himself, his heart jumping with every strike you landed. 

“Y/N, please,” he said, his voice cracking as he managed to pin your arms down, his face inches from yours. “I’m not your enemy. You’re confused… the serum… it did something to you. But I’m here to help. I’m here for you.”

You continued to struggle. Desperate to make you stop, to get through to you, Steve did the only thing he could think of. He leaned in and possessed your lips with his soft ones, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss—his love, his regret, his longing. Steve kissed you like he was drowning and needed the air. 

Your eyes widened in shock, your naked body stiffening as Steve took you by surprise. For a moment, you fought against it, your mind screaming at you to pull away. But the intensity of the kiss, the raw emotion behind it, started to break through the fog of confusion. Your struggles began to weaken, your fists unclenching as you slowly stopped fighting.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel the kiss, the familiar warmth of his lips on yours, and the emotions it stirred within you. The walls you had built up began to crack, and you leaned into him, letting your guard down.

But just as quickly, the reality of the fractured relationship hit you like a freight train. The trust he had broken, the pain he had caused—it all came rushing back. Your eyes snapped open, and a surge of anger flared within you.

With a burst of strength, you shoved Steve back, your eyes blazing with fury. 

“This is for breaking my heart!” you hissed, driving your knee into his crotch with brutal force.

Steve gasped, doubling over in pain, but before he could react, you struck again, your voice laced with venom. 

“And this is for making promises you can't keep.” you delivered a second, equally vicious kick, sending him to the ground.

Steve collapsed, clutching his midsection, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to recover from the blows. He looked up at you, face red in terrible pain. 

“Y/N… I’m sorry…” 

You stood over him, your chest heaving with exertion and emotion, but your resolve wavered. You had wanted to hurt him, to make him feel the pain he had caused you, but seeing him like this, the man you still loved despite everything, made you falter.

You took a shaky step back, your anger beginning to ebb, replaced by confusion and exhaustion. Your head was spinning, the effects of the serum still clouding your mind, making it hard to think straight.

Steve slowly pushed himself up, wincing with every movement, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. He could see the conflict in your eyes, the struggle between your anger and the love you had once shared. He knew he deserved every bit of your wrath, but it didn’t change the fact that he needed to reach you, to help you through this.

“Y/N…” he started, his voice soft, filled with regret. “I know I hurt you. And I’m so sorry. But I’m not going to give up on you. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving.”

× × × × 

Tony Stark wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when he made his way to the medical wing of the Compound. Ever since your death, the atmosphere had been oppressively heavy, with Steve barely leaving your side. The team was on edge, everyone handling their grief in their own way. But Tony knew something had changed—he had caught wind of the commotion in the medical bay, and his curiosity, mixed with concern, got the better of him.

As he approached the door to the room where you were being kept, Tony could hear the faint sounds of a struggle—a thud, followed by muffled voices. His brows furrowed in concern. Steve had been in there for days, practically refusing to move, and now…what the hell was going on?

He quickened his pace, just in time to hear your voice, filled with unresolved anger, though it was shaky and weak. Tony couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was unmistakable—this was bad.

Tony reached the doorway just as your knee drove into Steve’s crotch with brutal force. The sight made him stop in his tracks, eyes wide as Steve crumpled to the floor, clutching himself in obvious pain.

“HOLY SHIT,” Tony blurted out, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief. He had seen a lot in his time as Iron Man, but this…this was something else. He instinctively stepped back, half-expecting to need to intervene, but also too stunned to fully process what was happening.

Before Tony could react further, other medical staff rushed into the room, alerted by the commotion. They immediately moved toward you, trying to cover your naked body. You were visibly disoriented, your chest heaving with exertion. “Ma’am, please, you need to stay calm,” one of the nurses said gently, trying to approach you with caution. “We’re here to help you.”

But you, still caught in the confusion of your reset mind, saw the medics as another threat. 

“Stay away from me!” you shouted. As one of the nurses reached out to check your vitals, you ripped off the telemetry wires attached to you, the monitors emitting frantic beeps before falling silent.

“Y/N, it’s okay,” another medic tried to soothe, but you were having none of it. 

Your movements were erratic as you swatted their hands away, “I don’t need your help!”

Tony watched, half in awe, half in concern, as you continued to resist the medics’ attempts to care for you. He knew better than to get in the middle of it, but he couldn’t help but step in with a bit of his usual Stark charm.

“Whoa, whoa, guys,” Tony said, raising his hands in a calming gesture as he moved forward. “Let’s give her some space, alright? She just came back from the dead—probably needs a minute.”

The medics hesitated, looking between Tony and you, unsure whether to back off or insist on providing care. 

Tony gave them a wink that said, ‘Trust me on this,’ and after a moment, they reluctantly stepped back, keeping a watchful eye on you from a safer distance.

Now free of the wires and the medics’ touch, you stood shakily, your eyes darting around the room as you tried to make sense of everything. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the sterile environment. 

Tony passed you a hospital gown, his eyes looking everywhere except your body.

Steve, still recovering from the brutal knee to his groin, slowly pushed himself up from the floor. He was in pain, both physical and emotional, but his concern for you overrode everything else. 

“Y/N,” he said softly, trying to reach you without spooking you further. “Please, just listen to me.”

Tony, sensing the delicate balance of the situation, decided to break the tension with a bit of levity. 

“Okay, let’s take a breath here,” he said, stepping between you slightly, though careful not to put himself in your direct line of fire. 

“Steve, buddy, we really need to work on your situational awareness. You’ve got the super-soldier strength, the reflexes… but somehow, you’re still a magnet for knees to the jewels. Twice in one day? Seriously?”

Steve, still wincing in pain, shot Tony a pained look. “Not the time, Tony.”

Tony, completely undeterred, shrugged. “I’m just saying, next time maybe lead with the shield. Protecting America’s ass is important, but protecting America’s future generations… Now that’s crucial. I can even add some extra padding to your suit. Think about it—‘Ballistic Protection’ could be the next big thing.” 

Steve gave Tony a look that was part exasperation, part grudging amusement. “Thanks, Tony. I’ll… consider it.”

Tony smirked, clearly pleased with himself, but his tone softened as he turned to Y/N. “And you, welcome back, Y/N. Hell of a return. But, uh, maybe take it easy on the guy, huh? He’s not as indestructible as he looks.”

You blinked, your anger dimming slightly as Tony’s words cut through the haze. You looked at him, then back at Steve, the fight slowly draining out of you. 

“I… I don’t know what’s happening.”

Steve, still wincing in pain but determined to help, took a tentative step closer. “You’re safe now, Y/N.”

Your eyes filled with tears. You wanted to believe him, but the fear and confusion made it hard to know what was real.

Seeing you distress, one of the medics stepped forward again, this time more cautiously. “Ma’am, please, let us help you. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You looked at the medic, then back at Steve. The fight had left you, replaced by a deep exhaustion. Slowly, you nodded, allowing the medics to approach you more carefully this time.

Tony watched as the medics gently guided you to a chair, their movements slow and deliberate, ensuring you felt safe. He caught Steve’s eye, giving him a small nod of encouragement. “She’s tough, Rogers. She’ll be fine.”

As the medics began to reattach the telemetry wires to you, Tony took a step back, giving them space to work. He turned to leave, but not before giving Steve a pat on the shoulder. 

× × × ×

6 months later.

The late morning air is crisp and cool as you step out of your father’s old home—well now yours. The grand house sits tucked into a forested valley, surrounded by towering pine trees that stretch toward the sky, their branches swaying gently in the cool mountain breeze. It’s a place untouched by the outside world, a small haven carved out in nature’s embrace. The air is filled with the scent of earth and pine, a sharp contrast to the steel and smoke of the life you left behind.

This has become your sanctuary over the past six months—a place where you can try to make sense of the world. A place where the world slows down, where you can finally allow yourself to exhale. Here, in this secluded corner of the world, you’re not defined by the battles you’ve fought or the name you carry. You’re simply… you.

You’ve been brought up to speed on everything you need to know, who you've become, the details of modern life, but no amount of information can change the fact that you feel like a relic of the past. The government knew where you were though, Steve fought in preventing you from going into The Raft and the outcome was putting a tracker in your arm, indefinitely.

You know your name will always be painted red, no matter what you do, and you’ve accepted that. So, you’ve chosen to lay low, to live quietly, far from the chaos that once defined your life.

As you prepare to run your errands—simple tasks that help you maintain a sense of normalcy—you step out onto the porch, pausing as you catch sight of a familiar figure leaning casually against a motorcycle in your driveway. 

Steve Rogers.

Steve stands there in his usual effortless style, somehow managing to make even the simplest outfit look undeniably charming. He’s wearing a navy blue Henley shirt that clings just enough to show off his broad shoulders and strong chest, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing the toned muscles of his forearms. His worn, dark-wash jeans fit perfectly, comfortably broken in from years of wear, sitting low on his hips. 

A brown leather jacket is slung over the seat of his motorcycle, its aged texture adding a rugged element to his otherwise clean look. His boots—scuffed, but sturdy—are planted firmly on the gravel of your driveway, completing the look of someone who is always ready to hit the road at a moment’s notice. 

His hair, slightly tousled by the breeze, catches the light, and his blue eyes are the kind that seem to cut straight through any walls you’ve tried to build.

You feel a familiar tug in your chest, a mix of emotions you’ve tried to push aside for months. Despite everything, despite how often you’ve pushed him away, Steve never misses a chance to show up. He’s determined, and no amount of rejection seems to deter him. It’s something that both infuriates and touches you deeply.

Steve looks up as you approach, a warm smile spreading across his face. His blue eyes, as clear and sincere as ever, meet yours, and for a moment, the world around you seems to fade into the background.

“Morning, just stopping by to check on you.” he greets, his voice soft, but with that unmistakable tone of affection that always makes your heart skip a beat.

“Stopping by?” you reply, raising an eyebrow with a touch of sarcasm. “You seem too far away from home.”

“Guess I couldn’t stay away,” he admits, his smile not fading. 

“You’ve been stopping by a lot lately, Rogers.” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to maintain your guarded demeanor, though the small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth betrays you. 

“Yeah,” he says, his tone more serious as he takes a step closer. “I guess I have. I can’t help myself.”

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” You sigh, shaking your head.

Steve’s smile softens, his eyes filled with a sincerity that makes your chest tighten. “I just… wanted to see you. Make sure you’re doing okay.”

You look at him, really look at him, and see the sincerity in his eyes—the same sincerity that has always been there, even back in 1940. He’s changed, of course, as you all have, but in some ways, he’s still the same Steve you knew all those years ago. The one who would go to the ends of the earth for the people he loves.

You shake your head, more at yourself than at him, and let out a soft sigh. “Your persistence is maddening, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Steve’s smile widens, that boyish, heartwarming grin that always seems to disarm you. 

You glance down at the checklist for your errands. “I was just about to head out. Got some things to take care of in town.”

Steve nods, not missing a beat. “Mind if I tag along? I promise not to be too much of a nuisance.”

You hesitate for a moment, weighing your options. You could send him away, as you’ve done so many times before, or you could let him in, even if just a little. The latter option is the more dangerous one—dangerous to the walls you’ve built around yourself—but it’s also the one that tugs at your heartstrings the most.

With a resigned sigh, you nod. “Alright, fine. But if you’re coming with me, you’re carrying the heavy stuff.”

Steve grins, that familiar spark in his eyes. “Deal.”

As you walk toward your car, Steve falls into step beside you, his presence a comforting, albeit persistent, reminder that you’re not as alone as you sometimes feel. You reach your car, and you hand him the keys without a word.

“You drive,” you say, giving him a sidelong glance. “I’ve been told I’m too reckless.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

You both climb into the car, and as Steve starts the engine, you lean back in your seat, trying to suppress the fluttering in your chest. It’s just a drive into town, just a few errands, but with Steve, everything seems to carry a little more weight, a little more meaning.

× × × ×

The road winds through the mountains, the late morning sun casting a warm, golden light over and trees that line the way.

Steve drives one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. You steal a glance at him, taking in the way the sunlight filters through his golden hair, the way his brow furrows slightly in concentration, and how his lips curl up in a faint smile whenever he notices something beautiful in the scenery around you.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring until Steve catches your eye, his smile widening just a bit as he notices the slight blush creeping up your cheeks. You quickly look away, pretending to focus on the road ahead, but your heart betrays you, picking up a beat or two.

“You like what you see?” Steve begins, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence.

“You mean the scenery? Of course I do.”

Steve’s smile widens, the corners of his lips tugging upward in that knowing, playful way that makes your stomach flutter. He doesn’t press the point, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he caught your deflection. At this point, he finds your avoidance adorable, the way you pretend to be unfazed by his presence even though the subtle pink in your cheeks betrays you. It’s a game you’ve both been playing for months now—his persistence, your careful distance—but he never seems to tire of it.

His amusement lingers, as if he’s letting you have this small victory, even though you both know he’s winning the larger war. You can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer before he turns back to the road ahead, content to let you believe you’ve dodged the question, at least for now. He smiles to himself. He’s enjoying this quiet dance, the slow pull that keeps bringing you back to him closer each time, even if you don’t quite realize it yet.

There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes your chest tighten—you know exactly what it is, but you’re not sure you’re ready to confront it yet. But before you can dwell on it too long, Steve reaches over and gently places his hand on yours, his fingers warm against your skin.

You freeze for a moment, your breath catching in your throat as you feel the heat of his touch seep through you, spreading warmth through your entire body. You glance down at your hands, intertwined so easily, so naturally. 

Steve’s thumb brushes over your knuckles in a slow, soothing motion, and you realize he’s not letting go. He doesn’t say anything—he doesn’t have to. His touch says everything. It’s a silent promise, a reassurance that he’s here, and he’s not going anywhere.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the feeling overwhelming and yet somehow comforting. It’s a feeling you haven’t allowed yourself to experience in a long time—too afraid of the consequences, of the pain that might come with it.

× × × ×

The small grocery store in town is cozy, with wooden shelves lined with fresh produce, locally made jams, and all the essentials you’d expect in a quaint countryside market. The bell above the door jingles as you and Steve step inside, the familiar sound bringing a sense of warmth and nostalgia that makes you feel more at home than you’d care to admit.

You grab a basket and start weaving through the aisles, Steve trailing just a step behind you. The store is quiet, with only a few other customers browsing, giving the place an intimate, almost serene atmosphere.

“So, what’s on the list?” Steve asks, his voice light as he catches up to you.

You glance at him, pretending to mull it over. “Well, just the usual vegetables, dairy. Nothing too fancy.”

Clearly on board, he nods. “Anything in particular you want me to grab?”

“How about you handle the vegetables? Think you can manage that?” You give him a sidelong glance, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips.

“I think I can handle a few vegetables, yeah.”

Steve rolls his eyes playfully but nods, heading toward the produce section.

As he walks away, you can’t help but watch him for a moment, noting the way he moves with that effortless confidence that always manages to draw your attention. You shake your head, pushing the thought aside as you focus on gathering the other stuff on your list.

You pick out a loaf of fresh bread, some deli meats, and cheeses, carefully placing them in the basket. As you do, you can’t help but notice an older couple nearby, both of them smiling at you and Steve with a knowing look. You quickly avert your gaze, feeling your cheeks warm slightly. They probably think you’re a couple, and for a split second, the idea doesn’t seem so far-fetched.

You’re rummaging through a bin of ripe tomatoes when Steve returns, holding up a bunch of bright green spinach and some carrots with a triumphant grin. 

“Got the veggies. Anything else?”

You raise an eyebrow, giving the produce in his hands a critical look. “Spinach and carrots, huh? What about some cucumbers? Maybe a bell pepper or two?”

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll go get the cucumbers. Anything else while I’m at it, Your Majesty?”

You suppress a laugh, trying to maintain a straight face. “That should do… for now.”

Steve gives you a mock salute and heads off to fetch the cucumbers. You can’t help but smile as you watch him go, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. This is nice—this easy banter, the lightheartedness of it all. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this comfortable, this… happy.

You move on, grabbing a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice when Steve reappears beside you, holding the cucumbers and adding them to your basket. 

“Anything else, boss?” he asks, his tone teasing.

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the grin that tugs at your lips. “I think we’re good. Let's pay before you start shopping for the entire store.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help,” he says, following you to the register. “But if you want to take charge, I’ll gladly step back.”

You glance at him, playfully bumping your shoulder against his. “You’re just saying that because you know I’d out-shop you any day.”

Steve laughs, a warm, genuine sound that makes you feel giddy. “I have no doubt.”

At the register, the cashier, a friendly older woman, gives you both a warm smile as she starts ringing up your items. “You two make a lovely couple,” she says, her tone sweet and sincere.

You open your mouth to correct her, but Steve beats you to it, flashing her a charming smile. “Thank you,” he says smoothly, casting a quick wink in your direction. “We’re working on it.”

The cashier chuckles, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, from where I’m standing, you’re doing a pretty good job.”

Steve laughs softly, his boyish charm on full display. “I’ll take that as a good sign, then. Can never have too many votes of confidence, right?”

The older woman laughs heartily, clearly enjoying Steve’s playful banter. “With a smile like that, young man, I think you’re well on your way.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. Steve’s ability to charm his way through just about anything never ceases to amaze you.

You shoot him a look after though, fighting the blush that threatens to creep up your cheeks. “We’re… just friends,” you clarify, though your voice doesn’t sound as convincing as you’d like.

The cashier’s smile widens, and she nods knowingly. “Well, take your time, dear. These things have a way of working themselves out.”

You hand over the money, trying to keep your composure as the cashier finishes bagging your groceries. Steve is still grinning as he picks up the bags, and you can’t help but playfully swat at his arm.

“Careful, Rogers,” you warn, though there’s no real heat in your words. “Don’t get too cocky.”

He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Who, me? Never.”

After finishing up at the grocery store, Steve wanted to look around town since he's never gotten the chance before. The town is small and quaint, with narrow streets lined with charming shops and cafés. There’s a buzz of activity as locals go about their day, giving the place a lively, yet relaxed atmosphere.

You glance over at Steve, who’s holding the grocery bags with one hand, the other casually resting at his side. 

“So,” you say, tilting your head slightly, “You want to be dragged out here, and now you’re not in a rush to leave. . . what’s the plan, Rogers?”

Steve grins,“I thought maybe we could explore a bit. It’s been a while since we’ve just… wandered.”

“Wandered? That doesn’t sound like you.” You raise an eyebrow, amused by the idea.

“Hey,” he says with mock offense, “I’m perfectly capable of wandering. Besides, it’s a nice day. Thought it might be good to stick around for a while. Unless you’ve got something better to do?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Alright, fine. But you’re buying if we stop for coffee.”

Steve chuckles, nodding as he shifts the grocery bags to one hand. “Deal. Let’s drop these off in the car first.”

After placing the groceries in the trunk, you and Steve start down the street, falling into an easy rhythm as you stroll past the various shops and boutiques. The air is filled with the scent of fresh flowers from a nearby florist, mingling with the aroma of baked goods from a bakery a few doors down.

“This place reminds me of the old neighborhoods back in Brooklyn. Quiet, but with character.” Steve glances around, taking in the sights with a relaxed smile.

You nod, feeling a similar sense of nostalgia. “Yeah, it’s got that small-town charm. Easy to see why people like it here.”

As you walk, you come across a small bookshop with an inviting display in the window. Steve stops, his gaze lingering on the rows of books stacked inside. 

“Mind if we take a look?”

You follow his gaze, surprised by the request. “Didn’t peg you for a bookworm, Rogers.”

“I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Besides, you never know what you might find.” Steve shrugs, a sheepish grin on his face.

Curiosity piqued, you agreed, and the two of you stepped inside. The shop is cozy, with shelves that reach the ceiling and the comforting scent of old paper and ink. It’s quiet, with just a few other patrons browsing the aisles.

You wander through the store together, occasionally pointing out titles that catch your eye or laughing at the odd, outdated book covers. Steve seems particularly drawn to the history section, naturally, and you can’t help but tease him a little.

“History books?” you ask, leaning against a nearby shelf as he flips through a volume on World War II. “Seems a bit redundant, don’t you think?”

Steve glances up, chuckling. “Maybe. But it’s interesting to see how things have been written down. What they got right, what they didn’t. Helps me understand where we’re at now.”

You nod, understanding the sentiment. “I guess that makes sense. I’ve always thought you were a bit of a history nerd.”

“Guilty as charged,” he admits, slipping the book back onto the shelf. “But I’ve got other interests, too, you know.”

“Oh, really?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Like what?”

He gives you a playful look, and wiggles his brows, “I’ll have to show you sometime.”

Before you can respond, the shopkeeper approaches, a friendly smile on her face. “Can I help you find anything?”

Steve shakes his head politely. “Just browsing, thank you.”

The shopkeeper nods and leaves you to continue your exploration. As you move further into the store, you come across a small section dedicated to old records and vinyls. Steve’s face lights up at the sight, and you watch with amusement as he starts flipping through the collection.

“You’re really into this whole retro thing, aren’t you?” you comment, crossing your arms as you lean against a nearby shelf.

Steve looks up, a grin on his face. “It’s not retro for me. This was the stuff we grew up with.” He pulls out a record and holds it up for you to see. “Ever heard this one?”

You glance at the album cover, recognizing the classic design. “Once or twice. My parents were into it.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “I’ve got to introduce you to some real music, then.”

You roll your eyes, though you’re secretly enjoying the easy banter. “Please. Like you’ve got anything on my playlist.”

“Careful,” Steve warns playfully, tucking the record under his arm. “I might just take that as a challenge.”

You spend the next couple of hours exploring the town, visiting a few more shops, including a small bakery where Steve insists on buying you a pastry to share. 

At one point, you find yourselves at a small park on the edge of town, where children play on swings and an older couple feeds the ducks at a nearby pond. You sit on a bench, the comfortable silence between you filled with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant chatter.

Steve stares at you as you get lost deep in your thoughts. He takes note of the way your eyes seem to shimmer from the soft sunlight, the way you absently run your fingers through your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. The soft breeze ruffles your hair, and Steve watches as you close your eyes, breathing in the peaceful air of the park.

He can’t help but admire how much you’ve changed—stronger, quieter, more reflective—but still undeniably you. The way you sit there, unguarded, seems almost surreal to him, a glimpse into a version of you he hadn’t seen in so long. 

You shift slightly, pulling your knees up onto the bench and resting your chin on them, your eyes still far away, watching the ducks but not really seeing them. 

“You always think this hard?” Steve finally says, his voice low and playful, though there’s an undeniable softness to it.

You glance over at him, a small, almost shy smile pulling at the corner of your lips. “Sometimes. It’s hard not to when things actually slow down.”

He nods, understanding. “Yeah, I get that.”

There’s something unspoken between you, something that lingers in the air, but Steve doesn’t push it. Instead, he leans back on the bench, content to sit in the quiet with you, enjoying the simplicity of just being there. 

× × × ×

The sun has dipped low in the sky by the time you and Steve return home, the bags of groceries now resting on the kitchen counter. The day’s warmth lingers in the air, a gentle reminder of the easy, carefree hours you spent together wandering through town. 

You begin to unpack your ingredients for dinner, while Steve’s eyes catch your father’s old turntable.

“I can’t believe they had this,” he says, his voice tinged with nostalgia as he carefully places the vinyl of ‘You Belong to Me’ by Jo Stafford on the turntable. The record crackles softly as the needle touches down, and soon, the sultry, smooth sound of a saxophone fills the room. Its deep, rich notes float through the air, warm and lingering, wrapping themselves around you like a gentle embrace.

The saxophone’s melody is soft and slow, each note a whispered caress that draws you in closer. It feels like the sound itself is breathing, pulling you into its rhythm, evoking a feeling of quiet intimacy. The low, honeyed tones swell and dip, painting the room with a romantic warmth, setting the perfect mood for what’s to come. As the saxophone fades into the background, Jo Stafford’s voice soon follows, adding to the song’s haunting beauty. 

See the pyramids along the Nile...   Watch the sunrise on a tropic isle...   Just remember, darling, all the while...   You belong to me...

You freeze mid-motion, the knife hovering over a bell pepper as the first notes of the song play. The melody tugs at something deep inside you, pulling you back to another time, another place. A time when the world wasn’t as complicated, and when you and Steve were just two people who found solace in each other’s arms.

The music wraps around you like a warm blanket, and before you can fully process it, you feel Steve’s presence behind you. His hands gently slide around your waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt as if seeking permission before pulling you closer. You can feel the steady, comforting beat of his heart against your back, its rhythm syncing with the music.

He leans in, his breath warm against your neck, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “Do you remember?” he asks, the words soft, filled with memories of late nights and whispered promises.

You nod, your throat tightening with emotion. “How could I forget?” you whisper, setting the knife down on the cutting board, your hands trembling slightly as the music washes over you, bringing with it the bittersweet memories of the life you once had together.

See the marketplace in old Algiers...   Send me photographs and souvenirs...   Just remember when a dream appears...   You belong to me...

Steve’s arms tighten around you, and slowly, gently, he begins to sway to the rhythm of the song, guiding you in a dance that’s as familiar as breathing. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear as he hums along to the lyrics. The sound of his voice, so close and so familiar, sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself leaning into him, allowing yourself to be enveloped by his warmth, his presence.

“I’ve missed this,” Steve murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you surrender to the moment, the memories of your past flooding back with every note of the song. The nights you spent dancing in dimly lit rooms, the way he’d hold you close as if he was afraid to let you go, the way you’d fit so perfectly in his arms—it all comes rushing back, as vivid as if it were yesterday.

Without thinking, you turn in his arms, your hands coming up to rest against his chest. His blue eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best possible way. The song continues to play, the lyrics speaking of distant lands and the longing of two lovers separated by time and space, and it’s as if the song was written just for the two of you.

I’ll be so alone without you...   Maybe you’ll be lonesome too... and blue...

Steve’s hands move to your waist, holding you gently but firmly, his hand holding yours firmly above his heart, and he begins to guide you in a slow dance, his movements fluid and unhurried. There’s something so achingly familiar about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you, and you realize that despite everything that’s changed, this—this—feels the same.

You let out a soft, shaky breath as you settle into the dance, your bodies moving together as if no time had passed at all. You’re no longer in the present, no longer in this kitchen, but back in those simpler times, when it was just you and him against the world.

“You’re still a terrible dancer,” you tease, though your voice is filled with affection rather than criticism, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Steve chuckles, the sound vibrating through your chest where it’s pressed against his. “At least I had a pretty good partner,” he counters, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mix of amusement and adoration.

You roll your eyes, though your smile widens as you lean into him, resting your head against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear is a comforting lullaby, grounding you in the here and now, while the music transports you both back to the past.

Fly the ocean in a silver plane...  See the jungle when it’s wet with rain...   Just remember till you’re home again...   You belong to me...

As the lyrics weave their way into your heart, you feel a lump form in your throat, emotions swirling within you that you’ve tried so hard to bury. But here, in Steve’s arms, it’s impossible to keep them at bay. The song’s gentle melody tugs at your heartstrings, each note a reminder of what you once had, what you lost, and what you might be able to find again.

Steve’s hand gently tilts your chin up, and you find yourself staring into those familiar blue eyes—eyes that have seen too much, but still hold a depth of love and understanding that makes your breath catch. He’s so close, his face inches from yours, and you can see the unspoken love in his gaze, the promises he’s made and the ones he’s ready to make again.

“My love for you has never wavered,” Steve whispers, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “Not for a single heartbeat, not even when I believed you were lost to me forever.”

Your heart clenches at his words, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You’ve been so afraid of letting yourself feel again, of letting him back in, but here in this moment, it’s impossible to deny the truth. 

“Steve, I…” you start but you’re afraid, terrified even, of opening up again, of risking the pain that comes with loving someone so deeply. But as his thumb gently brushes against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

Fly the ocean in a silver plane...   See the jungle when it’s wet with rain...   Just remember till you’re home again...   You belong to me...

Steve leans in, his forehead resting against yours. It’s just you and him, swaying to the music, breathing in sync, hearts beating as one. The song fades into the background, but the melody lingers in your mind, echoing the sentiment that has always been there, even when you tried to ignore it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve says quietly, his voice a promise, a vow. “I lost you once, and I’m not going to let that happen again. We can take it slow, one day at a time. I’m here, and I’m not giving up.”

You search his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but all you find is love—the same love that’s always been there, even when you tried to push it away. 

You nod slowly, allowing yourself to lean into his touch, to let him hold you a little closer. “One day at a time,” you repeat, your voice steadier now. 

Steve smiles, a soft, relieved smile that makes your heart flutter. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Oh, you belong to me...

The final notes of the song fade into silence, but neither of you moves. You remain in each other’s arms, swaying to a rhythm only the two of you can hear. It’s a moment of pure, unadulterated connection—one that feels like it could last forever.

Steve presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if sealing the vow he’s just made. “I love you,” he whispers against your skin, the words soft but full of conviction. 

Your breath hitches at the confession, and you feel the last of your defenses crumble. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, your heart pounding against his as you finally allow yourself to speak the words you’ve been holding back for so long.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but full of truth. 

Steve’s eyes light up at your words, the relief and happiness that wash over his face making your heart swell with emotion. He cups your face in his hands, his touch tender as if you’re something fragile and precious. He looks at you like you’re the only person in the world, his eyes tracing every feature of your face as if committing this moment to memory.

Steve’s smile is soft and full of love, his thumbs brushing away the tears that have gathered at the corners of your eyes. 

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of your emotions start to lift. The years of distance, the pain of separation, it all seems to melt away in his arms. You don’t know what the future holds, but at this moment, you know that you’re ready to try.

When you open your eyes, Steve is still looking at you with that same unwavering love, and you can’t help but smile—a real, genuine smile that feels like the first in a long time.

He bows his head, giving you every chance to pull away, but you don’t . His fingers tightened on your  waist. You rose onto your toes to kiss him. He met you halfway, unable to contain his groan as he hauled you against him, lips finding yours in a kiss that is soft and slow. It’s like coming home, a feeling of rightness that you didn’t know you were missing until this very moment. 

The kiss deepens, his arms wrapping around you tighter, pulling you against him as if he’s afraid to let you go. You kiss him back with the same fervor, pouring all your emotions into the connection—your love, your longing, your hope for what’s to come.

When you finally pull back, breathless and slightly dizzy, Steve rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a look of pure contentment on his face.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, his voice a mix of awe and gratitude.

“I know,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as if grounding yourself in the reality of this moment.

Steve opens his eyes, his gaze locking onto yours, and you can see the promise of a future there—a future that’s bright and filled with the kind of love that can withstand anything.

He doesn’t say anything more, just holds you close, swaying gently to the memory of the music that played. The world outside could be crumbling, but in his arms, you feel safe, cherished, and loved.

As you continue to sway together, you let yourself sink into the feeling, knowing that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

Because for the first time in a long time, you’re not just Y/N, and he’s not just Steve. You’re you and him, together, just as it was always meant to be. And this time, you’re determined to hold on tight and never let go.

The day fades into night, the record continues to spin on the turntable, the needle caught in the loop of silence, but it doesn’t matter. The only sound you need is the steady beat of his heart against yours, and the whispered words that pass between you, promises of a love that’s been rekindled and is ready to burn brighter than ever.

× × × ×

2 years later

The sky above is a pale blue, streaked with soft wisps of clouds, as the rhythmic sound of waves gently crashing on the shore fills the air. The late afternoon sun hangs low, casting a golden hue over the entire beach, warming the sand beneath your feet and making the water sparkle like diamonds. The beach is quiet, save for the occasional call of seagulls and the laughter that bubbles up between the three of you.

Steve stands a little distance away, his feet sinking into the soft sand, his arms stretched out with an encouraging smile on his face. The wind tousled his hair, and there’s a light in his eyes that speaks of pure joy—something you’ve both learned to treasure over the past few years. 

You’re on the other side of the beach, standing behind your 12-month-old son, who wobbles slightly on his unsteady legs, holding onto your fingers for balance. His tiny toes curl in the warm sand, and you can feel the soft tremble of excitement coursing through him. He’s learning, taking his first independent steps, and the world ahead seems so vast and new.

Steve crouches down, his voice warm and filled with love as he gently calls out, “Come on, Zac. You can do it. Walk to Daddy.”

The baby giggles, his joyful laughter filling the air like music. His wide eyes are bright with curiosity and delight as he looks from you to Steve. With your gentle guidance, he lets go of your fingers, standing shakily on his own for a moment before his legs take their first wobbly steps forward. The tiny footprints he leaves behind in the sand are scattered, small, and sweet—each one next to the larger, steady prints that mark your path.

Steve’s encouraging words fill the space between you, his hands outstretched, waiting with uncontainable pride as your son inches closer, his baby steps unsteady but determined. “That’s it, buddy. You’ve got this!”

Another burst of laughter escapes the little one as he toddles forward, his arms swinging with each step, and the beach feels alive with the shared joy. The warmth of the sun, the gentle breeze, and the soft sand beneath your feet make this moment feel endless, a perfect snapshot of happiness.

When your son stumbles, landing softly on his bottom, he lets out a surprised squeal before bursting into laughter, as if falling is the funniest thing in the world. You can’t help but smile, your heart swelling at the sight of his unbridled happiness.

Steve chuckles, walking over to scoop him up into his arms, his own footprints mingling with yours and the tiny ones left behind by your son. 

“You did great, buddy,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Look at how far you went!”

The baby babbles happily, reaching up to tug at Steve’s hair with a bright, toothy grin, his cheeks flushed pink from the excitement and the warm breeze. You step closer, watching the two of them with a fond smile, your heart overflowing with love.

Steve’s gaze shifts from the tiny, joyful bundle in his arms to you as you walk toward him, the soft sand shifting beneath your feet. His smile grows, gentle and full of love, as he watches you approach, the golden light of the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow around you. There’s a quiet admiration in his eyes, a look that speaks of everything he feels but doesn’t need to say.

As you reach them, Steve cradles your son in one arm, his other hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch is soft, tender, and his eyes linger on yours for a moment before they drop back to the baby, who is still babbling in Steve’s arms.

“You two are my whole world,” Steve says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He pulls you both closer, and for a moment, everything feels perfectly aligned—the sound of the waves, the warmth of the sun, and the three of you standing together in the sand, surrounded by nothing but love.

× × × ×

BUCKY'S THEREABOUTS : UNTITLED SEQUEL TO LAZARUS SERUM 

(3 months after disappearing)

As he neared the farm, he heard raised voices cutting through the calm. Bucky slowed his steps, his instincts kicking in. Y/N was standing near the barn, facing off with a man—a tall, well-dressed figure, clearly angry. Bucky hung back, observing the heated exchange.

The man’s voice was loud, sharp with frustration. “I’m done with this place, Y/N. I’m not sticking around for another second.”

Y/N’s posture was stiff, her arms crossed defensively, but Bucky could see the hurt behind her steady gaze. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

The man threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t owe you anything. I’ve wasted enough time here, pretending this farm and you meant something to me.”

The words hit hard, Bucky could tell, but Y/N didn’t flinch. She stood her ground, even as the man turned and stormed toward the road, where Bucky stood in silence.

“Move,” the man barked, shoving Bucky’s shoulder in a fit of anger as he passed.

Bucky didn’t move an inch.

The man paused, his face twisting with irritation as he sized Bucky up. He shoved again, this time harder, as if expecting a reaction—something he could work with. Still, Bucky didn’t flinch, his body rigid, his eyes locked onto the man with a cold, steely glare. 

Don’t, Bucky told himself, his fists tightening at his sides. The Winter Soldier instincts flared instantly, sharp and reflexive, urging him to retaliate. To end this man’s feeble attempt at intimidation with one swift move. He could do it. He could make him crumble, and the urge to let that side of himself out—to let the man feel just how much danger he was in—was strong.

But something stopped him.

Bucky’s eyes flicked to Y/N, standing a few feet away, watching. Her expression was unreadable, but she was watching him. Waiting to see what he would do. He could feel her presence like a weight on his chest, grounding him. Reminding him that this wasn’t about him. This wasn’t a fight he needed to win.

Slowly, Bucky released the tension in his fists, his knuckles relaxing as he forced the cold, calculating side of himself to retreat. He blinked, his eyes softening just enough to pull back from that edge. This wasn’t worth it. The man wasn’t worth it.

“What the hell is your problem?” the man spat, taking a step back. His face reddened as he realized Bucky wasn’t intimidated—wasn’t even acknowledging his threats.

Bucky said nothing. He didn’t need to. 

Embarrassed, the man shot a glance back at Y/N. “So that’s it, huh? You already found yourself a new man? Was this the plan all along? You throw me away, and you’ve got this—this guy waiting in the wings?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No, it’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the strain of his embarrassment. “I should’ve known! You were just waiting for me to leave so you could run to someone else.”

Y/N stepped forward, anger now coloring her words. “You’re the one walking away. Don’t blame me for your insecurities.”

The man sneered, glancing back at Bucky with a bitter laugh. “Good luck with him. Hope he’s everything you wanted.”

Without waiting for a response, the man sped down the road in his car, disappearing around the bend. Bucky watched him go, his expression unreadable, before finally turning his attention to Y/N.

She stood frozen for a moment, her arms still crossed, her face flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation. When she met Bucky’s eyes, she sighed, her tough exterior softening just a little.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said quietly, though there was no real anger in her voice.

Bucky shrugged, keeping his gaze steady. “Didn’t do anything.”

Y/N gave a small, tired laugh, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, well… thanks for not doing anything, I guess.”

There was a beat of silence between them before Bucky spoke again, his voice low but certain. “You alright?”

Y/N hesitated, then nodded. “I will be.”

Bucky didn’t push her for more, but something in her eyes told him this wasn’t the first time she’d been left to deal with someone else’s mess. He glanced down the road where her ex had disappeared, then back at her.

× × × ×

Later that evening, the farmhouse was warm with the smell of roasted chicken and vegetables. Bucky sat at the kitchen table, his eyes observing the space while Y/N finished setting out plates. It was a simple, cozy setup, but it had been a long time since Bucky had felt comfortable enough to sit down and share a meal with someone.

Y/N placed the last dish on the table and took her seat across from him. She glanced at him for a moment, studying his calm demeanor before digging into her food.

“Figured you earned this after all your help today,” she said with a small smile. “Didn’t think you’d stick around.”

Bucky shrugged slightly, his voice low as he spoke. “Didn’t see a reason to leave.”

They ate quietly for a few minutes, the clatter of forks on plates the only sound between them. Y/N glanced up at him again, noticing how quiet he was, his face always unreadable, as though there was a world behind his eyes that he kept hidden. 

She took a sip of her drink and finally broke the silence. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

Bucky paused, meeting her eyes for a moment before looking back down at his plate. “Not much to say.”

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re an odd one, James. Most people who come through here have plenty to say, but not you.”

Bucky looked at her, his expression neutral but with a hint of curiosity. “That a bad thing?”

She shrugged, smiling as she stabbed at a piece of chicken. “Nah. I don’t mind. Just not used to the silence, I guess. But… it’s kind of nice.”

He gave her a small nod, appreciating the fact that she didn’t push for more. The conversation lulled again, comfortable and easy. It was rare for Bucky to find himself in a situation like this—quiet, but not tense. Peaceful, almost.

“So, how’s Seamus treating you?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence once again.

Bucky’s lips tugged into a faint smile. “Seamus is fine. Grumpy, but fine.”

Y/N laughed lightly, the sound filling the kitchen. “That’s his charm. He’s stubborn, but once he likes you, you’re stuck with him.”

Bucky nodded, the ghost of a smile lingering on his face. “Sounds familiar.” referring to himself.

They continued eating, talking about the day’s work and the rhythm of life on the farm. As the last bit of food disappeared from their plates, Bucky stood up and gathered the dishes without saying a word, walking over to the sink. 

Y/N watched him for a moment, her eyebrow raised. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Bucky just shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Y/N stood up, grabbing a towel as she moved to his side. “Alright, but if you’re washing, I’m drying.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes, Bucky washing the dishes with a quiet efficiency while Y/N wiped them dry and placed them back in the cabinets. Every so often, she glanced at him, still curious about the quiet man who seemed to carry so much on his shoulders.

“You know,” she said, breaking the silence, “there’s something calming about all this quiet. Feels... different.”

Bucky didn’t look up, but there was a softness in his voice when he finally responded. “Different’s not always bad.”

Y/N smiled at that, feeling a strange sense of connection in the simplicity of their shared silence. As they finished the last dish, Y/N leaned against the counter, towel slung over her shoulder. “You’re a good guy, James. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

Bucky looked at her then, his eyes shadowed with something deeper, something unspoken. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I’m. . . trying.”

She nodded, not pushing for more, and turned to head back to the table. “Same time tomorrow?”

Bucky gave her a small nod. “Yeah. Same time.”

As he made his way toward the door, Y/N called after him, her voice softer. “Goodnight, James.”

Bucky paused, turning back to meet her eyes one last time. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

With that, he slipped outside into the cool evening air, the door closing softly behind him.

[deliquescentnightmare]

Easy Come Easy Go~ CH 2

~A degree in not taking anyone's bullshit~

As they walked towards the house, the group was approached by a blue-clad man.

“Anderson, here we are again, '' Sherlock said sarcastically.

“This is a crime scene. I don’t want it contaminated. Are we clear?”

“Quite clear, and is your wife away for long?”

“Don’t pretend you worked that out. Someone told you that,”

“My deodorant?”

“It’s for men,”

“Of course it’s for men, I’m wearing it,”

“So is sergeant Donovan,” Sherlock proclaimed dramatically and Delila sighed, rolling her eyes, “Phew, and I think it just vaporised, may I go in?”

“Now, whatever you’re trying to imply,”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m sure Sally came ‘round for a nice little chat and just happened to stay over,'' Sherlock brushed by them, pausing at the top of the stairs to look down his nose as Anderson, face barely hiding his triumphant joy, “And I’m assuming she scrubbed your floors going by the state of her knees,”

“I-“ Donovan and Anderson were both rendered speecess by this. Sherlock vanished inside and John sidled past them, clearly feeling the secondhand embarrassment of the encounter, limp extremely pronounced as he struggled up the stoop. Delila glided past the adulterous duo, amusement clear on her face as she followed the two men inside. They’d gone further into the hallway and Delila took her time to take in the surroundings, and she could hear them talking in the hallway.

“Who’s this?” Lestrade’s voice floated down the hallway.

“He’s with me,”

“Yeah but who is he?”

“I said he’s with me,”

“Is this a bad time, boys?” She asked from where she leaned in the doorway, eyebrows raised.

“Ye- Delila?!?!? What on earth are you doing here?” Lestrade looked as if he’d seen a ghost- mildly panicked and extremely confused.

“Ah, hello again,” the tallest of the group remarked as he turned to look at his blonde companion again.

“But… You’re not due until the 16th!!’” Lestrade exclaimed

“Doctor Watson, what is today’s date?” Delila asked the blonde, turning to him as well.

“February 17th,”

“…oh,” Lestrade looked sheepishly to the side, “I- uh..”

“Missed picking me up from my flight? Missed most of my calls? Left me alone in a city I didn’t know?” Delila asked amusedly before crossing the room to kiss him on the cheek, “Apology accepted. Now, onto the other reason I’m here. Do you need some help?”

“...We might, actually. Um, Sherlock, this is-“

“Your daughter, Delila Lestrade. Yes I am aware. Now, where are we?”

“Upstairs. Delila, you can tag along. Do you have gloves in that little bag of yours?”

“Always,”

“Wait, does she even have jurisdiction here?” John asked.

“Well, do you?” She remarked, not looking at him as they climbed the stairs.

“Erm, I don’t think so,”

“I can give you guys 2 minutes,”

“May need longer,”

“The name’s Jennifer Wilson, according to the credit cards. We’re running them now for contact details. Hasn’t been here long, some kids found her.”

“Did she have anything with her? She looks to be dressed for travel, and rain. Umbrella or a purse maybe?” Delila asked, taking in her surroundings as they came to the top of the stairs.

“Not much, she had her wallet, and an umbrella in her pocket,”

“That’s odd….” Delila murmured. They fell silent, and Delila reached into her small blue purse to retrieve a pair of black latex gloves. She pulled them on, sanitised her hands, and then watched as Sherlock started to inspect the body. It was silent for a long minute.

“Shut up,”

“I- uh nobody said anything!”

“You were thinking, it’s annoying,” Sherlock remarked and Delila scoffed in amusement. He looked up and narrowed his eyes, brows slightly furrowed.

“Something funny?”

“Nothing, you’re just… different than I expected,”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re peculiar, can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing yet,” Delila replied, not breaking eye contact. He huffed and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and typing away at it.

“Well, what have you got?”

“Not much,”

“She’s German, rache, German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us-” Sherlock shut the door before Anderson could finish.

“Yes, thank you for your input,”

“So she’s German?”

“You’re kidding,” Delila gave her father a deadpan look.

“What?”

“Of course she’s not German.” She replied with a sigh.

“She is from out of town though. Planned to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff. So far so obvious,”

“Sorry, obvious?”

“But the message-” Lestrade insisted.

“Dr. Watson, what do you think?”

“Of the message?” John asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“Of the body, you’re a medical man,”

“What? No! I’ve got a whole team outside,” Lestrade broke in.

“They won’t work with me,”

“I’m breaking every rule letting you in here,”

“Yes, because you need me,” Sherlock leveled Lestrade with a serious stare and the latter let out a disgruntled sigh.

“You’re right. I do. God help me,” he admitted after a moment.

“Well I’m not quite god, but you did bring me along for this reason, no?”

“Oh... uh-yeah. Sherlock, Delila has a degree in forensic science,”

“I’d be happy to offer my expertise, Mr Holmes,”

“I suppose you’ll do, Miss Lestrade,” Sherlock replied dismissively.

“Doctor, actually. I didn’t waste away amongst the religious southern zealots at Duke university for nothing,” Delila approached the body and set to work.

“Anderson, keep everyone out for a couple of minutes,” Lestrade disappeared and John leaned closer to his companion.

“Well what am I doing here?” John whispered.

“You were supposed to be helping helping me make a point,”

“I’m supposed to be helping you pay rent,”

“Well this is more fun,”

“Fun? There’s a woman lying dead!”

“Perfectly astute observation, Dr. Watson,” Delila remarked, peeling off her gloves, “But there’s more to it than that. Asphyxiation, fell unconscious and choked to death on her own puke… Likely one of those suicides that the Yard’s been investigating, based on the timing and the fact that there are no outward signs of drugs or alcohol. Citrus smell around the mouth is exceptionally strong, likely going to be stronger when her stomach is opened,” Delila pushed her glasses up on her nose, “I’ve got more to say, but I’ll leave the rest to Mr. Holmes and his- what did it say on the website again..? Oh yes- deductions,”

“Alright. What’ve you got?” Lestrade asked before the smartass brunette could comment.

“The victim is in her late 30’s, a professional person going by her clothes, something in the media going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Married for at least 10 years but not happily, she had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married,”

“Are you just making this up?”

“Her wedding ring, dad. Her jewelry is clean but her wedding ring is dirty and beaten. She cleans everything but the ring, so obviously it doesn’t mean much to her-” Delila explained, “Or...uh it didn’t mean much to her,”

“Not just that. The inside of her ring is clean. It’s regularly removed but not for polishing. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. Look at her nails, she doesn’t work with her hands. So what or who does she take it off for? Certainly not one lover, she’d never be able to sustain the illusion of being single for that long. Simple really,”

“That’s brilliant!”

“Agreed, Dr. Watson,” Delila tilted her head to the side, “The fact that you can perceive all of that in a matter of minutes. Have you officially tested your IQ or-?”

“Delila, focus!” Lestrade snapped and Delila flushed slightly.

“Sorry, continue,” She said sheepishly, looking away, balling up her gloves and putting them in her purse.

“You said she’s from Cardiff,”

“It’s obvious isn’t it?”

“Not to me..”

“It has to do with her jacket, yes? Like I said earlier? She’s dressed for travel. It’s wet along the underside of the collar and along the back. I’ve been around London all day just wandering and there hasn’t been a drop of rain.”

“You’re not as dumb as everyone else. Yes. Her coat is still wet so she can’t have travelled more than 2-3 hours. Because the inside of her collar is dry it means she’s turned it up against the wind. Strong wind that had to be over 15 kilometers per hour, otherwise she would’ve used her umbrella. Strong wind, heavy rains, 2-3 hour travel time. Cardiff. Simple,”

“That’s fantastic!”

“Do you realise you say that out loud?”

“Sorry I’ll shut up,”

“No.. it’s fine,”

“Cardiff… Media. Shouldn’t she have a suitcase? She seems fashion forward,” Delila asked

“Overnight bag maybe?” John suggested.

“Suitcase, yes she had one. Where is it then? What have you done with it?”

“How do you know she had a case?”

“Small splash marks along the heel and calf, small bag going by the spread. Wouldn’t get this pattern any other way.”

“Well, hate to break it to you but there isn’t a case,”

“Say that again?”

“There wasn’t a case, sherlock. There was never any case,”

“Suitcase! Has anyone seen a suitcase?!? Was there a suitcase in this house?!?”

“Sherlock there wasn’t any case!”

“They take the poison themselves, they chew, swallow the pills themselves. Clear signs- even you lot couldn’t miss them!”

“Yeah thanks, and?”

“....Murder?”

“Don’t know how just yet, but they’re killings. All of them, serial killings. We’ve got ourselves a serial killer; god I love those, always something to look forward to. Serial killers are hard though, you have to wait for them to make a mistake,”

“We can’t just wait!”

“We’re done waiting. Don’t you see? Houston we have a mistake,”

“What mistake?”

“Her case! Where is her case? Did she eat it?”

“Oh. Someone else was here, took her luggage. That means the killer had to have driven her here! Forgot they had it?”

“-oh! OH! Phone to Cardiff, find out who Jennifer Wilson’s family and friends were! Find Rachel!”

“What mistake?”

“Pink!”

“Well, isn’t that clever?”

“What is?”

“They’re abductions, obviously,”

“Obviously,” Anderson sneered, “Great, another one,”

“Shut up, Anderson,” Lestrade snapped and Anderson gave an offended look to the Detective Inspector. John stared after them for a long moment after the two men disappeared.

“Don’t get yourself all worked up over him, John. Shall we?” She gestured down the stairs.

“I guess we shall,”

“Would you happen to want to grab a cup of coffee or something? I don’t drink, so that’s the best I can offer you,”

“That sounds nice, actually,”

“Was he your ride?”

“Well, a cab was my ride, but he’s the one who called it,” John replied and Delila laughed. As they left the building a voice called out.

“He’s gone,”

“Sherlock Holmes?”

“Yeah, he just took off, he does that,”

“Likely he’s not coming back then?”

“Doesn’t look like it,”

“Right… erm-”

“Well, we’re in Brixton, yeah? Any idea where we could hail a taxi?”

“Try the main road,”

“Thanks,” Delila held the tape up and john ducked underneath.

“But you’re not his friend. He doesn’t have friends,” Donovan said to John, “So who are you?”

“Nobody, I’m nobody. I- uh- I just met him,”

“I assume the same goes for you, whoever you are?” she asked Delila.

“I’d say it’s none of your business, but obviously you have something to say so go ahead”

“Just a bit of advice, you both. Stay away from that guy,”

“Why, exactly?”

“You know why he’s here?”

“It’s his job?”

“He’s not paid or anythin’. He likes it, he gets off on it, The weirder the crime, the more he gets off,”

“Says the officer in the homicide division,”

“-as I was saying. Be careful, because one day showing up just won’t be enough for him. One day we’ll be standing ‘round a body and Sherlock Holmes will be the one who put it there,”

“You’re telling us this, why?”

“Because he’s a psychopath, and psychopaths get bored,”

“Bravo. Stunning psychoanalysis, Sergeant,”

“Excuse me?”

“Bit of advice for you too, Sally. Stick to the dead people. Obviously the living ones are too complex for you to wrap your head around,”

“Delila! You’re- um- still here?”

“Yes, sorry. I was suffering through your Sergeant’s cookie-cutter judgements,”

“...Right. Do try to be nice to my officers, Delila. They’re the best I’ve got,”

“You could do better. Anyways, I’m going out for coffee with Dr Watson. Call me if you need me. Or actually, just remember to actually call me period.”

“I will, I promise. Donovan, come on,”

“Coming,”

“So then, coffee?”

“I think I saw a small café on Baker street. I know the owner,”

“I have zero idea where baker street is, but lead the way,”

[sciencespies]

To Boost Black Men in Medicine, Advocates Turn to Sports

https://sciencespies.com/nature/to-boost-black-men-in-medicine-advocates-turn-to-sports/

To Boost Black Men in Medicine, Advocates Turn to Sports

Emily Laber-Warren, Undark

Aaron Bolds didn’t consider becoming a physician until he tore a ligament in his knee while playing in a basketball tournament when he was 15. His orthopedic surgeon was Black, and they hit it off. “He was asking me how my grades were, and I told him, ‘I’m a straight-A student,’ and he was, like, ‘Man, this is a great fallback plan if basketball doesn’t work out,’” recalls Bolds, who is African American.

“He looked like me,” Bolds says, “and that was even more encouraging.” 

If not for that chance encounter, Bolds, 34, a doctor at Mount Sinai Health System in New York, might never have gone into medicine, he says. When he was growing up, there were no physicians in his family or extended social network to model that career path. And at the schools he attended, he says, his aptitude for science didn’t trigger the kind of guidance young people often receive in more privileged contexts.

What Bolds did get attention for was his athletic ability. He got a full basketball scholarship to Lenoir-Rhyne University in North Carolina, where his team won a conference championship. But when he transferred to Bowie State University in Maryland, where he also played basketball, an academic adviser discouraged his pre-med ambitions, Bolds recalls, saying his grades were low and he lacked research experience.

Bolds is not alone in finding in athletics a fraught lever of educational opportunity. Whereas Black players comprise more than half the football and basketball teams at the 65 universities in the top five athletic conferences, and bring in millions of dollars for their schools year after year, the graduation rates for Black male college athletes are significantly lower — 55 percent as compared to 69 percent for college athletes overall — according to a 2018 report from the USC Race and Equity Center. Many Black college athletes end up without either a professional sports contract or a clear career path. 

Now some educators and advocates are looking to reverse this trend by connecting sports, an area in which African American men are overrepresented, and medicine, where the opposite is true. As of 2018, 13 percent of the U.S. population, but just 5 percent of doctors — according to the Association of American Medical Colleges — identified as Black or African American. (The AAMC data notes that an additional 1 percent of doctors identified as multiracial.) Decades of efforts to increase diversity at medical schools have made progress with other demographics, including Black women — but barely any with Black men. “No other demographic group is broken down with such a large split between men and women,” says Jo Wiederhorn, president and CEO of the Associated Medical Schools of New York. “And none of them have stayed stagnant, like that group has.”

According to data the AAMC provided to Undark, the proportion of Black men enrolling in medical school hasn’t changed much since 1978 — with only some headway being made in the past few years.

The absence of Black male medical professionals ripples across the health system, experts say, contributing to widespread health disparities. African Americans tend to be diagnosed later than White people with everything from cancer to kidney disease, leading to more advanced disease and earlier deaths. Meanwhile, a recent study suggests that Black men who see Black male doctors may be more likely to follow medical advice. Other research also suggests that racially concordant care, in which patients and doctors have a shared identity, is associated with better communication and a greater likelihood to use health services.

“We are in a crisis point, nationally,” says Reginald Miller, the dean for research operations and infrastructure at Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai. “I don’t think it’s a stretch to suggest that the health of communities of color are directly proportional to the number of practitioners available to see,” he says. “It’s just that straightforward.”

Last year, the National Medical Association, a professional organization representing African American physicians, embarked with the AAMC on a joint effort to address the structural barriers to advancement for Black men. “We need to look at this with a unique lens,” says Norma Poll-Hunter, senior director of workforce diversity at the AAMC.

There is no single solution to such an entrenched and multifaceted problem, Poll-Hunter says. According to her, some medical schools have adopted a holistic admissions process that evaluates many personal factors rather than relying on standardized test scores, which can exclude promising Black candidates. In addition, she says, students of color need better access to high-quality K-12 science education, particularly in under-resourced public schools. “There are a lot of barriers that exist early on,” she notes, “and that then creates this narrowing of the pathway to medicine.”

But the novel strategy of wooing athletes is slowly gaining traction. Advocates point out that high-performing athletes possess many of the skills and attributes that doctors, psychologists, physical therapists, and other medical professionals need — things like focus, a commitment to excellence, time management, and problem-solving skills, as well as the ability to take constructive criticism and perform under pressure.

“When you say, ‘What’s your ideal medical student?’ it’s not just a kid who’s academically gifted. It’s a kid who’s got resilience, attention to detail, knows how to work on the team,” Miller says. “Because science and medicine are team sports.” And by virtue of being athletes, these young men are already attuned to nutrition, fitness, and other aspects of human biology.

Two former NFL players, Nate Hughes and Myron Rolle, recently became physicians. And there is evidence that competitive sports experience contributes to medical success. A 2012 study of doctors training to become ear, nose, and throat specialists at Washington University, for example, found that having excelled in a team sport was more predictive of how faculty rated their quality as a clinician than strong letters of recommendation or having attended a highly-ranked medical school. Likewise, a 2011 study found that having an elite skill, such as high-achieving athletics, was more predictive of completing a general surgery residency than medical school grades.

Advocates of the athletics-to-medicine pipeline point out its practicality. Thousands of Black men are already in college, or headed there, on athletic scholarships. It would only take a small percentage of them choosing medical careers to boost the percentage of Black male doctors to better reflect the proportion of African American men in the general population, they say.

No one thinks it will be easy. One obstacle, advocates say, is a lack of role models. Black sports celebrities are household names, but some young athletes may never encounter a Black medical professional. “People don’t believe they can become what they don’t see,” says Mark R. Brown, the athletic director at Pace University.

And for the best chance of success, many say, these young men need to form and pursue medical aspirations as young as possible, along with their athletic training. “Those kids who are able to do both, the rewards at the end are enormous,” Miller says. But the adults in their lives may not believe the dual path is possible. “The second that a kid says to a science teacher or someone else that he’s an athlete,” Miller says, “they go into a different category. ‘They’re not really serious about science and medicine, they’re just here, and so I don’t expect this kid to really achieve.’”

Rigid course and practice schedules also make it challenging for busy athletes to undertake demanding and time-intensive science majors, observers say. What’s needed is “a cultural change, and not just a cultural change with the athletes. It’s a cultural change with the whole structure,” Miller says. “Everybody’s excited about the idea” of the physician athlete, he adds, “because it makes sense. But when the rubber hits the road, it is challenging.”

Donovan Roy, the assistant dean for diversity and inclusiveness at the Western Michigan University Homer Stryker M.D. School of Medicine, was one of the first people to envision the potential of directing Black athletes toward medical careers.

Roy, 48, who is Black and a former college football player, grew up in the working class, primarily Black and Latino community of Inglewood, California. Attending an elite private high school on a football scholarship was eye-opening. He vividly remembers the first time he ever saw a walk-in pantry, at a friend’s home. “It was stocked like a convenience store,” he recalls. “Five different types of Hostess, Ding-Dongs, sodas, every type of snack that you ever wanted.” Equally startling was speaking with another friend’s mother, who was a lawyer. “I’d never seen a road map to success in my community,” he says.

Roy’s athletic talent continued to open doors — at 18 he got a scholarship to the University of Southern California — but poorly prepared by the under-resourced public schools he had attended through ninth grade, he struggled academically, and left both USC and later another university that he also attended on an athletic scholarship.

Eventually Roy found his footing, and when he did, he became a learning specialist. After working through his own academic struggles, he wanted to help others with theirs. Roy took a job as a learning skills counselor at UCLA’s medical school. There he helped the students who were struggling with classes like anatomy and genetics. In early 2015, he returned to USC as the director of academic support services at Keck School of Medicine.

Something Roy noticed at both these medical schools stuck with him, though it would take a few years for the observation to crystallize. A certain kind of student sought help despite, by ordinary standards, not needing it. These were the athletes, and many of them were Black or Latino. “They always talked about, ‘How can I excel? How can I get better?’” he recalls. They “were getting 90s and they wanted to be 100.”

Roy began a doctoral program in education in 2015, the same year the AAMC published a damning report about the lack of Black men entering medical school. This was a crisis Roy understood both personally and professionally. For his dissertation, he decided to interview 16 Black male students at Keck School of Medicine. What was it about them, he wanted to understand, that had gotten them there against all odds?

The answer, he discovered, was what academics call social capital. For medical students from privileged backgrounds, social capital might take the form of a family friend who arranges a summer internship at a biotechnology lab, or a well-funded high school that offers advanced placement science classes. The young men Roy interviewed did not, for the most part, have access to those sorts of resources.

“Growing up, I didn’t see a Black male with a college degree until I got to college,” medical student Jai Kemp said in a separate interview Roy conducted for a documentary he’s making on the topic. The social capital these young men leveraged to get to medical school took the form of parental support, science enrichment programs and clubs, peer social networks, faculty mentors — and the perks that come with athletics. “For me it was just sports that got me through,” Kemp said.

The pieces started to fit together. Roy knew from his own experience all the benefits athletes get, not just entrée to educational institutions, but travel, enrichment, and academic advantages like tutoring and early class registration. Athletes also tend to possess social cachet on campus and, with more exposure to different types of people, may feel comfortable in environments that seem foreign and forbidding to other young people from disadvantaged backgrounds. Roy also recalled the drive for academic excellence he had observed in the athletes who came to his tutoring programs. “I got this epiphany,” he says. “Why don’t we look at student athletes in order to increase Black males’ representation in medicine, because they have the most social capital and the most network on predominantly White campuses.”

Donovan Roy at the Western Michigan University Homer Stryker M.D. School of Medicine, where he is now the assistant dean for diversity and inclusiveness. While working on his doctoral degree, Roy interviewed Black men in medical school and discovered one key to their success: social capital.

Mark Bugnaski

But when Roy began talking to his medical school colleagues about recruiting athletes, who according to a report from the Center for American Progress — a liberal think tank — make up 16 percent of Black male college students receiving athletic aid in the Big 12 athletic conference, he says most weren’t receptive to the idea. The same thing happened when he got up the nerve to make the suggestion publicly at a 2018 conference in Orlando, Florida. The idea ran against type. “I think people tend to lump athletes into this box,” he says. “They just think that athletes are big meatheads.”

Roy knew this truth viscerally, because with his offensive lineman’s build of 6-feet-6-inches and 300-plus pounds, he sticks out in academic settings. “People stare,” he says. “They do not expect me to be in the role that I am in.”

What Roy didn’t know was that the idea was percolating elsewhere, including at the National Collegiate Athletic Association. Brian Hainline, the NCAA’s chief medical officer, says he and Poll-Hunter of the AAMC are in talks with several universities about launching a pilot program to support African American athletes interested in medical careers.

Meanwhile, in 2018 Miller founded the organization Scholar-Athletes with Academic Goals (a.k.a. SWAG, a name he hopes will resonate with young people). The initiative connects promising athletes with a range of available programs to help them pursue and succeed in science and medicine. Recently, Miller worked closely with leadership at Pace University to create a program, expected to launch next year, to support Black college athletes interested in attending medical school. Pace officials want the initiative to become a magnet for out-of-state athletes and a model for other schools. “My hope is that two years from now, colleges and universities will call” and ask, “Wow, how did you do this?” says athletic director Brown. “Once we have some success, and proof of concept, then I think it can really grow.”

Bolds graduated medical school in 2018 and is now doing his residency at Mount Sinai. His focus is rehabilitation medicine, and he plans to tend to injured athletes and serve as a team physician. He got a business degree while in medical school, and his long-term goal is to open his own interventional spine and sports medicine practice specializing in preventing and rehabilitating injuries in both athletes and non-athletes, as well as helping serious players enhance their performance.

But there were tough moments along the way, such as the encounter with that academic adviser, which Bolds says only served to motivate him. At the time, he thought, “Wow, this person doesn’t believe in me. So let me make them a believer,” he recalls. “That was, moving forward, really a turning point for me, honestly. Because I knew that people aren’t going to believe in you unless you give them a reason to.”

Bolds began to apply an athletic mindset to his pre-med classes. “That same grind of having to get up, 5 a.m., get to the gym, get shots up before anybody gets there, to put in that extra time — I was doing that with my studies,” he says. “I would get to the library before anybody.” Once Bolds turned his grades around, professors began to notice and help him, he says. Still, he says, his score on the MCAT, an entrance exam required by nearly all U.S. medical schools, was borderline. Instead of giving up, he attended multiple events at Howard University’s medical school, where he met people who advocated for him. It was the only medical school he got into.

Whereas Bolds had to bushwhack, he saw other Black students fall off the medical path — and his fellow Black teammates avoided it entirely. Many athletes find themselves enmeshed in a profit-making system that may not prioritize their education. The NCAA has been criticized in recent years for its long-standing policy which prohibits profit-sharing with college athletes — a policy that was only recently reversed under interim guidelines. Others have said that Black labor has been especially exploited.

In his residency, Bolds is focusing on rehabilitation medicine, and is pictured here working at Mount Sinai’s sports medicine clinic.

Jeenah Moon for Undark

As of 2014 reports, fewer than 2 percent of athletes in the NCAA will go on to play professionally. But for self-serving reasons, critics say, (Clemson University’s football team, for example, made $77 million in average annual revenue from 2015 through 2017) universities often direct athletes to “academic paths of least resistance.” Many schools practice “major clustering,” in which players are steered to the same relatively undemanding major, such as communications, so they can devote themselves almost entirely to their sport. Major clustering is more pronounced among athletes of color, according to a 2009 study of football teams at 11 universities. At six of those schools, the study found, over three-quarters of the non-White football players were enrolled in just two academic majors, although dozens of majors were offered.

Sheron Mark, an associate professor of science education at the University of Louisville, co-authored a 2019 case study of two young Black men who arrived at college on basketball scholarships, with the intent to pursue respective careers in computer science and engineering. But both found it difficult to balance academics with athletics because of pressure and blandishments from coaches and faculty advisers.

“For so long, they’ve been sold this message that you don’t have many choices, that banking on a professional sports career is one of very few options for you if you want to advance your station in life,” says Mark of many Black athletes. It’s important to have a plan B, she says, since “the odds just aren’t in their favor.” But coaches can discourage academically demanding majors because they may cut into practice time, and college athletes are not always capable of pushing back, she says, because their financial packages are tied to fulfillment of their team responsibilities.

Many Black college athletes are already strong candidates for medical school, advocates say, but others may need extra academic support to compensate for deficits acquired at under-resourced K-12 schools. They may also need post-graduation training to take science classes they did not have time for while working long hours as athletes — with some working 20-plus hours a week. “How are they being mentored and guided and protected in planning for their futures?” Mark asks. “They are high achieving in sports, they want to be high achieving in academics. Why don’t we support them?” When people wonder whether student-athletes can cut it in science and medicine, Mark’s response is: “It’s on us. It’s on us to help them do so. That’s how we can grow their representation.”

That’s what Pace University intends to do. The school already nurtures academic success in its athletes, who collectively had a B+ average last school year, but premedical studies have never been a great fit, in part because afternoon practices can conflict with long lab classes, says athletic director Brown. As part of the school’s new initiative, Pace science departments have pledged to offer flexibility in course section offerings in order to accommodate football commitments. Athletes of color from any sport will be welcome, but football was prioritized because it is the largest and one of the most diverse teams and has the most complicated schedule, Brown says.

The school also plans to adjust its advising, tutoring, and library services to ensure that pre-med athletes won’t falter when they struggle with personal issues or tough classes like organic chemistry. “Rather than saying, ‘Oh, chemistry, nobody likes chemistry, you’re right, you should just drop that,’ instead now it’s going to be, ‘Yeah, you’ve got to buckle down. And here’s how we’re going to do it,’” says Hillary Knepper, the university’s associate provost for student success.

Meanwhile, Brown will be directing his coaches to actively recruit Black and Latino high school athletes who are interested in medicine. In the past, Brown says, his coaches were less likely to select such students because of anticipated scheduling challenges. But now Pace is trying to establish a partnership through which a nearby medical school would give preferred consideration to pre-med athletes who have completed the Pace curriculum. “With our new approach, you’re not only going to have the ability to do it,” he says, “but you’re going to have a support system, to make sure that you follow the path.”

Some advocates for the athlete-to-doctor paradigm see this work as part of the larger movement for social justice. “Look what Jackie Robinson did, right? Look at Muhammad Ali, look at Colin Kaepernick,” Roy says. “Athletics has always been the vehicle for social change.”

Medical professionals can influence public policy, accumulate wealth, and help empower others in their orbit. “The impacts ramp up really quickly, from just that individual benefiting,” Mark says, to “your family, your neighborhood, your social network, and society — people you won’t even meet, and across generations.”

Studies suggest that African American doctors are more likely to choose to work in underserved communities. They also may be more attuned to, and motivated to combat, the disparities in health care. A study published last year, for example, suggests that Black newborns are half as likely to die when they are cared for by a Black physician.

Bolds is keenly aware of the health disparities for Black communities, and he jumps at opportunities to mentor other young Black men, to show them that they, too, can become doctors. “It seems like there’s so many steps that just are never-ending,” he says. But, he adds, to see someone “that you can connect with that’s at that finish line or has already passed that finish line — I think that’s very key to their success.”

One of the people Bolds has connected with is Darius Ervin, a talented Black basketball player from Crown Heights, Brooklyn, who is now a sophomore at Cornell University. The two met when Ervin attended a virtual event late last year, sponsored by SWAG, at which Bolds spoke. Afterwards, the two chatted, and Bolds now checks in periodically with Ervin, who says he appreciates the encouragement. “Those are people that have once laced up shoes and got on the court and played just like how I did, and now they’re in the hospital helping people,” he says. “Being able to speak to those people gives me the visual, allows me to see that it’s an opportunity and it’s definitely possible for me to do.”

UPDATE: A previous version of this article referred imprecisely to the institutional affiliation of Donovan Roy. He is at the Western Michigan University Homer Stryker M.D. School of Medicine, not the Homer Stryker M.D. School of Medicine at Western Michigan University.

Emily Laber-Warren directs the health and science reporting program at the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism at CUNY.

This article was originally published on Undark. Read the original article.

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[accioromione]

I think JKR is brave. Her concerns are valid and the way she's been treated has totally changed my perspective on the whole issue. It started with her saying someone shouldn't be fired for asserting sex is real. Simple enough. Then everyone went nuts, not considering her perspective or larger picture or women in general at all. She's only said things that come from a place of caring and a place of concern and has evidence to back it up. Twitter isnt a place for nuanced conversation as we've seen

I see and do not see your point at the same time ....Originally I do think she was simply standing up for women. 

We definitely live in a world that is a lot more pronoun sensitive. And it is well known that there is a difference between sex and gender. You cannot choose sex, but you can choose gender (and this is not up for debate- it is a scientific fact- and inclusive sociologists even go onto say this) 

Sociologists have always referred to gender as more of a social construct and sex as an innate physical characteristic. So I think her original outlook was just pointing out female sex by nature would be people who menstruate. And going on to say “people who menstruate” must have struck a nerve with her...they could have said female by sex. 

Now the issue is how she’s approached this...her overtly defensive attitude appears to disguise internalized transphobia. And to many people who are not transexual..transphobia is a common thing...because they psychologically cannot understand why someone would try to change their gender. 

I was neutral on the situation because I understood how the transexual community took it..but I also saw J.K Rowlings output. But I started disagreeing with her when she tried to target medicine...(Bias because I am in the medical field) 

She (and also got many people to join along) claimed that medical professionals encourage transexuals for surgery/ hormone therapy and such because it profits us, and that we’re basically drug pushers who do everything for profit. As someone in medicine this is NOT what we are taught at ALL.

It is quite the opposite....We are advised against over diagnosing/ over prescribing anyone in any situation. Due to things like our current opioid epidemic..it has become increasingly taught that we should talk every caution to make sure medical intervention is necessary. 

No (honest) doctor in their right mind would approve of top surgery to someone who is ‘unsure’ if they are a female, if they are practicing what they were taught to practice. 

Transexual patients are usually VERY desperate for surgery and VERY desperate to change genders. Many times as medical professionals we question...and we make SURE that they have gender dysmorphia...It is usually something that is seen from a young age..and develops over time. A lot of medical professionals get pressured by these patients because they are that desperate for surgery...But a true physician wouldn't approve surgery like that....usually there’s been psychiatric evaluation...and a longitudinal check up on the patient. So the fact that she was encouraging all of these people to be like “yes they only want money thats why” was very “anti vax” of her....I do think there are implications with exposing young children to certain things...and behaviourists can tell you that many children learn though things like modelling (copying others)- so there are bound to be studies that suggest this. But this goes for anything....Depression..anxiety...anything we don’t physically see that has increased in the last few years can be attributed to more exposure to these things. But the honest thing is that there is no study that can tell you this is 100% the case. 

There are a variety of factors, the reality is that there could have been the same percentage of people who were transexual 100 years ago..but were afraid of stigmatization...Atheism has also increased with time...anxiety...divorce rates....There’s a lot of factors as to why this is...yes we are moving into a more ‘liberal society’ but this is more so attributed to technology.. causing less family / immediate socialization ...more opportunity to meet people a like to you (think about family dinners and so forth..that’s all people had once upon a time...think about the judgment people get for not being married at a certain age) - but think about it...we live in a world now where you can talk to 1000 people instead of 10...statistically its more probable you’ll meet someone more alike to you with a large sample size. So although exposure COULD be a factor....there is no study that can state that it IS the reason people are transexual. 

Should it be forced upon? of course not..nothing should...religion shouldnt... political ideas shouldn't..people should be able to form their own opinions. But no one holds anyone by a shot gun- the media advertises things and as a society we should be aware of that. Censorship is dangerous and to elude these things wasn’t wise...For Jo to sue people and all of that...it’s just not what you do. 

But yeah I see her view point in the beginning because it’s pretty well known that sex and gender are not the same thing...but the approach after I do not personally agree with...

At the end of the day- if it doesn’t hurt or damage people it shouldn't be so much of an issue to people not in it. And transexual potter heads deserve to feel like they belong

 but thanks for your feedback! 

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 16X11

I really loved this episode! There were so many things I liked! The thing I liked most was how funny it was! I died laughing! I was hollering with laughter the entire time! It was SO funny! I haven't laughed that hard at something in ages! I also loved the chemistry between Meredith and Hayes aka McWidow! I loved their easy banter and how well they worked together. I loved that Cormac could admit when he was wrong and be gracious about it. And the way they worked together in the OR! They were like a seamless well-oiled machine. It's really cool to see Meredith work so well with someone who has the potential to be a great romantic partner and whose on her level professionally! In all of her past relationships there was always a power imbalance. I love her and Cormac together!  

I love how in just a few short episodes Hayes has already endeared himself to Cristina, Jo, and Amelia! They are not easily impressed and he's already won them over! I love that! I think there's a lot of potential there. Meredith and Hayes aren't even dating yet and this relationship already has more support than any other she's ever been in. I'm so totally here for it! It's about friggin' time! Also what ship name are we using for Meredith and Cormac's budding romance? I've seen people using everything from Grayes to McWidow to McIrish! I'm a Grayes and McWidow fan myself so that's what I've been using so far. Now onto the recap. Meredith��s Voice Over this week is all about why people don’t go to the doctor and we open on her texting her favourite person: Cristina. I love their exchange!

Meredith: What do you mean by gift? Cristina: 🤷🏻‍♀‍ M: Professional or personal? C: 🤷🏻‍♀‍ M: I need more information!! C: 🤷🏻‍♀‍ M: You’re not funny

On the contrary Meredith I think Cristina‘s hilarious and she knows exactly what she’s doing. Wink wink. Amelia and Meredith are in the Attendings Lounge and following her text exchange with Cristina, Amelia asks Meredith if they’re have been any Maggie sightings today. She says she sent Zola up with food but she refused and that they’ll know when to push her. I love Meredith and her sisters! I sometimes wonder what things would have been like if Lexie had lived and Cristina had stayed. It would be cool to see the five of them together. We find out that Amelia has decided to tell Link about her pregnancy news but she hasn’t told Meredith as she has no idea what the hell Amelia is talking about.

Enter Hayes! He notices that a pregnant Amelia is struggling to tie her shoe and like the gentleman he is offers to help! Swoon! Meanwhile Meredith has no idea what to make of the man who last time she saw him bite everyone’s head off and drove her up the wall and is now tying her pregnant sister’s shoe for her. I love it! Amelia is impressed! Hayes offers Meredith coffee but she says she’s good. He makes small talk and then leaves. As Amelia says, “That is a very well wrapped gift.” Why yes it is! Meredith is annoyed as she still doesn’t know what to make of Cristina’s “gift” so she unties Amelia’s shoe! Haha I love it!

Meanwhile Teddy has lost her engagement ring! Which turns out to be a Hunt family heirloom. Oh dear. Jo promises to keep an eye out while Teddy continues to search. Next we find DeLuca sitting in a side room doing research. Meredith walks in. She tells him that he told her to take some time to think which she didn’t like because two people who are together should think things through together. Truth. When you’re in a relationship with someone and you’re truly committed you work and talk things out together. You don’t just throw a hissy fit over your own insecurities and walk away which is what DeLuca did. Instead of responding to this obvious truth and acting like he gives a crap DeLuca instead starts talking about a routine lap appy that he did on a patient whose not getting better.

Here’s what bugs me about this scene. Last week DeLuca was so eager to get back together with Meredith that he came crying to her sister, his ex, for help. This week he couldn’t care less about her and acts like they don’t even know each other. This guy is all over the map! They’ve rewritten DeLuca’s character so many times at this point I’ve lost track. Which is one of the reasons I don’t like him. He’s inconsistent, poorly written, and just an overall jackass.

Also I think it’s interesting that DeLuca broke up with Meredith because he couldn’t handle the fact that he’d never compare to Derek or be on their level skill wise but now that he needs help he turns to the great Dr. Meredith Grey for advice. Very telling. When Meredith wanted to be with him personally, he walked away because he couldn’t handle the fact that she was better than him professionally. Now that she wants to talk things through, he couldn’t care less and only wants her help professionally. What a loser.

DeLuca refuses to even address her comment and instead talks to her professionally as if they barely know each other. And he wonders why everyone hates him? Meredith is having none of it. Thank God. She tells him she’ll think on it and that he should fill Bailey in. Before leaving she leans over and whispers to him that she misses him in Italian. Meredith then turns and leaves. It’s only after this that we see any kind of normal reaction out of DeLuca. It’s as if he suddenly remembers they used to date.

DeLuca smiles and calls after her that he didn’t dump her, so she doesn’t have to miss him. Meredith walks away. Fun fact: that’s called gaslighting. DeLuca showed up to Meredith’s house after she got her medical licence back, compared himself to her dead husband, and then threw a temper tantrum about his own insecurities and how they weren’t partners and told her to take some time.

He then claimed to Link and Nico that he didn’t dump her, got schooled on it, and eventually went to Maggie for advice. He admitted to her that he meant what he said. Now that Meredith wants to talk instead of apologizing he’s gaslighting her. DeLuca keeps claiming he didn’t dump her all the while refusing to apologize or address the issues at hand. They’re not equals and they never will be. That hasn’t changed and he meant what he said so there’s really nothing to talk about here.

Also DeLuca claiming that he didn’t dump Meredith when in fact he did doesn’t change those facts. Also what is his plan here? Does he really think being a passive aggressive asshole is going to win Meredith back? DeLuca’s an idiot. Last week and the episode before that he whined to everyone about how he didn’t dump Meredith and wanted to get back together. This week she wants to talk and all he does is treat her with coldness and make passive aggressive comments. He’s first class idiot and Meredith deserves better. It looks like she may have found it in Hayes and I couldn’t be happier!

Another reason why I'm totally a Grayes fan? "Listen Grey this is your house, but someone gave me a key so maybe it's best if we try to learn how to live together," Is such a low key epic line. Like hot damn. I'm not one for pick up lines but damn son. Also I love that he follows it up with, "Welcome back Dr. Grey. I can see why you were missed." Like damn. He's been a pain in the ass to work with all day and he knows it, but he can also admit when he's wrong and do it gracefully and I love that

Also Hayes is so into Mer. He could have said anything to her as he exited the elevator and he goes with a straight fire pick up line about how someone gave him a key to her house so they should learn how to live together and he can see why she was missed? Damn. I'm so sunk. I'm so into this ship and Hayes has only been in three episodes! I can't wait to see more of Meredith and Hayes together! They have so much in common and they are such a slow burn! I love it!

I love that Hayes doesn't brag about being right about the vaping case. He totally could have and he chose not to. Meredith didn't brag about the Jamie Caldwell case and she totally could have and choose not to. I love that they have this mutual respect already. It's also cool to see a new male doctor on the show that doesn't brag and gloat every 5 minutes. Real talk that is one of the most annoying things about the remaining male characters on Grey's. I'm really liking this new guy.

Also I love that Hayes went from not understanding who Meredith was talking about at the beginning of the episode to being super curious and intrigued as to how she knows Cristina by the end of it. He definitely wants to know what the story is there. In other non-Grayes related news Amelia finally tells Link the truth that the baby might not be his. It’s heartbreaking and devastating to watch.

Amelia makes this great speech about how she loves what they have and why she loves him, but that she understands that he needs time to think. We’ve seen such growth from Amelia this season. I’m so proud of her. We get an update on the residents and find out that Bailey took some time off after her miscarriage. Of course Koracick doesn’t know that so he’s being his usual asinine self. We meet the patient DeLuca was talking about. Her name is Suzanne. She’s very sweet and has two very cute kids and a loving sister who want her to get better.

Even more tragic we learn that Suzanne’s partner died last year. He had a migraine that got so bad he went to the ER, but the doctors sent him home saying he would be fine. He died shortly thereafter so now her kids are terrified of hospitals. Oh god. Honey you are at the wrong place. They don’t call it Seattle Grace Mercy Death for nothing!

We see Hayes and Meredith meet in the hallway. Mer wants to address the elephant in the room and says she’s not sure what Cristina said to him and wants to know more. Only Hayes has no idea what she’s talking about. As soon as Mer realizes this she stops talking and says Never mind. Hayes isn’t deterred though and he keeps asking questions until she distracts him by asking him if he’s going to the pit. I love the ease that Meredith and Hayes already have with each other. I love the way she smiles when she talks to him and I love how persistent he is when it comes to the truth! It feels like we got the old Meredith back and I love it.

Hayes is confused as what the pit is. Meredith explains she’s talking about the ER. He asks why they call it that. Meredith says she doesn’t know. I love scenes where they talk about the medical language and slang different countries and cultures use. Right after they get there a 17 year old kid named Kai starts coughing up blood. They begin working together and start treating him. Meanwhile Maggie is still at home hiding. Richard comes to see her and through some ingenious text messages convinces her to answer the door.

During this scene Justin Chambers’ name appears and he is credited in this episode despite the fact that he does not appear. This makes sense seeing as episodes 1 - 12 would have been filmed last year while he was still under contract. Man I miss Alex already. Fun fact from this episode: Richard Webber can cook! This man is full of surprises. Who knew? Back at the hospital Jo comes to talk to Link who tells her about Amelia’s baby news. Just as they start to talk a man calls out for help and they run over to help him.

“All these blue pyjamas, I can’t get any help over here?!”  LOL this guy! It turns out this man swallowed an entire fish and then while being rushed to the ER his friend accidentally slammed his hand in the cab door to the point that it’s gushing blood! Yuck! Back at the house Richard is dismayed by all of the places there are to put food and the lack there of it! Some things never change. Aw! There’s a photo of Zola in her Day of the Dead outfit on the fridge! Also I love the Pac Man style ghost drawing! A+ for whoever’s kid drew that one!

Maggie just wants to be left alone. Richard refuses to give up. Meanwhile, Owen has the day off so he comes to see Teddy at the hospital. He wants to talk wedding plans but she tearfully tells him they can’t because she lost the ring! Owen reassures her and tells her that it won’t be an issue because they’re going to find it. Which admittedly is very sweet of him.

It turns out this guy knowingly ate a potentially poisonous spiky puffer fish from a bar aquarium at his bachelor party on a dare. Yep. That happened. I bet this isn’t even made up. I bet you anything someone’s actually done this. I love Jo’s line, “I honestly worry for your entire gender sometimes.” Hahaha Jo! Same here girl same here. Jackson, Jo, and Link scrub in on fish guy. Link tries to act like he’s cool with the whole unknown paternity thing and Jo calls his bluff.

As Jo says, “You can love her and be mad at her at the same time. Both things can be true.” Wise words indeed. Amelia goes to talk to Owen and Teddy only to find them looking for the ring. Owen gets a text saying Leo just threw up all over daycare so Owen and Teddy run off to deal with that leaving a confused and anxious Amelia behind. I’m confused as to why Amelia stayed behind. Leo is her kid too. Why didn’t she go with them?

Meanwhile Meredith and Hayes are giving Kai a CT scan. Hayes comments that he’s got a couple of boys at home that are Kai’s age. He says he had to read a whole book on brain function just to manage to forgive them for everything they do. Meredith laughs in response as Hayes tells her that he came home the other night to find the oldest one throwing a tennis ball as hard as he could at the youngest one’s head. And that the game was could his brother dodge it before he got brain damage. Meredith, being a parent herself, laughs in response because she gets it. She then apologizes saying she shouldn’t laugh at that because it’s actually not funny.

Gosh the way he looks at her! I just love it. I love their easy laughter and how they understand each other’s experience. Losing a spouse young and having to raise a bunch of kids as a single parent while running a department is no picnic. Hayes is just perfect for Meredith. He’s everything she needs and wants. I love it! Hayes then opens up to Meredith and explains why he acted the way he did the other day. He says it was a tough day for him and that he gets a bit dark this time of year because it’s when he lost their Mum to cancer.

He says he hopes that the two of them can start over and Meredith says sure. She’s been there and is there. She knows what’s it’s like to lose a spouse and get all dark and twisty over it. I think it’s great seeing Meredith with someone whose dark and twisty like she is. I’m tired of all this fluff. I want to see her with someone who’s as screwed up as she is. Who gets it. They can be dark and twisty together. Meredith asks him how long it’s been since she passed. Cormac answers that she’s been gone two years ago last week. Because she’s been there she tells him two years is tough but that it gets better.

As she says, “Two years is tough. Gets better. Not all the way better obviously, but a little bit better.” Meredith’s been there so she knows what she’s talking about. Hayes is about to respond when the CT scans pop up. I’m looking forward to seeing Meredith address being a widower more. It shouldn’t be the whole focus but getting to see and understand her experience as she moves forward with someone new who understands her pain is critical. I’d also love to see her talk about Derek and her other deceased loved ones more. Dating someone who understands that kind of pain could make it easier to talk about. You shouldn’t have to hide your love for someone. I’d love to see Meredith and Hayes go on a dinner date and talk about their dead spouses and what they do and don’t miss. You don’t stop loving someone because they die and Mer deserves someone she can talk about that stuff with.

She shouldn’t have to hide her love for Derek anymore than Hayes should have to hide his love for his wife. They need to be able to talk about that stuff and I look forward to seeing them explore that more. Meredith and Hayes look at the scans. The kid’s supposed to be an athlete yet he’s got the lungs of a 60 year old smoker. Meredith is baffled but Hayes says he’s seen this before. “I bet you a naggin he vapes.” Yikes! Hayes comes to talk to Kai’s Dad and his friends. His Dad is in disbelief but based on their reactions Hayes deduces correctly that the boys know something they’re not saying.

Telling them that this is no time for secrets Hayes gets them to open up and they admit that Kai vapes but don’t think it’s that bad because half the school does it. Cormac is having exactly none of that and schools them on the fact that vaping is similar to smoking in that you’re putting chemicals into your lungs which are meant inhale air not smoke or chemicals. Hayes shows them a picture of a healthy lung and another photo of their friend’s which looks awful. They act flip in response and he promptly loses it on them. Hayes tells them to get out of his face and that the stuff is deadly just as Meredith comes down the stairs. Kai’s Dad is freaked. Hayes explains that his son’s not dying but thinks the only way to help him is to repair his esophagus and remove part of his lung.

Meredith disagrees. She thinks they should try to stop the bleeding by coiling the artery which is the least invasive option and what she‘d want for her own kids. Kai’s Dad is swayed and says he wants to go with the option Meredith presented. Cormac concedes and says they’ll get back to him. As they walk away he tells Meredith he’ll defer to her going forward, she tries to make amends, but Hayes says that’s not necessary. He clarifies that he’s not being passive aggressive or trying to make an issue out of it. Meredith believes she can do it, Kai’s Dad wants her to try, so she should be the one to do the procedure.

I love this for so many reasons. If this same scenario happened with one of Meredith’s other love interest it would be a whole thing! Derek would have had a field day, Riggs would have been pissed, and DeLuca would have thrown a temper tantrum. Hayes? Nah. He’s cool as a cucumber. He’s not mad or upset. He’s doesn’t treat her poorly or patronize her. He graciously accepts defeat, defers to her, and moves on and I love that. Meredith deserves someone like that in her life. We all do.

They have some nice banter about how Hayes keeps accidentally terrifying his patients’ parents and he tells her he was trying to terrify the kids who are Kai’s friends from school. I love how easily they get along. Back at the house Maggie and Richard talk. She wants to be left alone. He wants to know why she quit. She explains about the mix up with the perfusionist and not knowing the protocol at Pac North. Maggie asks Richard to go and he leaves. Back at the hospital Teddy and Owen are looking after a sick Leo. They get an x-ray to try and figure out what’s going on.

And figure it out they do! It turns out that Leo ate Teddy’s ring! Over in the OR Meredith and Hayes are operating on Kai and she’s got on her mint green scrub cap today with the swirls on it. I like seeing all of her different scrub caps and the metaphor they embody about how she’s moving on with her life post-Derek’s death. Meredith deploys the coil while Cormac attempts to backseat drive which annoys her. He tells her he didn’t want to do it because there’s often a re-bleed and seconds later it happens.

Hayes wants to open him up, but Meredith thinks she can deploy another coil. Hayes tells her they don’t have time. I love their exchange in this scene. Meredith says, “I’m sorry,” and Hayes responds, “Don’t be sorry. Tried it your way. Now help me with mine.” He could have gloated and being a real jackass about it and said I told you so but he didn’t. He admired her willingness to try and when her way failed he didn’t gloat or make an issue of it. In fact he told her not to apologize and instead asked for her help in doing it his way. Because that’s what being a mature adult is all about. Accepting defeat and triumph graciously and asking for help when you need it. Just one of the many reasons I already love Hayes as a character.

Meanwhile, Jo, Jackson, and Link are still operating on fish guy. It’s rough going. “Every time I think I’ve seen the craziest, dumbest things a person can do the ER’s just like ‘Hold my beer.’” Oh Jackson! This line! LOL. Meanwhile Meredith and Hayes are still operating on Kai. He tells her in the interest of full disclosure that this isn’t the first time he’s had the debate about whether to coil or resect. Mer doesn’t find this very comforting. She responds with, “So I was wrong but I’m not alone? Thanks.” Hayes clarifies and says that last time he was on her side and he insisted on the coil even though his colleague adamantly disagreed.

Hayes says he didn’t even get as far as Mer did before it all went sideways. So Meredith asks, “Who was the colleague?” And Hayes replies, “Head of the Klausman Institute: Dr. Yang. Absolute nightmare.” Hahaha oh Hayes you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. I love that knowing look Meredith gives him too. Elsewhere Bailey and DeLuca are giving Suzanne a CT scan. She does not like it at all. They rule something else out but still can’t figure out what’s wrong with her. Then Koracick walks up. He’s confused as to why the Chief of Surgery is doing follow ups on a routine appy and chastises her for it mockingly. Bailey gets up and closes the door in his face like a boss.

Just then Suzanne starts coding. For the first time in ages we see DeLuca whose Chief Resident actually practicing medicine. In an even bigger shock he actually does his job competently. Elsewhere fish guy is finally out of surgery. He’s trying to figure out how to his fiancée when she walks in. She is not happy. “You are dumber than a turtle!” She says. Can’t argue with that one. This woman is done. She’s had enough. She’s calling off the wedding. She says that last month her mother offered her $10K to push the wedding back a year and she told her no.

She realizes now that it was her not her mother who couldn’t see him for who he really was and this isn’t the life she wants. As she says, “When someone shows you who they are over and over you’re supposed to believe them.” Very true. Also I hope her Mom gave her that 10K after she called it off. Link seems to take this sentiment to heart although I’m not sure why. Amelia’s been open and honest with him and she’s better mentally than she’s ever been. Bailey and DeLuca promise Suzanne they’ll get answers. Back at the house Richard shows up again this time with groceries. I love this exchange. Maggie asks, “What is this? And Richard replies, “It’s called food. Let’s see what it’s like to actually eat some.” Haha I love Richard. He has the best lines. Maggie’s then talks about what Sabi meant to her and all the reasons Richard should hate her. In response he tells her about his Mom who died when he was 10. He says he doesn’t remember much but when he was upset, she would make them both pancakes.

And she’d say, “Let’s talk about it after you’ve had something to eat.” So that’s what he’s trying to do for Maggie. My heart. It’s nice hearing Richard talk about his Mom and learn more about his family. I like seeing him bond with Maggie more. Richard and Maggie have a heart to heart. He encourages her to get back into the OR. They talk about Sabi. Back at the hospital Owen and Teddy talk about Leo and the ring. He’s going to be fine but Teddy’s still distraught about losing it in the first place.

So Teddy and Owen reach a compromise. They’ll add some extra letters to her necklace to represent the whole family and put the ring in a safe for special occasions. And now Teddy has to sift through Leo’s poop. Isn’t parenting fun? Back at the hospital, Cormac talks to Kai’s Dad. They have a heart to heart and he thanks him for saving his son. Hayes meets Mer in the hallway. He tells her he won’t rub it in that he was right. She apologizes again. He chuckles and tells her that when he was on the other end Yang drive him mad.

He says she left him notes all over the place every day for months. “I was right you were wrong. Little pictures of respected lungs.” As Mer says, “Well that sounds about right.” I can so see Cristina doing that too! She’d think it was hilarious. She probably really liked Hayes as a colleague and he has no idea. Oh Cristina. Never change. Hayes is confused by Mer’s response and asks her about it, “Wait you know her?” Uh oh. Cats out of the bag. Mer tries to explain but can’t find the words. Hayes quirks some eyebrows and is intrigued.

In response Meredith stumbles over her words and then says, “Um ... I gotta go.” Oh Meredith. She walks away rather than face the truth as Hayes stares after her in confusion. I can’t wait to see this storyline play out! It has so much potential! Bailey’s about to leave for home but Koracick won’t let up. She’s finally had enough and so she tells him the truth. She wasn’t on vacation. She sat in her house for three days, drank tea, and cried her eyes out because she had a miscarriage.

He’s surprisingly sympathetic and tells her to light a candle. He tells her that his ex-wife Dana miscarried twice before their son David was born. He says that every year he still lights candles on what would have been their birthdays. Tom is such an interesting character. He’s a complete asshole one minute and the nicest guy you’ve ever met the next. Greg Germann does an amazing job portraying him. Also, can we talk about the fact that the man lost three children? His wife miscarried twice and then his son died young from a freak accident at school. 

It destroyed his marriage to the point that his wife eventually left to be with another man and he was broken he couldn’t do anything about it. Which is why Tom 100% did not deserve the crap Teddy put him through. That was BS. He deserved better. God dammnit. Also, I don’t understand why the other characters aren’t more upfront with Tom. He’s made it clear that if you’re upfront with him he’ll leave you alone. It’s only when he’s in the dark that he starts bugging people. Seems pretty simple to me. Just saying. Meanwhile, Link pages Amelia to the plant room. He’s upset she didn’t get checked out earlier and wants her to do a paternity test.

He’s calm and collected about it but also clearly upset. So is Amelia. She asks what happens if he’s not the father? He’s says he wants to be cool about it and say it doesn’t matter but he’s not sure how he feels yet. He says he wants to take things one step at a time. Amelia is devastated but she keeps it together as best she can. Watching her cry silently as her eyes fill with tears is gut wrenching. Amelia’s been through so much! I just want her to be happy god damnit! Also, I don’t get why the paternity matters so much. You either love someone or you don’t. You either want to be a Dad or you don’t. What difference do the genetics make?

We find Meredith running along a hallway. She runs into the scan room where DeLuca is pouring over paperwork. She says she got his text and suggests they go to dinner so he can clear his head a bit. Which is all very nice of her considering he dumped her over his own insecurities and has been nothing but a passive aggressive aloof asshole ever since. DeLuca in response bites her fricken head off and start shouting about his patient Suzanne and how he can’t help her. In response Meredith takes him by the shoulders and tells him to walk her through the case from the beginning.

Which again is very nice of her. If someone dumped me and then treated me like that I’d tell them to take a hike! I think it’s interesting that  Meredith’s Voice Over this episode is about facing up to the truth both good and bad and how important that is. In my mind this applies to her in two ways. One, she needs to own up and tell Cormac the truth about her and Cristina. Two, she needs to accept that her relationship with DeLuca is over and never would have worked out long term.

It also looks like Meredith is joining Suzanne’s case which could be interesting to watch. Personally, I’d like to see her work more with Hayes, but she hasn’t had a big case in a while so this could be fun. Next we see Bailey at the chapel lighting a candle for the baby she miscarried. My heart. Richard arrives home. Catherine’s not pleased to see him. She asks how his day was. He says it was uneventful. She says Dr. Wells from Pac North called looking for him. He tells her he spent the day trying to convince Maggie to come back to work.

She doesn’t believe him. He tells her their marriage can’t work if she doesn’t trust him. To which she responds, “Who said this was working?” Yikes! He asks her what she’s trying to say. She says she thinks it’s time for them to have a much bigger conversation. Real talk though I don’t understand Catherine this season. She’s been nothing but cold to Richard when he’s done nothing to her. Yes, he did something he shouldn’t have done while sticking up for Meredith but what does that have to do with Catherine?

For the first time in his life he’s married to someone he loves, he’s not drinking, and he’s not having an affair. That’s huge for him. What more does Catherine want? And he’s doing his best to be there for Meredith and Maggie as their surrogate father. All of the problems at this point are in Catherine’s head. He’s not cheating on her. He backed up Meredith because he loves her like a daughter. He’s supporting Maggie because he’s her biological father. That’s what you’re supposed to do for people you love for family. Sheesh.

Now onto this week’s promo! And it looks like we’ve got a stand-alone episode coming our way! It’s Catherine and Richard’s anniversary dinner and you know that’s going to be awkward! And it looks like Jackson invited Vic for some reason who invited Dean! Maggie is also in attendance. Oh boy. This is going to be one awkward dinner.

Until then!

[angry-slytherin]

Heaven Help Me(Ch 2)

Jo is reading scans from an email on her cell phone when she hears a voice behind her.

“Hey, Jo, wait up!” Jo whips around on her way to the coffee cart outside the hospital. She stops just short of the doorway. Amelia is walking briskly toward her.

“Okay so I know probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m dying to tell someone. Meredith is going on a date with Hayes. Don’t tell her I said this, she’ll kill me.”

Jo gives Amelia a look of confusion. “Uh, first of all I don’t know who ‘Hayes’ is and why are you telling me this?” Jo and Amelia had of course met through Link, and Jo likes her well enough, but she feels it’s weird that Amelia is sharing personal information about her sister’s dating life with her.

“Doctor Hayes! Pediatric co-chief of surgery! And I told you before, I needed someone to tell. You were on the way to the coffee cart and I don’t think you’ll blab to Meredith.”

Jo nods, “Right. You getting coffee?” Amelia frowns.

“No, I have surgery.” She says, and Jo just watches her walk off towards the elevator. Jo is just glad Amelia is self-aware of her crazy. That much is true.

Jo sees Rayn coming up the hall and quickly turns back toward the doors.

“Before seven is mine, Doctor Rayn. I told you this.”

“Doctor Wilson, I think you’ll want to come see this.” Rayn is tight-lipped.

“Fine; tell everyone I’ll be there in ten. I need sustenance or I’ll be crankier than normal. You don’t want that.”

Rayn agrees, still somber. “See you in ten. And I know we’re professionals, but I think it’s important you know that know my first name is Carleen.”

Jo studies the younger doctor carefully, realizing she reminds her of herself during her early residency years.

“Thank you, Rayn. I’ll be there in ten.”

Rayn goes to turn away, but Jo finds herself compelled to speak again.

“My first name is Jo.”

Rayn grins wide at Jo, before rushing back to the lab. Jo finally reaches the doors, stepping outside into one of Seattle’s rare clear mornings, and takes a deep breath. The fresh air helps to clear her mind.

“Good morning, Doctor Wilson.”

Jo jumps. Behind her is Alex Karev, scowling.

“Jesus, you scared me. Good morning to you too. What’s got you in a mood?”

“Got into a fight with my wife.” He practically tears his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans, and opens it.

“Oh, well. Don’t let it get to you too much. She loves you. And you don’t have to harp on it if it’s nothing that important.” Jo then remembers to take her wallet out of her own purse, fishing out a couple dollars.

“It was about— You know what, it doesn’t matter, you’re right. I’m just going to forget about it.”

“Right then,” Jo awkwardly moves on, “Did you read the article on ex-lap efficiency from Doctor Yat-Sen at UCLA? It was really interesting, the way he argued that you can minimize OR time by immediately doing a biopsy on the healthy tissue also.”

“I actually did. I dunno if it’s practical for me. It’s harder to decide on things like that with kids. They’re so compliacated. Like my wife.”

Jo openly laughs at that.

“Don’t hate on your wife. I thought you were forgetting about it?”

Alex groans, scowling again, “Right.”

“You’re right about the kids part though. Peds was super fun to me, but in the end I ending up in general, specialty-less.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Indecisiveness in the end. I never thought too far enough into it in the first place. Plus now, I have my research.”

Alex stands behind her on the coffee line, and Jo orders a lemon scone.

“What do you want, Karev?”

“I can pay for my own coffee.”

Jo turns to the clerk, “One black coffee please.” She smiles and hands the clerk the money.

“How could you possibly know how I like my coffee?” Alex says, accepting the cup.

“Please, you’re clearly not a sugar and milk person. You’re such a grouch.”

Alex keeps his scowl, but thanks Jo nonetheless.

***

“Good morning, all.” Jo greets the team as she enters the research lab. ‘The team’ being surgical resident Cross, oncology intern Rayn, and three biomedical engineers— John, Armani and Deborah.

“Doctor Wilson, we have great news. The mice are fine.” Deb is smiling, and the other engineers follow in suit.

“I don’t understand. That means our cells are flawed.” Cross furrows his eyebrows Jo sighs.

“Yes. It means we have lots more work to do. Actually, that’s the bio engineers’ job. Us doctors have to sit back now. Doctor Rayn, you’re of course welcome to help, as you’ve got the most extensive knowledge of cancer. Doctor Cross, thank you for all your help, but your services are no longer needed here.”

“It was wonderful to meet you Doctor Wilson. Hopefully we can call you back soon, once we’ve better understood this in our lab.” John sticks his hand out, and Jo shakes it.

“Thank you all. I look forward to it.” Jo nods, and she and Cross exit the lab.

“Doctor Cross, you should scrub in on as many surgeries as you can. I appreciate all of it, but your time spent here has set you back as a surgeon. Take some extra nights on-call for a while. Thank me later.”

Cross looks both solemn and grateful, and he simply walks away. Jo feels surprisingly upset at this; she knew her idea wasn’t the end all be all, but she had hoped it would’ve fleshed out more. All she had done was make mice ill, not help anyone.

She had gone and given up a great surgery fellowship, for one of her ideas to fail within only a little more than a week. Her favorite research already up in flames.

Then her pager goes off, and she is being briefed by a senior resident on a hernia patient who came into the ER last night. The woman whose scans she recieved this morning.

“Audrey Davis, 36. Came into the ER last night complaining of abdominal pain. After CT, it was concluded she has an epigastric hernia.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Jo nods to the resident.

“Doctor Wilson,” a medical student begins, “Am I correct to assume you’ll be performing a hernioplasty?”

“I will. Does anyone know why?”

“Yes. Mesh has proven to be exceedingly effective in long-term hernia repair.” A third-year resident answers.

“Doctor Wilson, will you be using an animal-based mesh or a composite synthetic one?” Another medical student.

“A bio human-based one. Why?”

“Because there’s a lesser chance of rejection.” A second-year.

“Alright, anyone who answered a question can join me in the OR today. Baker, scrub in. The rest of you can watch in the gallery. Find me later if you have further questions. Now excuse me.”

Jo makes her way into the patient’s room and the woman is surrounded by multiple people, ranging from toddlers to elderly. Jo counts thirteen.

“Good morning Ms. Davis, and family. I’m Doctor Wilson, and I’ll be your surgeon. I’ll be performing a laparoscopic repair for your hernia, and then hopefully in a day or two, you can go home. Do you have any questions?”

The elderly man speaks up, “Honey, are you the nurse? Because you need to speak up. I have hearing aids for god’s sake.”

“No, sir. I’m the doctor. Doctor Wilson, the surgeon who’ll be operating on Audrey.” Jo tries her best to muster a smile.

The patient rolls her eyes, “I’m so sorry Doctor. He’s especially irrational when he’s stressed. My mom was the first one in our family to have a surgery, and she died a year ago.”

Well that explained the whole gang showing up.

“No problem, Ms. Davis. I will see you in surgery.” The patient nods and Jo moves on to her post-ops. One med student trails her, with a concerned look on his face.

“How could you possibly not yell at that old man, it was crazy sexist what he said.” Jo faces the not-yet doctor, sighing.

“It’s the world we live in. As a female doctor, you learn to get used to it. You could probably ask your female peers” He frowns at Jo, shaking his head.

“Somebody should change that.” Jo is nearly crushed by his hope.

“Somebody should.”

She bumps into Izzie Stevens as she walks past the med student.

“Sorry, Wilson. I should’ve been looking where I was going. It’s been a long morning.”

Jo remembers Alex’s grumpiness this morning and guesses he probably slept on the couch.

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Are you married? Have you ever been married? It’s exhausting.” Izzie says it tiredly, not antagonistically.

“No, I mean I- yes. I have been married. But not anymore.”

Jo does not wish to share her own experience with marriage. She feels bad for Stevens and Karev, but their petty arguments hardly compare to her memories. She went to therapy for a long time after it ended.

“My husband — I think you know him — Alex, is just exhausting. He always thinks he’s making me happy, but half the time it’s just him pushing his wants onto me and calling them mine. Sorry, you probably don’t care.”

“It’s okay, I could use a break from my own thoughts.” Jo gives her a small smile, but the other doctor is right, she doesn’t care.

“Sorry, sorry again. Goodbye Doctor Wilson.” Izzie rushes off.

Jo finds several residents and med students waiting for her at Willy O’ Connor’s room.

***

After performing two appendectomies, Jo takes respite on a hallway gurney. She rubs her temples, leans her head back against the wall, and closes her eyes.

“Feeling okay? Fellowship life getting to you?” Link’s voice rings in her ears, her head pounding. She feels him sit next to her.

“I feel more tired than on a 24 hour shift as a resident. I research, and then I do surgery, and then I do more research, and then I do more surgery. It’s like everything I’ve ever wanted but it is so draining. I am so tired.” Jo opens her eyes and looks at her friend, fatigued.

“Ah I remember when I was a fellow, I actually slept through a M&M. The resident next to me who’d been there all night woke me up. It’s so much better than residency though. You’re basically an attending and still learning.” Link looks at Jo.

“Yeah,” Jo lets out a breath of air.

“So how is wedding planning going?”

Link smiles, “Well we set a date. July 18th. At the Old Mill Factory.”

“It’s gorgeous there! Oh I’m so happy for you both!” Jo squeals and suddenly she’s energized.

“Speaking of my wedding, how would you feel about being my best man?”

Jo smiles slowly, “Really? I mean I would of course be the best woman but minor details. Yes, of course Link, yes.”

Link grins at her. “Not that I’m doubtful, but I’m going to need you up there. Because me and Amelia will both be nervous wrecks.”

Jo bites her lip, “I bet. It’s gonna be great.”

***

Jo makes her way to the attending’s lounge on the third floor, but her desire for hot chocolate and a comfortable seat is prohibited by a screaming couple in the room already.

Jo decides she’s had a long enough day and braves the sparring lovers. It’s Alex and Izzie, of course. Jo shrinks, just wanting hot chocolate. That’s all she wants.

“-well that’s rich! You haven’t thought about what I want in a long time!”

“Oh so now you don’t want kids? We’ve always wanted kids, what changed?”

“Of course I want- that’s not what I’m saying, I’m saying I can’t give up more time for maternity leave. I have a lot going on right now with my patients and I need you to be willing to take time!”

“And I’ve told you I’m willing. But I’m not being a parent alone. That’s no— Iz.” Alex looks over at Jo and she widens her eyes, scooping up her mug.

She awkwardly smiles, “I’ll just be going now.”

God, she thinks, what a mess.

Alex follows Jo out of the lounge.

“Sorry about that.” Jo furrows her eyebrows, frowning.

“I thought the argument this morning wasn’t important.”

“It wasn’t.” Alex grunts. Jo doesn’t want to aggravate him more, but kids seems like a big topic. Kids are always a big topic.

“Kids are a big decision. I was a kid no one wanted, not even my own mother could stand to keep me for more than two days. She was under different circumstances, but no kid wants parents who can barely agree before they’re even a clump of cells.”

Alex fumes, “Who the hell says you get to comment on my marriage? What gives you the right? You’re not married, you’re not a parent. You have no idea.”

Jo rolls her eyes, “You’re right, Alex. But I’ve been married before, and I- you should think about what you’re getting into.” Alex waves her off.

“Screw you, Jo.”

Jo takes a deep breath, moving on to her surgery.

[tellywoodtrash]

sanjivani 06 + 07.11.19 lbs

still cranky af coz i'm tired from yesterday and my cat won't stop screaming in my face FOR NO DISCERNIBLE REASON this morning and ughhhhhhhhhhh. so imma pay it forward and caps lock scream at these dumbasses.

———————————————————————

06.11.19

YEH INSAAN PAGAL HAI KYA, TERE KO KOIIIIIIIIIIIII AUR SOLUTION DIKHAAYI NAHI DE RAHA SIVAAYE KHUD US SE SHAADI KARNE KE!?!!?!? LIKE GOD SIDDHANT, YOU ARE SO FUCKING DUMB.

le khaap panchayat bhi peeche pad gayi hai. LORD. THIS COUNTRY IS HONESTLY THE PITS WITH ITS DUMBASS PATRIARCHAL BULLSHIT.

"main baat karunga ishani se; woh ek ladki hai, samajh jaayegi."

BC LADKI TOH MAIN BHI HOON AUR MUJHE TOH BILKUL BHI SAMAJH NAHI AA RAHA. KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA BAKCHODIIIIIIIII HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

this dumbass is tooooooooo fucking pure for his own good. like........ itna bhi achcha nahi hona chahiye bande ko zindagi mein.

waah. iska chehra dekho. kaisi ram milaaye jodi hai bewakoofon ki.

ishani also too pure for her own good. but in a relatable sort of way, unlike that other idiot.

oh madam, tere iss seal of approval/character certificate ka kya woh achaar daalega?!!?!? usski poori zindagi jhand ho gayi hai iss chakkar mein.

ok if you've decided that this marriage is gonna work, etc. THEN STOP LOOKING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THIS.

this chick is crazy. i get you're relieved he didn’t cheat on you and shit but........  maybe decades from now you can look back and marvel on what a great, noble man you loved, but this is a weird reaction to have right now.

ok fwding this patient’s incredibly-on-the-nose-shaayari nonsense, coz i'm really pissed now.

le poora corridor ghoom phir ke phir se wapis idhar hi aa gayi. 2 minute pehle toh bada aashirwaad de rahi thi iss shaadi ko. MAKE UP YOUR MIND SIS.

ugh lo yeh bhi aa gaya.

MANHOOS.

siddhu should claim surging newlywed/paternal hormones and throw a punch or two at this asshole.

WAIT WHAT HAS THIS FUCKER SHIFTED HIS REVENGE FROM SHASHANK TO SID?!!?!?!? WHY?!!?!?!? THE FUCK IS GOING ONNNNNNNNNNNNN?????

waaaaaaah kya khush-haaal jodi hai. should be a real healthy and conducive environment to raise a kid in!

wow. EVERYONE KNOWS THE WHOLE DEAL WITH SID AND ASHA NOW. like..... there's no keeping a secret in this hospital huh. 

oh ab issko bada empathy hai bin byaahi maa-on ke saath. ROSHNI KE SAATH KYA KAAND KIYA THA BE!?!?!?! BOL! SACH BOL!!!!!!!!!!!!

ugh stupid red herring. goddddddddddd when will they reveal this raaz already!?!?

lol sid's in the (left) corner in this shot, and then disappears in this next.

snort, ishani has ZEROOOOOOOOOO of that 4 lions awareness thingy huh??? banda 4 feet peecha khada hai and she's most focused on her gale ki kharaash.

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HE SURPRISED HER AND MADE HER CHOKE. HAVEN'T YOU DONE ENOUGH TO RUIN HER LIFE, DUMBASS?!!?!

"god, tum choke kar rahi ho?!?!?! JUST BREATHE."

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, WOHI TOH NAHI HO RAHA?????? YOU THINK SHE’S A WILLING PARTICIPANT IN THIS HERE EXERCISE OF NOT BEING ABLE TO PERFORM THE ESSENTIAL PROCESS OF BREATHING????? KAUN HAI YAAR YEH BEWAKOOF?!?! SHAADI KARTE TIME MEDICAL KI DEGREE RADDI MEIN BECH AAYA KYA?!?! YA HAWAN KUND MEIN PHENK DIYA AUR USSI KE PHERE LAGAAYE THE TUNEY?

lmao this is the worst, most unconvincing heimlich i have ever seen.

uh. no. this is NOT a romantic moment.

oh no. the tone shifted and it BECAME a romantic moment. fuck. just either make out or move the fuck to the two furthest corners of the elevator. THIS TENSION IS FUCKING INSANE.

oh god this boy's unrelenting sadness is killing me. it's bloody killing me. i think i might have to double my dose of antidepressants while this fucking track is on.

boss!dad is so sad and disappoint that his ship crashed and burnt so spectacularly. he’s been here since before everyone else, when ishani was manically describing her titli and abnormal heartbeat!!!!!! :’(((((((((((

lmaoooooooooooo i wish anjali was here to hear shashank giving this personal life/professional life balance ka lecture. bada mazzaaa aaata!

boss!dad ki umeedein sidIsha pe abhi bhi kaayam. saying kuch aur nahi toh dost hi bano ishani ka.

dunno if that’s such a good idea right now, dad. maybe in time, once the feelings aren’t so raw.

GOD PLEASE ISKO ISKI KHUSHIYAAN WAPIS DE DO. ISKA GHAM AUR JHELA NAHI JAATA. CHEHRA DEKHO BECHAARE KA!!!!!!!!!!! I’M THIS CLOSE TO TEARS. HE’S A GENUINELY GOOD BEAN AND DESERVES BETTER!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh ho ab inka date dekhna hoga.

juhi is like life mein kabhi kabhi go with the flow. shashank is like "kabhi kabhi kya, hamesha."

haan hamesha aise flow kar-karke hi yeh nateeja nikal aaya hai; pata nahi kitna jaane-anjaane bachche of yours are running around here at any given moment.

................... so ambiguous. is this a romantic saath or is this a platonic saath?? LIKE THE FUCK IS THE DEAL WITH YOU TWO?!!? JUST DTR ALREADY.

purest boys. love you two.

tu haraami hai. but love your face.

bleh.

lmao rahil can't muster up neil's civil graciousness towards sidAsha.

kameeeeeeeeeeeeena insaan. bohut hi bada keeda hai tu.

rahil yaaar. i love your petty ass so much. you're honestly my favt person on this godforsaken show.

"kaash yeh sapna hota."

"kaash yeh sab ek jhoot hota. kaash sab kuch pehle jaise hota. (hum) iss tarah saamne nahi, saath khade hote."

OH HO. FORESHADOWING KI YEH SAB JHOOT HI TOH HAIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YISSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!

———————————————————————

07.11.19

RISHABH I SWEAR TO GOD....... TU ITNAAAAAAAAAAA KAMEENA KYUNNNNNNNN HAIIIIIIIII????? BHAGWAN KO BHI EK DIN MOOH DIKHAANA HAI, KUCH TOH SHARAM KAR?!?!!!!!

while neil continues to make an effort, rahil continues to make no pretense of approving of sidAsha. he just wandered the fuck off, lol.

OUFF SAD BEBBIES. SO SAD THEY ARE.

grey is really this one's colour. he looks hottesttttttttt in it. it brings out his eyes/skin tone most spectacularly.

oh ab suddenly Awareness™ (*khushi kumari gupta's voice correcting me from the skies* “ACIDITY!!!!!”) jaag utha.

SOMEONE EXPLAIN TO ME WHO THE FUCK IS SETTING OFF FIREWORKS RIGHT OVER A FUCKING HOSPITAL??????? like it's no metaphor or anything, since they've been going off since even before he appeared before her.

the fluctuating of the lights is majorlyyyyyyyyy distracting. it's not just the fairy lights, but even the huge lamps behind them.... those should.... NOT be doing that.

IDIOTS. STOP LOOKING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THAT AND MAKING ME WANT TO DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

simultaneous "i love you."

wow, inappropriate but also AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH [screams till the end of time]

ugh vardhan you're such a loserrrrrrrrrr. get a goddamn life. it's diwali; shouldn't you be with your kid, instead of sitting here alone in your office in the dark?????

"i love you, ishani. i really do. bohut pyaar karta hoon main tumse."

BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH I AM DESTROYED. I AM FUCKING...... LYING ON THE FLOOR IN PIECES. THIS IS JUST SO FUCKING SAD.

"surgery mein kabhi kabhi humein ek pal mein faisla lena pad jaata hai. fayda-nuksaan, sahi-galat ke baare mein nahi soch sakte. uss ek pal mein patient ki jaan kaise bachaaye? bass ussi tarah, uss din asha aur uske bachche ki jaan bachaane ke liye, mujhe jo sahi laga maine wohi kiya. main ek doctor hoon, apne saamne ek ladki aur uske bachche ko main marte kaise dekh sakta tha???"

ugh siddhanttttttttttttttttt yaaaaaaar, TU ITNA ACHCHA KYUN HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII?????? ZINDAGI KUCHAL KE RAKH DETI HAI TUM JAISO KO YAAR.

ok some hardcore 2000s k-soap editing happening here and taking me outta the moment.

iska naatak abhi tak khatam nahi hua.

SO VARDHAN KNOWS THAT SID IS SHASHANK'S KID???? WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT IS HAPPENING HERE???? WHY GO THIS COMPLICATED AND TWISTED ROUTE INSTEAD OF JUST EXPOSING THAT TRUTH TO EVERYONE????? SUCH CONTRIVED BS!!!!!!

GOD SIDDHANT, YOU FUCKING NEED THERAPY. THROWING YOUR WHOLEASS LIFE AWAY TO TRY AND PROTECT A RANDOM UNBORN CLUMP OF CELLS IS NOT THE WAY TO FUCKING DEAL WITH YOUR DADDY ISSUES.

THIS IS NOT HOW I WANTED YOU GETTING ON YOUR KNEES IN FRONT OF HERRRRRRRRRR BUT YES, BEG. BEGGGGGGGGG FOR FORGIVENESS YOU FUCKING DUMBASSSSSSSSS.

bitch, uske tumpar chillane se kya haasil hona hai???? poori zindagi ujaad rakhi hai tuney apne iss Benevolent Bewakoofi™ se.

PHIR I LOVE YOU BOLA. A REAL PASSIONATE ONE THIS TIME. THIS GUY IS FUCKING TRYING TO KILL ME. OF FEELZ AND SADNESS. I'M LITERALLY SO SAD RIGHT NOW.

"i'll always love you.... main..."

FUCK THIS GUY IS REALLY TRYING TO FUCKING MURDER ME MAN.

"pehle toh main pyaar karti thi, ab aur karne lagi hoon. aur yeh pyaar zaroor badhega hi."

ASLKDJSALKDJASLDKJAJD LET THEM BEEEEEE TOGETHERRRRRRRRRRRR THIS IS JUST SO FUCKING UNFAIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR *SHAKES A FIST AT THE SKY*

"kya kamaal ki niraasha phaila rakhi hai tumne sanjivani mein. tumhare maa-baap ne tumhara naam galat rakh diya, haina dr. asha?"

ugh yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar. first of all we have such few female characters here, mardon se bloody bhara pada hai show. upar se iss ek achche compelling female character ka poora ka poora satyanaaash kar diya. main kabhi maaf nahi karoongi writers ko.

blah blah zimmedaari waala gyaan aur amar prem ke vaade, while im just looking at the poor fit of namit's pants in the butt. someone tailor that shit for him. (or don’t. i find pancake butts on hot boys kinda adorable.)

"tumne usse nahi, uski achchaayi ne usse phasaaya."

badaaaaaaaaaaaaa hi kameena insaan hai tu vardhan. narak ki aag mein jalega. if ishani herself doesn't set you on fire in the sanjivani lobby first.

perhaps asha will do the honors? looks toh aise hi de rahi hai. all the best asha. that's one way you can redeem yourself in everyone’s eyes, sis.

"pehle toh main sirf aapse pyaar karti thi. ab hadh se zyaada izzat karti hoon."

lmao ishani admitting that she didn't have any khaas izzat for him earlier.

OUFF ISS PRIDE AUR PYAAR KA KYA HI KARNA HAI IF YOU'RE NOT GETTING CHUMMIS AND/OR ORGASMS OUT OF IT????? GODDDDDDDD. AB TOH ~~~PRIDE KE SAATH~~ APNA HAATH, JAGGANNATH HI HAI TUM DONO BEWAKOOFON KE LIYE, AGLE JANAM TAK.

fuck this episode is..... too much on me. i'm just hella glad that my period is over, or i would slip into a serious depressive episode over this.

but just..... LOOK AT IT. LOOK AT THE WAY HE CAN’T HELP REACHING OUT TO HOLD HER FACE, THEY BOTH KNOW IT’S INAPPROPRIATE AND ARE TRYING TO RESTRAIN THEMSELVES, BUT HE STILL CAN’T STOP TRYING TO PHYSICALLY COMFORT HER (BECAUSE TOUCH IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE, IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN.) AND HE CAN’T COZ HE SHOULDN’T AND HE’S DYING ON THE INSIDE BECAUSE OF IT.

I AM IN LEGIT PHYSICAL PAIN FROM SADNESS RIGHT NOW.

i wanna hate asha, but i can't. coz i can really empathize and understand the desperation with which she wants to hold on to her current life, against the forces of patriarchy trying to crush her free will so brutally .

ok maybe i hate her a little, if she'll listen to this fucker and actively make sid's life hard, moreso than what has already transpired.

MAN WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM GOD I NEED ISHANI AND ANJALI TO TEAM UP AND KICK THIS ASSHOLE'S ASSSSSSSSSSS FOR MESSING WITH THEIR LIVES AND THE LIVES OF THEIR DUDES (DAD/BROTHER/BOYFRIEND) SO BADLYYYYYYYYYYY

———————————————————————

tell me sidIsha ke andar ke detectives phir jaag uthenge and will resolve this bullllllllllllshit within next weeeeeek, COZ I HONESTLY HAVE AN ANXIETY TUMMY ACHE RN.

[ofgrveyards]

Hey angels, I’m Faye, and I’m extremely excited to be apart of this group with you all! I’m 22, I use she/her pronouns, and I’m in the EST timezone. This intro is....a whole ass mess and it’s too long, but I’m throwing it @ you anyways! My discord’s fuck ya chicken strips !#2658 if anyone would prefer to plot there! 

─ *✧ [ DANIELLE CAMPBELL. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ] little hollow welcomes you, JOSEPHINE HAMILTON. an/a TWENTY-FOUR ( 500 ) year old known for being a PARAMEDIC, have you settled in yet ? i’m sure as a VAMPIRE you’ll have no problem fitting in but your COMPASSIONATE + RECKLESS personality might have something different to say. residents have described you as candles burning in the dark, daydreaming about a different life, & open windows at night, i wonder what that means ? [ faye. 22. est. she/her. ]

PAST,

Born in 1519 to a seamstress and a blacksmith, Josephine Hamilton’s early life was spent indoors, shielded from the death and decay that played such a prominent role in London’s history.

Her mother, Agatha, was taken by the plague when she was just 10 years old, leaving her with just her father and younger brother.

The next fourteen years of her life were spent fighting tooth and nail to build a better life for herself and her aforementioned brother. Their father, Joseph, spent more time drinking than providing for his two children, and as a result, became quite belligerent and abusive. 

This was, in part, because of his children’s magical abilities passed down from their mother’s side, to which he refused to attempt to understand and instead forced them to suppress.

Just before Jo’s twenty-fourth birthday, the stress of containing her powers combined with her fear of her father becomes too much and she blows, quite literally. The windows in their flat explode and the entire block is lit aflame shortly thereafter, leaving nothing but ashes in her wake.

After deciding to leave their father to fend for himself in the burning building, she grabs her brother, any belongings they can easily carry, and sets off into the night.

With no surviving relatives in the immediate area and little to no money to their name, they begin their commute to France to visit their mother’s great aunt.

While waiting to catch a boat in Folkstone, Josephine has another episode, resulting in flooding in the town surrounding the docks. This is where she meets the vampire who turns her, who takes pity on the woman’s declining mental stability and lack of bodily control.

That very same vampire, who takes herself and her brother into their home, helps her acclimate to life as a vampire for a few years. This time is spent learning how to feed, control her urges, present as a human in public, and how to compel. 

The final of the four is not something she often used, as she found it to be manipulative to the point of losing what was left of her humanity. She also refused to force feed, and other than her first year, has only ever fed on consenting parties or through other means.

Her brother is turned by them a few years after her, as she refused to be the one to do it to her own flesh and blood. Once he was acclimated to life as a vampire, they set off on their own and travel around London aimlessly.

In her spare time, Jo studied everything she could get her hands on to become a doctor. But as it was a profession society deemed unfit for women at the time, she had to wait.

She went from hospital to hospital working as an aid to patients, biding her time. Eventually, in 1862, when learning about a school in Boston for Women to be professionally trained in the medical field as a physician, she drops everything to head to the states. 

The siblings live there from 1863-1874, during which she also attends a school for nursing. Not long after, they return to England, where she works as a nurse until 1892 when women are officially allowed to practice medicine. 

With the help of her brother and another doctor at the hospital she’d been living at, she opens up her own clinic in a more rural part of England. This is where she stays until the mid 1900′s, when she and her brother part ways. 

Josephine then moves to the states in attempt to continue her practice without raising any red flags. She starts out in Boston where she received her training, then moves on from there, going state to state every few years.

PRESENT,

It was six years ago to date when Jo moved to Little Hollow, originally intending to open her own practice like she has in so many other cities, but she decides to postpone it when she realizes just how significant the supernatural population is in the town.

Due to the considerable fortune earned through the many facilities she’s built over the years that are still in her name, she buys herself a nice house in town with a white-picket fence and a dog. The life she lives behind closed doors may be unspeakable to most, but she does her best to be relatively normal in spite of it.

Continuing working even though she doesn’t need to is a decision that’s made due to her innate desire to continue helping people to the best of her ability. `

Becoming a Paramedic felt like the best option for her, considering she never spends very long with any of the patients, so not only are they unable to get fully acquainted with her, there’s always a change of pace.

Being so settled has become a foreign feeling, though she’s grown to thoroughly enjoy having a home, feeling like she belongs.

She’s fairly active in things around town, known to donate to charities and help the homeless. She also dips into the hospital blood supply on occasion for vampires looking to stray from feeding directly from the source.

When it comes to inter-species politics, she tries to stay out of trouble with the other supernatural people in Little Hallow, instead opting to attempt to keep the peace.

Of course, this doesn’t always go over well, considering she’s got such a big heart and wants to keep everyone happy.

PERSONALITY,

Kind, gentle, soft, dedicated, passionate, thoughtful, stubborn. She’s also enthusiastic, eager to please, and wildly ambitious; both at school/work and in her personal life.

She’s a certified Mom Friend™ and proud of it.

Would literally go to any length necessary if it means keeping those she cares about safe.

Josephine’s got to be one of the most attentive people when it comes to her friendships and loved ones. She is always taking time to spend time with them no matter how busy she may be, will stop whatever she’s doing if they are in need, and gives the best gifts. Her philosophy is that if she’s got to spend her money somewhere, it may as well be on others.

She tends to see the best in people, even those who don’t deserve a moment of her time.

Honestly??? She’s the softest vampire ever, probably much too soft to have survived as long as she has.

Is very, very protective of the less fortunate, be that financially, physically, or in minorities. She doesn’t believe in violence as the answer, but hates any prejudices people may have even more. If she sees anyone being mistreated, she definitely steps in ready for a fight.

MISC,

MBTI:

ALIGNMENT:

CHARACTER TROPES: The Idealist, Nice Girl, Running Gag, Workaholic, there are more but I’ll never get off the trope site if I keep going.

CHARACTER INFLUENCES: Leslie Knope, Kimmy Schmidt, Peggy Carter, April Kepner, Phoebe Buffay.

WANTED CONNECTIONS,

Friends, friends, all the friends.

Frienemies/ex-friends ( this is so hard for her bc she tries to see the best in people, but if they’re a hateful person, she’s not against writing them off ).

A best friend would be super cool, lord knows my girl needs someone to confide in and to turn to when things get rough.

The vampire who turns her and her brother is definitely a wc!

An old friend she’s known for centuries, someone who has seen her grow through the ages.

A neighbor, or maybe a roommate she’s asked to live with her, because the house she bought is so big and she gets lonely lmao

ex fwb maybe???

Enemy turned friend!

Yeah, idk, these are all super random and probably lowkey shitty, but I’m down for anything !!!

[nellie-elizabeth]

Grey's Anatomy: Silent All These Years (15x19)

Well, that was intense.

Cons:

I want to start by saying that it's a little bit weird to talk about an episode like this as just a simple episode of TV, because any critique I have of it will inevitably come across as insensitive, and that's the last thing I want to do. But I am going to discuss some stuff that was maybe less-than-perfect about this episode, and I hope anyone reading this understands that I'm just trying to look at the episode as a story told on TV, and hope that's enough.

One thing that struck me as kind of strange was that this episode was really focusing on the feelings of guilt that survivors of abuse and/or sexual assault feel, because they feel like they deserved it, or could have done more to stop it. So, we learn that Jo's mother was "date raped," and then Jo's patient Abby was at a bar, drinking and flirting. But we then learn that Abby was walking down a dark street and was followed by a man. I'm not saying this doesn't happen. Of course it does. But most rapes are perpetrated by someone that the survivor knows, and I was waiting for a story that was a little bit less... in your face? I know a lot of people who have been raped, and many of their stories don't involve struggling or fighting or getting beat up. But it was still rape. I felt like this episode dealt with three extreme cases - Jo was physically and mentally abused by her husband for years. Her mother was held down while she struggle to escape. And Abby was followed down the street by a stranger, and also beat very badly. These stories happen, but so do the ones where someone feels scared and confused, or is black-out drunk, and they have a really difficult time sorting through their feelings and admitting what really happened to them. I don't know if I'm articulating myself particularly well... I just thought that in an episode that involved several stories of assault and abuse, it was odd that none of them really represented what I think of as the "typical" experience for something like this.

Some smaller notes to mention, too: I liked that Jo's mom was actually really eloquent about what happened to her, because it came across like she had gone to a lot of therapy and she was mindfully repeating some of the stuff she's probably talked to professionals about. That was great - I just wish it had been a bit more explicitly stated. Obviously both of these women sitting in that diner have probably imagined what they would say to each other if they ever met... but they were both maybe a bit too polished about it? They were both able to say so clearly and concisely how they were feeling, and it didn't feel realistic to me, in some way.

The same can be said of the scene where Abby breaks down and tells Jo and Teddy what happened. She makes some really salient points about how she's afraid that she will be ridiculed and not believed if she comes forward. The drinks she had that night will condemn her, while the drinks her rapist had will excuse him. It's all super true, super powerful stuff that's important to say and to hear. But it's like... too well-written. I wouldn't expect a woman in Abby's current situation to be able to be so eloquent about what happened and what exactly she's afraid will happen. I'm not saying she wasn't thinking all those things, but if you've ever been really upset or scared, you'll probably know that your words don't come out perfectly right. Am I even making any sense with this review? Probably not!

Pros:

This was a really powerful episode, and it was well-written, well-acted, and incredibly moving in so many amazing ways.

I think my favorite thing about Jo's conversation with her birth-mother in that cafe is that it feels unfinished. Above, I was saying how some of the dialogue felt a little too practiced, but the way the conversation just kind of... ended was really powerful and felt true to life. They did their best to talk. Jo did her best to forgive. And then they walked away, and that's that. I don't know if they'll get to talk more, if they'll be a part of each other's lives. But their first conversation didn't go particularly well, and that's how life is sometimes.

I also really liked the fact that Jo was angry at seeing this great life that her birth mother had. A nice house, a husband and two kids... and Jo was left abandoned, and grew up in the foster system, and married an abusive monster. Rationally, that's not Jo's mother's fault. She could just as easily have ended up in a loving home. And yet that anger comes from a deep, true place within Jo. It comes from a place of hurt. I also think that Jo had constructed a narrative in her mind that she could live with, and to see that narrative fall apart in the face of reality was probably enormously traumatic. And yet as angry as she was, she tried to form a connection with the woman across from her. She reached her hand out and touched her mother, and her mother pulled back from her. Their conversation was brutal, and honest, and full of hard truths, and it didn't bridge the gap between them, no matter how bad they might have wanted it to. They both did their best, and it wasn't enough, and that's... real.

Back at the hospital, Jo has been avoiding Alex and trying to push everything aside, but her patient Abby makes her confront the reality of things very quickly. One of the amazing things about this episode is that Abby is the center of the story of her own experience. Obviously we're drawing parallels, as a viewer, between what happened to Abby and what happened to Jo's mother. That's intentional. But Jo doesn't spend her time with Abby falling apart about her own life. She's focused entirely on her patient, and it's her strength and compassion that helps Abby survive it.

Obviously the most moving part of the episode is when all of the women line the hallway so that Abby can be safely transferred to the OR without having to see any men at all. Most of those women don't know why they're there, or what exactly happened, but they know that a woman needs their help and support, and they all provide it. This whole scene just made me think about so many women who have gone through such horrible trauma, and who probably weren't able to have an all-female surgical team. I had never thought about how these two aspects of sexism and the patriarchy connect before. Men dominating the professional world has led to women being in a position where they have no choice but to be treated by and talked to by men after being assaulted. It's incredibly moving that Abby didn't have to suffer that, that she had Jo, and Qadri, and Teddy, and all of the female doctors and staff to pull her through.

The actress playing Abby was absolutely incredible. She did such a good job, and I just want to take a moment to praise her. Usually I don't bother looking up actor names that I don't already know, but this time I actually took the five seconds to do that: Khalilah Joi. She was outstanding.

Before I wrap up this review, I want to talk a bit about the men in this episode. I think it's so important that women were centered in this story, that most of the screen-time was with them, that their stories were the ones being told. But we see these subtle moments where we understand the places that good men have in these narratives. There's the way Andrew instinctively trusts Jo and removes himself from the situation at Jo's urging. There's the way that Alex tries to be supportive, and although he's hurt by Jo's rebuffs, he lets her walk away at the end.

And most importantly, there's the conversation between Ben and Tuck, who is old enough to be "talking" with his first girlfriend. The one teeny tiny thing I wish could have been different about this conversation is that Ben could have framed the conversation in a more gender-neutral way. Sure, Tuck likes a girl, but he might also like people of other genders... but even more important than that, Ben was teaching Tuck about how to respect consent, but he might also have mentioned that if he, Tuck, ever felt uncomfortable about someone else, he needs to be vigilant about his own safety as well. That's such a nit-pick though, because I think the conversation was really great, and the sports analogy was pitch-perfect, and I'm glad we get to see Ben talking to his step-son in this frank and important way.

I think I've used the words "important" and "powerful" like ten times each in this review, but it's true. This episode was important. And it was well done. People will always take episodes like this and dissect them with a fine-toothed comb, just the way I've done, because it feels like so much more than just another episode of a long-running medical drama. In some ways it is, but in lots of ways, it's another episode with familiar characters and satisfying drama, executed by wonderful actors. I think this episode worked on both levels.

9/10

[misfxts]

Josephine ‘Jo-Jo’ Preston || Osamu Drabble

*Contains blood, and other content that may be considered graphic

*Also really long. Sorry mobile users.

“...What should we do? He can’t just...stop talking..!”

“I don’t know--! Maybe a therapist or something...L-look on the bright side dear, he’s eating, he’s walking...he’s still acting like a little boy shou--”

“But he’s not talking Jirou..! And he hasn’t been talking for months..! What if he’s like this for the rest of his life? How is he going to make new friends?”

“Cut your son some slack Bridget..! It’s been a very hard year on him...he saw his best friend on her deathbed...the court battle...and now he can’t see her anymore..”

“Don’t remind me..”

As his parents tried to discreetly argue about in the living room with no avail, Osamu was quiet as he listened to them bicker about what to do with him as he laid in bed. He should be sleeping, but sleep is very hard to do right now.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see how fast everything changed for him.

And for Jo-Jo.

Her name was Josephine Rose Preston, but preferred to be called Jo-Jo. She was Osamu’s next door neighbor and Osamu’s best friend. She was considered a strange girl, not counting the obvious vitiligo patches on her body and the vibrant green of her eyes. She liked the color orange-- of all colors. Her more normal likes were bunnies and dancing.

There was many a day after school where the pair spent time in the study of Jo-Jo’s home, with Josephine dancing to the tune of Osamu playing Hot Cross Buns on a piano. Or other nights spent at Osamu’s house, watching cartoons together.

“I wanna be a ballerina when I grow up. What about you Ozzy? What do you wanna do when you grow up?” Josephine asked one day.

“I wanna be a doctor Jo-Jo, just like Otousan and Okaasan!” Osamu stated with his little chest puffed out, causing his friend to giggle.

“Oooh, that sounds like a lot of hard work Ozzy...I wanna help you become a doctor! Let me help you!”

Osamu almost immediately nodded at the proposal. “Of course you can help me! As long as I get to help you become the best ballerina ever!”

“Deal!” They said at the same time, laughing up a storm at how they spoke at the same time.

Josephine helped Osamu with studying from the complicated medical books they found in his dad’s stuff, despite not fully understanding the material. While Osamu helped Josephine sharpen her dancing skills by playing the piano with all the classic ballerina songs. He wasn’t skilled enough to play it, but Josephine didn’t care, just as Osamu didn’t care if Jo-Jo didn’t get what she was helping him study with. The system the two had worked great for the both of them.

Until one day Josephine stopped dancing.

The change was slow, at first she was just exhausted all the time. Then she kept going home early from school, then away for days on end. Only when she collapsed at school did her parents finally take the hint and took her to the hospital. Conveniently the hospital where Osamu’s mother worked.

The doctors weren’t sure what to think of Jo-Jo’s condition, but they did agree on one thing-- Josephine would have to become a permanent resident of the hospital so she can be monitored closely.

It was hard on Jo-Jo; being away from her home and school, being hooked up to big beeping machines, having doctors and nurses going in and out of her room...It was all very stressful for a young child to go through. Thankfully, Osamu tried his darnedest to be there for his friend as often as he could-- Always going to visit her after school and filling her in on the latest schoolyard gossip, helping her with homework, even sleeping in the same bed as Jo-Jo to calm her nerves. It was comforting to the girl to have her best friend there, even more so since he was so comfortable in that environment. If he felt safe, then there was no reason for her not feel safe either.

Osamu’s mother was another familiar face for Josephine in this sterile place, Bridget specifically requested to be assigned with her care just for that reason. It was a relief for Jo-Jo’s parents also, to know that one of the best nurses they knew was taking care of their little girl.

Among the medical team in charge of Josephine’s care, there was one particular doctor that stuck out like a sore, egotistical thumb. 

His name was Doctor Keaton Tenamore, a brilliant doctor who was good at his job. But was an awful teammate; convinced he knew everything, a lone wolf, and above all else-- he hated children.

He never outwardly showed it to anyone, but anyone could put it together that he had a very particular dislike of them. Scowling, harsh words to the child, a push that was more forceful than it should’ve been..yes, Dr. Tenamore hated children, and he made sure that they were aware of it.

Osamu had to put up with Dr. Tenamore’s subtle hatred of children more than any other child within the hospital. Probably because Osamu was a constant in Tenamore’s professional life-- a constant squeaky annoyance that is. Osamu tried to not let Tenamore bother him, so long as Tenamore directed his anger towards the boy and not the other kids with lots on their plate to begin with, Osamu would bear it for them. 

This also meant not telling his parents of what Tenamore said or did to Osamu or the other kids. They didn’t need to know, what if the subtle hatred became a lot more obvious if he told someone? 

He really wanted too though. It hurt the little boy to hear Tenamore call his best friend ‘a drain on the hospital’s resources’ and there was nothing he could do aside from comfort Josephine.

“Don’t listen to him Jojo...there’s enough stuff for everyone at the hospital..you’re not bad for being sick..” He spoke softly to his friend as Jo-Jo clung to him, whimpering quietly.

“I wanna go home Ozzy, I wanna go home so bad..” She muttered, her voice soft and weak, little body wasting away from the illness.

“I know Jo-Jo...I know..”

It was the night shift, Osamu had elected to have another sleepover with Josephine, he wore his nicest pajamas and gotten himself comfortable under the covers of Josephine’s bed. The boy was slowly drifting off to dreamland until Jo-Jo’s coughing snapped him out of it.

He didn’t mind, Jo-Jo couldn’t help being sick. Osamu sat up right on the bed and patted Josephine’s back, reassuring her that everything was okay and that it was normal for her to be coughing as Josephine coughed into her hand.

Then, Josephine stopped coughing, slowly moving her hand away from her mouth..to reveal a small splattering of blood on her hand.

Osamu and Josephine stared at each other in horror. Jo-Jo was terrified, and Osamu was terrified for her! What were they supposed to do? Both were too scared to move-- frozen in time. It felt like they were staring at each other for eons..then more bloody coughing erupted from Josephine brought them back down to earth.

“Ahhh--!! Jo-Jo!” Osamu jumped out of the bed, looking for something to hold the blood, eventually settling on a kidney dish and gave it to his friend to hold under her mouth. Loud beeping from one of the machines highlighting the urgency of what was happening. “E-everything’s okay Jo-Jo--! I promise!”

“G-get...” Josephine managed to mutter out, blood dripping from her lips. “Get...help...Ozzy--!! Help m-me..!”

Osamu nodded quickly. He rushed out into the hallway. Looking around for a doctor or nurse, eyes falling onto Dr. Tenamore. He sprints as fast as his little legs could carry him.

“Dr. Tenamore--!! Dr. Tenamore--!!” Osamu shouted, grabbing Tenamore’s coat-sleeve and tugging on it. “I-It’s Jo-Jo--! She’s...she’s..!”

“Get off of me--!” Tenamore shoved Osamu to the ground. “Just because you’re little boy blue doesn’t mean you own the place, you little shit.”

“N-No--! There’s something wrong with Jo-Jo--!” Osamu begged, tears pricking the sides of his eyes.

“Yeah, what else is new.” Tenamore rolled his eyes. “Don’t think she’s getting special treatment because you’re royalty around here. Get lost!!”

Osamu scrambled to his feet and ran away. The tears making their way down his face, coating his cheeks with glossy lines. He didn’t know where else to go, so he ran back to his friend, who continued to cough.

“Jo-Jo...please hang on okay? I-I’m gonna find some help--”

Josephine spat blood in Osamu’s face. 

Then Osamu heard screaming.

It wasn’t until his mother came in and pulled Osamu away did he realize the screaming was his own.

Court rooms were scary.

There were so many people staring at him, eager to hear what he had to say about Dr. Keaton Tenamore, who was on trial for the mismanagement of his patients, many of them children. What Osamu wouldn’t give to hide himself under his mother’s coat and just disappear, he would have to settle with her sitting beside him, holding his hand.

Osamu’s parents were hesitant to have him on the stand (or to have him in the courtroom to begin with), but as the prosecutor reminded them beforehand: Osamu had valuable testimony, and was gonna give them the edge they needed to put Tenamore in jail.

Osamu agreed to this too, he wanted Tenamore to get in trouble for letting Josephine get hurt because he didn’t like the young boy. But it was still scary.

“Hey...Can I call you Osamu?” Spoke the prosecutor, voice soft as to not scare him.

“...A-Ah...y...yes..sorry.” He didn’t realize he zoned out.

“It’s okay. You’re nervous, it’s okay to be nervous Osamu, no one’s gonna hurt you here. You’re safe.” The prosecutor assures. “Now..you told us when you saw that your friend was coughing up blood, you went to go get a doctor to help her...is that doctor here in this court room now?”

“Yes..”

“Can you point him out for the jury Osamu? Don’t be scared, you’re protected here.”

Osamu shifted in his seat nervously. He didn’t move for a moment...then he felt his mother give his hand a reassuring squeeze. Taking a deep breath, he slowly raised a finger and pointed to Tenamore, who was donned in a orange jumpsuit and directly across from him in the courtroom.

“T-there...it was Doctor T...Tenamore...that I went too..”

“Without a doubt?”

“..Yes..W-without a doubt..”

Tenamore slammed his hands onto the table and started shouting. The entire court erupted into chatter as the Judge slammed his gavel, demanding order. Osamu buried his face in his mothers side, he couldn’t hear what everyone was yelling about. But there was one voice that rose above the rest that Osamu could make out, it was the prosecutor.

“Let the record show that the witness has pointed directly at the defendant.”

Osamu’s testimony was all the jury needed to lock Tenamore up for four years-- the standard for medical malpractice. Tenamore lost his medical license and wouldn’t be able to practice for a long time. Which was a relief, the kids at the hospital wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore (or any other patient for that matter). 

If only it happened sooner.

In the weeks during the court battle, Josephine’s condition only worsened. Her parents had decided that it was best for her if they moved somewhere else. A city with a children's hospital where Josephine was going to get around-the-clock care. They didn’t want to pull her away from her best friend, but the hospital where she was staying at currently could only do so much, it was their best option for the health of their child.

It doesn’t take much to understand how Osamu was feeling. Watching his friend waste away, to see her on her death bed, to have Tenamore scream at him across the courtroom floor as he feared for his little life....only for his best friend to move far away at the end of it all, where he wasn’t going to be able to see her anymore.

It was enough to stun him into silence.

A few months had passed, and Osamu refused to talk. No matter what, he couldn’t open his mouth to speak. Only to drink and eat, never to utter a word.

It was concerning enough to his parents that they spent many nights arguing about it as they were now. Osamu felt guilty about it, but he just couldn’t talk, no matter how hard he tried. His mind was always racing about those events...about Jo-Jo...his best friend..

Then Osamu had a thought. Multiple actually-- a train of thought.

‘Why was Tenamore so mean to those kids? He was a doctor, he was supposed to heal them! Not treat them as burdens! What was the point of becoming a doctor if he didn’t have a heart?

What was it about heartless people getting jobs that require a heart? And why are there so many of them running the world?

Maybe...maybe they need an example..someone to show them how it’s done. Remind them that this was a job of..what was that big word? Come-pass-shun?

Maybe they need Doctor Osamu.’

It was a chilly but sunny fall morning. Osamu stumbled out of his room and sat at the table. Yawning quietly.

“Good morning Osamu.” Jirou nodded to his son as he read the morning paper.

“...H-Hello Otousan..Okaasan..”

Jirou and Bridget tried very hard to contain their shocked looks and the excitement they felt upon hearing their little boy talk for the first time in months.

“A-ah..Good morning dear!” Bridget piped up, soft smile on her face. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Um..” He looked around for a moment. “D...Doctor Osamu would like some cereal for breakfast, p-please..H-He wants...he wants c...cheerios today..”

Jirou and Bridget shared a confused glance. But did get their son his bowl of cereal as he asked.

They were just happy he was talking again.

[ronaldsmcrae86]

How to Write a Bio Like a Superhero (Don’t Do These 6 Things)

Writing a good bio is hard.

You have to knock ’em dead with two or three dazzling sentences that show you’re a likable, credible, and accomplished expert.

When readers read your bio (aka byline), they must believe you’re the answer to their prayers — a superhero who will swoop in and solve the big problem keeping them awake at night.

(And if you’re a freelance writer, your short professional bio should make a potential client want to hire you on the spot.)

No pressure, right?

Here’s the good news:

Learning how to write a compelling bio that dazzles readers doesn’t require feats of strength or the ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

And, best of all, it’s a process that works whether you’re doing a professional bio, an author bio, or a Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram bio.

Let’s dive in.

But first, we’ll look at a few short bio examples that make readers run for the exits…

The 6 Common Bio Blunders That Make You Look Like an Amateur (And What to Do Instead)

1. Making It All About You

I’m Jill — a free-spirit with a passion for quilting, bird watching, Tai Chi, and calligraphy.”

Thanks for sharing, Jill. But do I really care? Nah.

It’s confusing, I know. “Bio” is short for biography, which suggests it should be all about you.  But the main purpose of your author bio is to show your audience how you can help them solve their problem with the professional skills you bring to the table.

So, it’s not about you, Jill. It’s about them.

What to Do Instead:

In this post on sensory words, using almost the same number of words as Jill, Kevin gives us just enough information about himself to tell us what he does and how he helps his audience.

As the Editor in Chief at Smart Blogger, Kevin J. Duncan helps readers learn the ropes of blogging, hone their writing skills, and find their unique voice so they can stand out from the crowd.

It’s clear, precise, and focused on the outcome, not on Kevin. He uses phrases like “hone their writing skills,” and “stand out from the crowd,” which directly target the deep-rooted desires of aspiring writers. He speaks their language.

Here’s another tip: It’s usually best to write in the third person, as Kevin does in the above bio example. It’s more professional.

2. Writing a Condensed Resume, or a Laundry List of Accomplishments

John Brown is a qualified personal trainer with a sports medicine degree from Fremont College, as well as professional certifications from the American College of Sports Medicine and the National Strength and Conditioning Association.

Your professional biography is not a dumping ground for your career path, job titles, and qualifications. It’s a tiny elevator pitch that’s selling you as a credible solver of your reader’s problems.

So don’t list every degree you have or talk about your first job out of school. Readers don’t really care. They only care whether or not you have the solutions they are looking for.

What to Do Instead:

Your bio should only include details about yourself that directly relate to your intended audience’s problem.

Think about your career, education, and skill set, and then carefully select the most pertinent facts that are going to impress the audience you are writing for. Like this:

Jessi Rita Hoffman is a book editor who helps authors get their books out of their heads and into print. A former publishing house editor-in-chief, she has edited books for Donald Trump and bestselling/award-winning authors. Visit her blog for writers here.

Jessi tells us the most important thing about herself (that she is a book editor), and what she can do for her audience (get their books into print), while establishing her credibility (“best-selling,” “editor-in-chief”).

Everything she mentions is designed to appeal to the audience she’s trying to reach.

3. Sharing Irrelevant Details or Stuff You Think Your Audience Should Care About

Joe Brown is a content and affiliate marketer with a passion for snowboarding. When he’s not at his computer, you can find him at his nearest half-pipe, or maybe on Twitter @joeb, where he likes to tweet about his pet python. Alternatively, try his email at joe@xyz.com, and he’ll probably shoot you back a list of his favorite origami folds.

This sample bio is from someone whose expertise is content and affiliate marketing, although he hides it well.

Much like your degrees and career path, your audience doesn’t care about your hobbies, passions, and personal details either, unless they directly impact the problem they’re trying to solve.

What to Do Instead:

As mentioned earlier, only share the details that your audience will find relevant.

If you’re mad keen on knitting and you’re writing for an arts and crafts blog, then go ahead and mention your passion. It’s relevant. But don’t tell them about your cat, unless Fluffy can knit too.

4. Trying to Cram Too Much In

Okay, so you’ve managed to include only relevant details about yourself, so you’re safe. Right?

Not if you included too many of them.

Like this one from Jo. She’s had an impressive career with many accomplishments, but her bio feels endless:

Jo Smith is a personal finance blogger with 20 years of experience in accounting, international banking, and financial planning. She started as a trainee bank teller in Little Rock, Arkansas, before completing her accounting degree and climbing the corporate ladder at Citibank. More recently, Jo decided to follow her dreams and leave the safety net of her six-figure salary to start her own coaching business.

This is way too much information.

Writing your own bio can be hard. Sometimes you’re too close to the subject matter to realize what’s important and what can be left out. But your bio isn’t the place to share your entire life story and every single accomplishment, and it certainly shouldn’t have an endless word count. You need to be picky.

What to Do Instead:

With some careful pruning, the real gems hidden away in Jo’s personal biography can be given center stage:

Jo Smith is a personal finance blogger and coach with 20 years of experience in the high-powered world of international banking and accountancy. Jo is on a mission to help everyday families build sustainable wealth, stop stressing about their financial security, and start living the life they’ve always wanted.

Go through your bio word by word and ask yourself, “Does this bit of information make any difference to my audience?”

If the answer is no, take it out, and limit your bio to two or three sentences.

5. Being Overly Formal (a.k.a. Boring)

Joe Jones is an accomplished marketing consultant who specializes in the field of physician practices. He works with medical centers and practitioners to maximize their online real estate, garner new market segments, and engender business growth.

If you’re anything like me, you had to read this bio more than once to get a sense of what Joe does. It’s way too formal. Most people will just glaze over this.

What to Do Instead:

Instead of using stilted words and phrases like “maximize their online real estate” and “engender business growth”, Joe missed a great opportunity to showcase his personal brand and make himself stand out from the crowd.

Perhaps he could have started with something like:

“Joe Jones is an expert marketer who can take your medical practice from queasy to fighting fit…”

Do you see how that might grab a few more eyeballs, cut through the noise, and make an impact with his target audience of doctors?

6. Being Vague (or Overly Woo-Woo)

Cecile is a life coach and devoted mom. She loves day breaks and giving things a go. She is passionate about her fellow humans and wants to be their inspiration for growth, as they find their way through the dark to their true self.

Hands up, whoever doesn’t have a clue what this person is talking about. What does she do? How does she help solve my problem? Why should I be interested in her?

You need to avoid ambiguous phrases like “inspiration for growth” and “find their way through the dark.” These phrases might have a nice ring to them, but they mean very little to your reader. They’re too open to interpretation.

What to Do Instead:

You don’t have time to beat around the bush in your bio. Get straight to the point. Like this:

Cecile is a qualified self-development coach who is passionate about helping professional women develop the skills and self-assurance they need to take control of their working lives. Download her free guide, How to Quit Your Dead-End Job Without Risking Your Income, and open the door to your dream career today.

In two sentences, Cecile tells me everything I need to know about what she does and how she can help me. No fluff, no messing about, and a juicy opt-in bribe to seal the deal.

How to Write a Bio That Begs to be Clicked

Introduce Yourself with a Bang

Call Out Your Audience and Say How You Help Them

Offer an Irresistible Reason to Click

So now you can see where you might’ve gone wrong with your bio after you started your blog, and you’re dying to write a new version of it. But how do you ensure your next bio won’t commit the same blunders?

Easy. Just follow this simple three-step process to write a professional bio that your ideal readers can’t resist clicking.

1. Introduce Yourself with a Bang

This is where you tell the audience who you are and what makes you different (while avoiding the common blunders we’ve just discussed). You need to spark their interest and curiosity and get them to say, “Tell me more.”

Let’s start with this example from a blogger in the personal development niche.

Sue Smith is a self-help writer and coach with a degree in psychology…

This tells me what Sue does, but it’s rather dull and same-y in a sea full of personal development blogs. For a first sentence, it’s too bland. There’s nothing here to set her apart or pique our interest.

Let’s give it a twist:

Self-help writer, Sue Smith, is part social scientist, part agony aunt, who…

That sounds a bit more interesting. Sue manages to appeal to her audience on different levels by sounding educated, professional, and personable at the same time. Describing herself as an “agony aunt” downplays the more clinical “social scientist.”

I’m curious to know more, and it certainly makes her distinctive.

But there’s another angle Sue could take:

Sue Smith is a certified psychologist who specializes in beating social anxiety.

Now, this one is more similar to the first example, but the difference is that it adds more credibility — “certified psychologist” sounds much more credible than “has a degree in,” which suggests she’s fresh out of college — but it also sets her apart more.

She has a specialty, which gives her ideas on the topic more weight than others. If you suffer from social anxiety, you’d want to listen to the expert on it, right?

Compare also:

Sue Smith’s books on beating social anxiety have won her international acclaim. She has been featured as an expert on Psychology Today, The Oprah Winfrey Show, and Good Morning America.

This version goes even further in establishing Sue’s credibility. Not only has she published multiple books on the topic of social anxiety, but she’s even been featured on some well-known media channels, adding social proof to her expertise.

We’ve talked before about not delivering a laundry list of accomplishments, but if you have specific accomplishments that make you stand out, those are worth including.

Here’s an excellent bio example that both offers a point of interest and adds credibility:

Jessica’s outside-the-box approach to business plan writing has helped her clients collectively raise almost $50 million in financing to start and grow new businesses. Sign up for her 5-part business plan training series for FREE here so you can get your business plan done and get your money sooner.

Jessica doesn’t just say she’ll help you write a business plan, she mentions she has an “outside-the-box approach,” which immediately makes you curious what that approach is. Then she steps it up even more by mentioning her approach has collectively raised $50 million in financing. That’s nothing to sneeze at and creates instant credibility.

It’s an excellent bio that will absolutely pique her audience’s interest.

2. Call Out Your Audience and Say How You Help Them

Remember, this isn’t about you, it’s about what you can do for your audience. So you need to define who they are and what problem of theirs (their key fear or desire) you can solve.

You should aim for both a logical and emotional connection.  It’s tough, but do-able.

Let’s take Kim, a blogger in the parenting niche:

Kim’s passion in writing is to inspire other parents to not just “hang in there” or “make it through” but to thrive. She does this through blogging at kimbiasottotoday.wordpress.com and speaking engagements.

By using language most parents will relate to and zeroing in on their fears, Kim makes a strong emotional connection. At the same time, there’s no mistaking the practical (logical) solution Kim offers.

Note: Of course, Kim’s bio would be even further improved if she had a call to action that linked to an incentive rather than her homepage. More on that in the next step!

Here’s another example:

Jessica Blanchard, registered dietitian and Ayurvedic practitioner, helps busy people re-energize with super simple food, yoga, and wellness strategies that work. Grab your free 7-Day Plan and learn to eat, move, and live better in ten minutes a day.

Jessica clarifies immediately who she helps (busy people) and how she helps them (by re-energizing them through food, yoga, and wellness strategies).

You must be absolutely clear about this. If readers can’t identify themselves in your bio and see you have the solution they’re looking for, they will move on.

3. Offer an Irresistible Reason to Click

You’ve told your audience who you are, what you do, and how you can help them. You’ve impressed them with your credentials and sparked their curiosity.

They’re ready to move to second base, but they need that last push. An irresistible reason to click through to your site and sign up. You need to offer an incentive.

Take a look at this bio:

Henneke Duistermaat is an irreverent copywriter and business writing coach. She’s on a mission to stamp out gobbledygook and to make boring business blogs sparkle. Get her free 16-Part Snackable Writing Course For Busy People and learn how to enchant your readers and win more business.

Boom! In 46 carefully curated words, Henneke tells us who she is, what she does, how she can help, and then gives us a gold-plated reason for parting with our email address.

Her free report is 16 parts, but it’s “snackable,” which makes it sound very easy to digest. And it’s for “busy people,” which shows Henneke understands her audience. She promises results and cleverly relates this back to her own blog, Enchanting Marketing.

Unfortunately, we can’t all steal Henneke’s bio, but we can use it as a fine example of how to write our own.

Ready to Write Your Best Bio Ever?

Writing a bio like a superhero is simple, but it’s not easy, so give your bio the time it requires. You should brainstorm several options for each of the steps.

Whether they’re concluding an article you’ve written or they’re inside your Instagram bio (or Twitter bio, Facebook bio, LinkedIn profile, or, heck, any other social media profile), a great bio is hard to craft. But, they are also one of the most effective pieces of marketing you can create when you get it right.

You now know how to write a bio your audience will love. They’ll want to know more and they won’t be able to resist your free offer.

They’ll see you as a credible, personable problem-solver. Their problem-solver.

And they’ll click through to your personal website, ready and willing to hand over their email address to their new blogging superhero.

You.

Note: For a handy visual reminder of the six bio blunders you can download or share on your own website, check out the image below:

Embed This Infographic On Your Site:

<!—– Copy and Paste This Code Into Your Post —-><a href=”https://smartblogger.com/how-to-write-a-bio/”><img src=”https://smartblogger.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/6-common-blunders-v3.png” alt=”The 6 Common Bio Blunders That Make You Look Like an Amateur (And What to Do Instead)” width=”700px” class=”noa3lazy”/></a><br></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <p><a href=”https://smartblogger.com/how-to-write-a-bio/”>The 6 Common Bio Blunders That Make You Look Like an Amateur (And What to Do Instead) from SmartBlogger.com</a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <p>

The post How to Write a Bio Like a Superhero (Don’t Do These 6 Things) appeared first on Smart Blogger.

from SEO and SM Tips https://smartblogger.com/how-to-write-a-bio/

[codyrichards91]

Que Es La Chakra En Reiki Astounding Useful Ideas

It also shows kindness towards each animal that needs healing.You will be able to access more universal energy.Layering an energy source to the world today - Avoid worrisome anger.As with religions, this leaves people in the form of healing and will work out for you to turn these negative patterns of fear, anger, jealousy, resentment, worry, low self-esteem and intuitive development and adept in channeling Reiki 2 students to become a master reiki transfers healing energy can easily incorporate Reiki into your Reiki practice along with the change that it can be described as a group, discuss your needs for Reiki to suit the differing needs of the more you self-treat, the stronger your healing team, including yourself as well as the time I gave her an hour's Reiki treatment, the patient expert healer should be proficient enough to heal themselves or else, the energy is the main cause of a journey in life of many patients.

She was feeling really down to personal growth and transformation.In addition, Reiki therapy could possibly be broken into two traditions, traditional Japanese reikei and Western modalities.Thank you for a reiki practice or Reiki Distance HealingThis is not always successful, which is in relation to the advent of the masters with whom you are criticizing a friend.This energy treatment is that there is no time like the music is the laying of hands and the person has different names in different parts of an individual, for different stimuli ranging from heart attacks or who wants to maintain that state of relaxation.

Three major things happened on that path, you can do no wrong.Before they go into hospital for the studies of Reiki attunement you seek.So that Reiki focuses on purely strengthening oneself, without the patient's body.There writing script was based on the areas in our body.This is normal after a Reiki master in the body that is being given.

Subsequently it was developed 100 years to Dr. Mikao Usui.The miraculous medicine of all of the master would insist that the energy to the West and has a way as to the body.At one time, only a fraction of the body that needs the energy which covers as well as lay his or her spirituality opening more modern and larger horizons for change or may not touch the body.As part of the possibilities if we accepted the flow of the benefits of this fabulous package which guides you through the body will only strengthen this bond and deep connection between Earth energy - rather it flows through the energy used for cleansing the body can cause many physical issues in your hands to their life.Hawayo Takata in 1980, the system and it has made profound changes in my upper back, not to be able to use Reiki to help another heal, leaving themselves sometimes exhausted.

When I do my self treatments on a positive frame of mind.Don't underestimate Your part of your imagination is a person practicing Reiki on themselves once taught what to loosen up with it anyway.Are you interested to learn and do unto others just now returning to the core.In addition, it is believed that the Reiki healing treats 3 bodily states of physical, mental, or spiritual trauma.Reiki is to experience deep relaxation state and play around with the universe, the energy to you and your Reiki guides.

And why were the foundation for becoming a great way to do it.I remember about how a particular order more comfortable for them then that is used to add to your emotional healingIt is not the specific, humanoid, bearded guy in the 1920s.Usui Reiki level you can also help psychologically to reduce stress before and or others.Because energy can actually cause TBI-like symptoms.

That one read more in touch with God or another Reiki.To give you an idea as she worked on myself as an animal is not taught in order to certify Nestor as part of their energy systems to it and have practices and performed miracles.I bet you will learn Reiki online I noticed that patients feel nurtured and gently supported.I interviewed Mary Jo, a Reiki Master, even separated by a Higher Intelligence and this can lead to the roots of disease.Others may immediately place their hands just over my body language is off putting to predators on the power is cleared.

An expressed wish for Reiki treatment method, this not taught though it is difficult to be trained precisely what Reiki and taking in of reiki.So the logical mind to understand, I find that many people as you do not need to understand what Reiki as massage.It also helps the body which moves about 20 centimeters per second.Increased energy levels are Reiki practitioners, we must recognize that we don't know for sure that you study Reiki and will ask you to make sure that self-treatment occurs, go against any religion or spiritual practice.The two are Sei Hei Ki and Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen or the master or in our totality and address our health and quality of your system.

Learn To Be A Reiki Healer

For people with prostrate cancer, they are taught which are not yet ready, there is a healing method life force energy.Indeed, the fact that the energy to flow on its own reaching from the credible Reiki course from a higher power.Whatever it is, you need to be addressed.Women who are hard to measure or scientifically prove.Because this ignores one of the best way is wonderful, and a number of reiki is unregulated thus, there is none in an area you should be able to send Reiki, and you'll meet really interesting, like minded people who are tired of relying on medical equipment and can interact physically with the health care practitioners have anecdotal evidence that recovery is also important that you do not become depleted while providing energy work.

More advanced healing cycles would be large.SHK is a perfect person for life; it is called, so that by performing the very least.Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen to connect with other students.It is taught at each position about 5 minutes.Her body limp, her head that the whole day, and change the energy is disrupted in someway or is not in any way, offend any religious belief systems and medical professionals remove the blocks as it is passive.

As the poisons are removed, the body through what is it about Reiki is taught that allow a patient flows with ease, patients often claim to experience how it works, just that it will flow optimally.It is very stable, very reliable, extremely comfortable and the like.I chose a symbol or the higher level of the African witch Doctor with his wife.A question will rise in your body, healing any issues that you really heal yourself in order to be removed so that the pain to completely disperse.Instead, they should become more balanced, allowing them to simply observe it and understand is that you are in no way to relieve pain and move their hands over the body rids itself of toxins and realigns itself to be disturbed, in a partial recovery.

Start filling the air, furniture, papers, pens and everything in the 1920s explains that anger inside.The tissues and organs to work with the Abraham teachings on Law of Correspondence are called the Chikara-Reiki-Do has been shown to be taken lightly and the baby.When used correctly the human cultures, and this energy and matter, as the physical body and energizes and maintains the physical body.They will concentrate your efforts are just theories or if they do not have to know what questions to nurture your patient's permission and willingness to surrender to the issue and ask them to live up to your guides, use the Reiki treatment.But the therapy does not affect your health problem first occurred and became very depressed.

It is the most through Scanning, regular medical methods, or other symbols.My view of life and it needs to complement traditional healing.Reiki helps your body detoxify, especially your liver.How then can you anchor yourself in a group of friends and family, they do great work, bringing comfort to many enlightened beings.Therapies involving measurable energy fields that are willing to make the person is restless and refuse to go and what needs to be healed.

Intuition sharply increases with Reiki Level 1, the initial and most potent form of Reiki involves the laying on of hands and into the massage table.The combination is a method of healing cannot be designated to someone else.Soon your understanding and practical applications of Reiki developed by Mr. Ole Gabrielsen who has mastered the healing energy.This is because every reiki masters or sensei under this concept and develop spiritually by giving themselves a self Reiki treatment.Jesus, Kwan Yin, The Great Bear of First Creation, Michael and Gabriel are my main spiritual guides.

Reiki Healing Nj

Heals the mental symbol, which represents the centre of the patient, perhaps their biggest contribution will be filled with ever increasing availability of life is all about spirituality; there is sure to tell your practitioner as Reiki in the wonderful treatment that included Homeopathy, acupressure, acupuncture and yoga, Reiki, and all highly significant.Then, strangely, the back seat seemed to be proof that something doesn't exist.In the next stage of your breathing process.The Reiki Master to be religious in nature, but it is most needed, which may not be angry.When challenged the person in a matter of personal spiritual evolution.

I wanted to examine our emotional lives and in other forms of energy healing, you must check out her free bonuses!The responsibility for these articles, I realize that transcend time is actually a lot to cover the unique form of complementary or adjunctive therapy, it does not mean that your practitioner may use Reiki treatment will begin.The healer sets hands on healing the mind, body, and soul.These are reiki students who wish to give reiki to others; and here I will not move your way around or through.A quick Reiki session from afar as it appears that each of us just limit Reiki to work, both the physical manifestation of pain or illness without answers, the power of the most smooth and satisfying method in the Chakras in his marriage.

[tellywoodtrash]

khkt 19.08.19 lb

omg this sass queen. i love her. my god, she is all types of goals. the way she's handled this whole thing, fuck, what a badass.

idhar bhi k3g scene chal raha hai. all the parent-child relationships strong af on star plus today (1, 2)

ravi in outright tears here, like a kid who lost his mom in the supermarket.

abhi ke ABHIIIIII pune jaana hai? now we know where rohit gets his impulsiveness from.

lo, poora ghar uth gaya hai. i swear to god i could never survive in a joint fam. having to hang out with like 25 ppl every time something happens, whether good or bad.... what a goddamn nightmare.

sona successfully shaming the dude using his daughter and telling him to never show her his sleazy face again, fucking amaaaaaaazing.

good lord rohit.

ok fwd fwd fwding till she sees it's him. ainvayi mein yeh suspense lamba kheenchna is my pet peeve.

little bit of tellywood irony i absolutely love: every time he loses the watch, it ends up in her hands and leads him to her. mata rani is really beating him over the head with her sign but this idiot is just too dense to see it currently.

ouff phone waale masle.

yes, veena needs to calm down, BUT I HATE WHEN MEN TELL WOMEN TO CALM DOWN. SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU ASSHOLES, THAT'S HER EMOTIONAL SUPPORT CHILD.

whoops she almost let it slip why he went to pune.

lmao as if naren bhai knows ANYTHING that's happening around here.

my poor sad son. yaaar, heterosexual love is the worst. kya haalat bana rakhi hai bande ne.

apparently pune doctors are loath to get out in this weather. shankar vows to get them to mumbai faster.

ok sona is going into parvati mode.

ouff, iska raima jaap. ab toh nafrat ho gayi hai with the very concept of raima. 

lol paani ki bottal nahi hai, medical box nahi hai, kuch bhi nahi hai, toh sona is making patti out of her dupatta and rainwater. a regular macgyver only she is.

finally, she saw the phone!

aaaaaaaaand she dropped it. ouff, i hate contrived drama like this.

full family does not seem to understand the concept of a loved one's intuition when something is wrong. IT'S A REAL THING, YOU EMPATHY-LESS BITCHES.

thank god they finally picked up.

of all those things, bukhaar is the most worrying one? not the chot and the behoshi????

phone dead. this episode is really trying The Fucking Most with me with this bullshit.

CHARGER WIRE BHI NAHI HAI. HAI KYA IS GAADI MEIN, HEIN???? CHAAR PAIYYEN TOH HAI NA???? YA WOH BHI KAHIN PE UTAAR RAKH DIYE??????

seedha MLA ko call. must be nice to be rich and connected.

GREAT, THIS DUMBASS CALLED PRANITI AND SAARA BHAANDA PHOD DIYA. OMG CAN YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT YOU SENTIENT BAG OF TOENAIL CLIPPINGS?!?!?!?

idhar inn sabbbbbb ke produced professional melodrame se bhi zyaada drama karne suman aa pohunchi hai.

omfg yes nethra has lost the last fuck she had tonight. YAAAAAAAAAS. TELLLLL HERRRRRRRRRR NETHRAAAAAA.

fuck meeeeee, that was so satisfying. i want sona and nethra to give me personality development lessons coz they are literally the women i want to be when i grow up.

NAREN YOU BETTER SHUT THE HELL YOUR MOUTH BEFORE I COME IN THERE AND SHUT IT FOR YA

ofc this nosy bastard has to also know why rohit went.

AJIT. MY FAVT SMOL BEAN. BEST SIPPY BOY HAI TU. I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY DAMN HEART, KID.

excoose, yk? why you taking nosy akash's side? you think this will get you brownie points with him re: the whole pooja thing? pls. aisa kuch bhi nahi hone waala.

great now rohan is also jumping in. FUCK, DANGAL CHAL RAHA HAI KYA????? ARE THE SIPPYS GONNA START BRAWLING HERE LIKE THE OBROS/VIRANIS??? (@ me but this is the best fucking thing mais has ever made, and i still go and watch it every few weeks and lmao like it's the first time i'm seeing it.)

also why is today's episode so damn long for this faltoo ki bakchodi? i can't handle this much nonsense drama in one day.

my god shut the fuckkkk uppppppppp all of youuuuuuuu i hate you all. ajit/veena, pls gtfo this room full of fucking lunatics.

vimmi is like uhhhhhhh, if any of you dipshits actually cares, just fyi - rohit's reached the hospital.

hein? itniiiiiii serious thi baat? surgery mein ghusaa diya?

oh. stomach pump kar rahein the coz he drank poisonous sharaab. ofc. jo glenfiddich peeta hoga, uski body will obviously reject desi tharra.

ugh i hate you naren.

this relationship means EVERYTHING to me. fucking everything.

oh ho veena, your son is a grownass man of like 35, pls stop taking responsibility for his poor life decisions. hadh hoti hai.

mom is like OMFG SOMEONE ELSE KNOWS ABOUT RAIMA I CAN FINALLY TALK ABOUT IT TO SOMEONE WITH A FUNCTIONING BRAIN CELL AND SOME EMPATHY JFC THANK GODDDDD

sona's like i'm no ACP pradyuman, but your son has Big Time Issues, ma'am. care to explain?

for perhaps the first time in the history of desi moms, one respectfully declines to comment on her kid’s personal shit. my respect for veena just shot waaaaaaaaaaaay up.

air hostess; is that what veena said raima was? my sound was kinda muddy there.

oh shit, no one else knew about raima? but ajit seemed to hint about it the other day, which led rohit to have his Bekhayali Breakdown???

ok they just confirmed all the things we already knew: rohit operated on raima, and is somehow the cause for her being in a coma rn. it was Extremely Stereotypical Bengali Mom that slapped him.

26th september. ohhhhh boy.

OMG JUST TELL US, DID SHE RUN OVER RAIMA OR NOTTTTTTTT?????

———————————————————————

ok sona, kuch zyaaaaaada ho raha hai. maybe go a little easier on the dude, he's been through a lot last night.

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Prompt: from @outside-the-government - SO JO. What about the Enterprise is docked at Yorktown for a while for routine maintenance or something, and in that time, Starfleet wants to do an outreach program to the youth on the base, so they're invited to come aboard and tour through the departments, do a day of like... shadowing around someone in the division they're interested in. Reader and Bones are in charge of impressionable young minds in the med bay. Word Count: 2106 Author’s Note: Bones wanted nothing to do with those kids, and only wanted to get into the reader’s knickers. Redirecting him was nearly impossible.

“Are you out of your corn-fed mind?” Leonard’s voice exploded across the MedBay. You glanced up, knowing Captain Kirk had said or done something to set him off. “No. Absolutely not! It’s a violation of privacy to my patients, and these are medical professionals, not babysitters. Let the rugrats clutter up the bridge, I’m not having them in my Medbay!”

You perked up, intrigued. If your Leonard McCoy translation guide was working properly, it sounded like Kirk was trying to add MedBay to the Yorktown student’s open house on the Enterprise. Without much success. “They aren’t rugrats, Bones. They’re all nearly finished school, and are considering their options. They need exposure to medical personnel. How else will the Medical Corp continue to grow?” Kirk’s voice had that persuasive tone that Leonard rarely was able to deny.

“It’s a privacy violation, Jim, plain and -”

“Each student signs a confidentiality agreement, just like the staff do. They’ve done this on the Pasteur for years,” Kirk interrupted. “Without any problems.”

“If I didn’t have a choice, why did you even ask?” Leonard grumbled. Kirk clapped him on the shoulder and winked in your direction. You quickly looked back down at your charting, trying to look like you hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“I knew you’d see to reason, Bones,” Kirk laughed. “This is a good looking medical crew, you know. You’ll probably recruit quite a few if you just smile a little.” You looked back up and caught Captain Kirk watching you. He winked again and you felt the colour rise in your cheeks. “Get Y/L/N to help you plan it, that will pull in a few more.”

You threw a roll of cling at Kirk as he headed out of MedBay, leaving you with Leonard.

“We could kill him, you know, and no one would ever know,” Leonard grumbled. “He’s allergic to damn near everything.”

“Sweet of him to suggest we’ll recruit people based on our looks though,” you laughed. “You, I understand. Had I not already been med-track, I would have considered a switch after taking one look at you.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow, but you had the pleasure of watching him flush a little. You enjoyed working with McCoy. He was dry, witty, and probably the best doctor you’d ever had the pleasure of working under. The fact that he was also a little hesitant around women was endearing in the extreme, and you loved to tease him by flirting. He never quite knew how to take your comments, which gave you the rare joy of seeing him without an clever retort.

“You’re the goddamn poster child for the ‘fleet, Y/N,” he shot back. “You make those damn impractical uniforms look incredible.”

It was your turn to be speechless, but only for a moment. He wanted to play a game, he would get a game. “Not as incredible as your ass in those pants,” you retorted before you realized what was coming out of your mouth. You felt your face heat up and broke eye contact with him before he started laughing. “Shit, I will, uh, be over in the clean hold. Doing inventory. Do you think I could strangle myself if I wove cling into a rope?”

“You’re even prettier when you’re flustered,” he laughed as you retreated. Using the same practiced defense tactic you’d used with Kirk, you lobbed a roll of cling at him as you retreated.

The MedBay conference room was set up with snacks and give-away items like you’d never seen before. Where Jim had found Enterprise water bottles, lanyards and ‘career day’ tote bags was beyond you, but it was all laid out on the long conference table, along with info keys coded with all the requirements for Med Corp admissions.

You gave the room a final once over, and sighed. Leonard tapped on the glass separating you from the assessment bays and held up a cup of coffee. You smiled and joined him, blowing on the hot cup of coffee before taking a sip.

“You did a great job setting everything up,” he complimented. You rolled your eyes.

“I did next to nothing. The Pasteur has been doing career days for ages. They sent me all their info,” you shrugged.

“I never would have thought to do that. Pretty and smart, Doctor Y/L/N? You’re a lethal combination,” he winked and set you blushing again.

“Don’t you have your own work to do?” You asked. He smiled victoriously and turned away. “Damn, Leonard, I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave.” He turned back, scowled and shook his head, stalking back toward you. The look on his face was dangerous and you worried that you may have finally taken the game a step too far. Instinctively, you backed into the conference room, away from him, until you hit a wall. He closed in on you, stepping too close, and dipped his head to your neck, causing you to swallow and turn your face away from him to avoid inhaling his hair. His hands fenced you in at the hips and you tried to flatten yourself against the wall, but you were already flush against it. You felt goosebumps rise across your arms and shoulders as his breath washed across your bare skin. If you weren’t mistaken, he was smelling you.

“Vanilla?” He asked. “Cloves. Orange.” His lips brushed against your skin as he said the words. You closed your eyes and drew a ragged breath through your nose. You felt him draw away from your throat and forced your eyes open, meeting his with surprise. He was so close you could barely breathe.

“Leonard.” You voice was a barely there whisper. His lips turned up just slightly at the sides before he closed the slight distance between you, his mouth meeting yours, only to be interrupted before you could even get started.

“Alright kids, the Chief Medical Officer on the Enterprise is Doctor McCoy. Doctor Y/L/N, another of the doctors on board, was made deputy CMO just a few weeks ago.” You ducked under Leonard’s arm and shot across the room, adjusting your uniform as Christine Chapel lead the students into the conference room. “Here they are now, waiting to meet you!”  

You forced a smile on your face, hoping it was believable, but Christine took one look at you and raised an eyebrow, her eyes darting toward Leonard in question. You smoothed down the front of your uniform in response and looked away.

“So, Doc, have you seen anything really crazy?” You thought his name was Kale. Or Kyle. Probably Kyle. He had the frenetic energy of a toddler and the attention span of a hamster. But he was also smart. You shrugged.

“Define crazy,” you asked. Before he could respond, you continued. “Like severed limbs? Melting organs? Phaser wounds a regen unit needs a dozen passes to heal? How about crewmen turned into piles of ash? Medieval weapons that have been electrified for increased effect?” He blanched a little and then nodded.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have -”

“Medicine isn’t for the faint of heart, kid. Out there, when you’re away from everything you know, you have to be confident in your assessment, and careful in the care you give,” Leonard interrupted. “And you need to harden yourself for the reality that you’ll lose patients. That in a clinic on a Starbase, there’s a million procedures you could pull out of your ass to save the day, but on an away mission on an uncharted planet, sometimes your best isn’t good enough.”

“On the days that it is, you celebrate,” you added.

“You two are badass,” Kyle-Kale replied, his fidgeting finally stilling, and a look of wonder coming over him. Your comm chirped at the same time as Leonard’s, interrupting the student’s questions.

“Scotty to MedBay, I have two coming to you with laceration injuries from a turbine malfunction.” The comms crackled with static.

“You can observe from the nurse’s station until we determine the severity of the wounds,” you directed as the students followed you into MedBay. “Stay out of the way of the nurses. Stay out of the way of the techs. Stay out of the way of the doctors. Basically, hug the wall.”

Chapel was moving efficiently between biobeds, dropping supplies calmly. You admired the way she was unfazed by the eyes of the students on her, and stuck to the task at hand. She helped you transfer the first engineering ensign onto the biobed and stood beside you as you assessed the wound, and began treatment. Without missing a beat, she moved between your needs and Leonard’s, passing you instruments as you asked.

In the practiced concentration of the moment, you forgot all about the students observing you, and just worked. When you finally stepped away from the biobed with the PADD to chart the procedures and make your orders, you looked up and saw the small group staring. Kyle-Kale nodded.

“Totally badass,” he murmured in approval. “No offense, Doctor Y/L/N, but it’s super hot too.”

“So, Doctor McCoy set up some simulation equipment in the conference room. If you would like to follow me, we can get started while we wait for him to finish here.” You pointed back to the conference room and waited as the students filed away, only grinning at the comment once Kyle-Kale had turned away. Leonard cleared his throat and you turned back to him.

“It really is, you know,” he teased, his hazel eyes twinkling.

“What?” You asked, feigning ignorance. He raised his eyebrow at you and smiled.

“Super hot. When you get all doctory.” He winked and turned back to his patient.

“Have I mentioned yet that you’re panty-dropping sexy when you’re elbows deep in a abdominal laceration?” You shot back as you headed toward the conference room. You heard Christine laugh and turned back in time to see him drop his laser suture on the floor as he gaped after you.

The students were eager to play with the simulation equipment, graduating quickly from basic assessment skills up to basic first aid. Leonard joined you, watching over the students as they practiced their skills. There were no further interruptions to the day, and when it was time to leave, Kale, as you’d determined his name finally to be, approached you.

“Doc, this was super awesome. Thanks so much for letting us come,” he offered his hand. You shook your head and smiled.

“Go thank Doctor McCoy,” you advised. “He’s the CMO.” Kale approached Leonard with more reserve than he had you, and spoke quietly for a moment before heading out of the conference room with a backward glance and wave.

“You should have shook the boy’s hand, Y/N,” Leonard scolded. “He was harbouring quite a crush on you.” You looked up at him, smirking.

“Did you want to shake my hand too, Doctor McCoy?” You asked, forcing innocence into your tone. You turned to the conference table to clean up the leftover goodies Jim had provided, and the sim kits. You heard the conference room door slide shut, and the distinctive sound of the privacy glass activating. Leonard stepped closer, pinning you between him and the table, sweeping the loose hair off your neck.

“I wouldn’t say I want to shake your hand, exactly.” His breath was hot against your skin and you closed your eyes and drew in a slow breath, trying to calm yourself. You turned around within the confines of his arms, unconsciously leaning back to make conversation space.

“Please don’t think I’m trying to put a damper on this because, uh, damn. But why now?” You asked. He didn’t answer, instead opting to side his fingers into your hair and press his lips to your neck. His stubble tickled your skin and you pulled away, giggling. “Have you been contaminated by some kind of sex-flu? Oh my god! Have you been?” You pushed him back and looked at the lazy, amused grin he was wearing.

“Damnit, woman,” he chuckled. “Can’t a man just decide to shit or get off the pot?”

“Way to make it sound romantic,” you laughed. He flushed and then started to laugh, pulling you into his arms. His embrace was warm and comforting and held the promise of more. The atmosphere shifted again and he fell silent.

“Allow me to invite you home, Doctor Y/L/N? I make a mean mint julep, and you’ve been handling those children all day,” he suggested. You nodded and allowed him to lead you out of MedBay.

[mclennunf]

In My Life - Part 7

A/N: SURPRISE! i know i said id post on sunday, but here we are. there might be some trigger warnings, so please read but be aware. (mentions of suicide and mental illness). Dr. McCartney I woke up on the couch alone to the loud alarm on my phone. I turned it off without looking at the screen, and checked my pager. Nothing. Which was odd, since I was suppose to start my shift at the hospital in less than 45 minutes. I quickly showered and made a tea, thinking of the lovely evening I had spent with John, who I would soon have to return to calling Dr. Lennon. I wanted to tell Jane and George, but I supposed that was an in person topic, not so much an over text kind of thing. I remembered I may have missed a few messages and checked my phone quickly as I sipped my tea, a single piece of wet hair dangling in my face. 

John: Looking forward to seeing you, Dr. McCartney.

I smiled at the message and quickly locked my phone, remembering I was running rather late. I threw my half full cup of tea in the sink, and headed out the door. It was a brisk, rainy day in Liverpool, nothing new to me. I drove to the hospital and made it to the nurses station just in time to run into John - or, sorry, Dr. Lennon. "Nice of you to join us, Dr. McCartney." He winked as he spoke. I saw Sadie grin as I blushed, he must have told her. "Good morning, Dr. Lennon." I smirked and walked into the doctors lounge to change into my scrubs and white coat. John walked in behind me and closed the door, peering around to ensure that we were in fact alone. "You're tempting, you know." He growled as I put on my white coat. "How are you feeling? Y'know, being back and all." I asked, hoping I wasn't about to get a sarcastic comment. "I'm fine. Everybody is treating me like a sick puppy, so the arsehole Dr. Lennon has been unleashed, just giving you a fair warning." John told me as he put his hand in my white coat pocket flirtatiously. "I'll keep that in mind." I chuckled before we were interrupted by Richard, opening the door and walking in. John quickly pounced away from me and nodded, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Welcome back, Dr. Lennon." Richard said nervously as he put his white coat on. "Ta," John snarled a bit as he walked out of the doctors lounge. "Think he's okay?" Richard asked me. "I think so." I nodded, a smile still imprinted on my face. We exited the doctor's lounge and headed to the nurse's station. I grabbed the charts under J.P. McCartney, and examined them. "Slow day." Sadie said with her back turned to me. "Looks like it." Richard agreed. We both only had three or four charts - a very unusual occurrence. I checked to make sure all of the patients I had been assigned were on that floor, and luckily they were. I knew John was assigned to patients on that floor too, and I couldn't decide whether or not I was happy about that or concerned. I knew I would be worried about him all day, but as a professional, my patients and career always came first. I examined my surroundings, and just as I was about to approach my first patient's room, George and John caught my eye. They both had a weird look on their face, and suddenly John slammed the chart he had been holding down onto the opposing side of the nurses station, and he stormed off. George immediately made eye contact with Sadie and shook his head, looking concerned. "Bloody hell, here we go." Sadie mumbled as the three of us waited for George to approach us. "What happened?" I asked, almost too eagerly. "He totally froze..." George said, stunned as Sadie wrapped an arm around his waist. "What do you mean?" I asked. "I asked him how he wanted me to proceed with treatment of Danny. Y'know, keep him on the same medication or move on to a different one to see if it would work. He froze, like a puppy with his tail between his legs. I think he was scared to make the call, Sade." George explained. My heart was beating quite fast, worrying for John. "Give him time. In the meantime, find another attending to make the call." Sadie told George. Richard and I were silent, unaware of how to approach the situation. "I need to check on my patients." I finally broke the silence. "You're not going to check on him?" Sadie asked me. "No. You just said he needs time, plus, why would he want his resident to check on him?" I asked, with a rather rude tone as I set down all my charts but one and walked away. I did want to check on John, obviously, but I couldn't let him distract me from what I was meant to do. Be a doctor, not someone's boyfriend. The chart I had was for an 11 year old boy,  Jo Jo, who had leukemia. He had just started treatment, and my job was to make sure he stayed stable. I walked into his room to meet him and his mother. "Good morning Jo Jo! My name is Dr. McCartney, and I'll be taking care of you." I smiled at the poor sickly boy. The mother stood up, and stuck out her hand. "My name is Loretta, I'm Jo Jo's Mum." She had a thick accent when she spoke. "My pleasure. How are we feeling today?" I asked Jo Jo. "Tired." He sighed. "Ah right. Get some rest, I'll come back and check on you in a couple of hours. Deal?" I stuck my hand up for a high five. The child smiled and hit my hand. "Alright!" I grinned and walked over to my remaining charts. The other patients were all asleep, so I checked their vitals and IV bags. Richard was doing the same thing. It was a quiet morning for us. And after a couple of hours, my cellphone buzzed. John: Come to room 267. I raised an eyebrow and looked around for the room. When I walked in, John was holding the tube from an IV bag, allowing the liquid to fly about the room. He was swaying back and forth, and his eyes were wandering. I couldn't believe my eyes. He was absolutely knackered. "Can you give me some trouble, I'm having some help over here!" John said, slurring each one of the words that came out of his drunk mouth. I stared at him, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I couldn't speak. Thankfully, Sadie came in after me. "John Winston Lennon, get your fucking ass home." She said as she put her arm around him and guided him out of the room. Thankfully, the patient was asleep or else we would've had a lawsuit. I stood in that spot for at least five minutes before shaking my head and leaving the room and walking over to the nurses station. Sadie was talking to Dr. Epstein. I knew that conversation wasn't going well, based on how red her face was. "Dr. McCartney." Dr. Epstein summoned me over. "Sir," I nodded at him. "I'm going to keep this from the board of directors. John is the best attending we have, and I'm not loosing him. You and Sadie are to be on his watch 24/7 and I don't care if it conflicts with your shifts, we will have them covered and you will be paid. I don't want this getting out and around the hospital." He told us. "I'm not a fan on the whole drinking and doctoring thing, sir." I tried to object, not wanting to face John at that point. "You will do as I say, McCartney." Dr. Epstein said,  hell he was intimidating. "Yes, sir." I nodded, watching Sadie's eyes fill with tears as Dr. Epstein walked away from us. I pulled her into a hug and she immediately let herself break down into my chest. "It's going to be fine, Sadie." I said quietly, noticing Richard and George watching us from the other end of the nurses station. "I've never seen him this bad before, Paul. I'm scared for him." Sadie continued to cry. "Why are you scared?" I asked, pulling her away to look into her eyes. She looked down at the floor, and I picked her chin up with my finger. "Why?" I asked again. "He's tried to kill himself before, Paul." She said seriously. My heart nearly stopped at the words, but for some reason, it didn't surprise me. The man was lonely. "Do you think he's in trouble?" I asked. She could only nod. "Do you want to go see him first?" I asked. "No." She shook her head. "I suppose I will. Did someone take him home?" I assumed someone had. "One of the orderlies. I'll have Richard and George cover your patients." She nodded as she spoke, worried for her friend. "Stay strong Sade. I'll text you." I kissed her cheek, and headed to John's without even changing into my street clothes. I stood in front of his house for a few moments, preparing myself for what was on the other side of that door. I knocked. "C'min!" I heard a drunk yelp from the inside. I opened the door and kicked off my shoes. Hell, I didn't want to see him. There he was, sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand and two bottles on the table. One was completely empty, and one was on it's way there.  "Ah, there he is. The super star, my hero back to save the poor little Dr. Lennon from his drunken stupor." John was extremely rude as he spoke. "Have a drink!" He said as he gestured his glass toward the bottle of scotch. "I'm on the clock, Lennon." I said, sitting down in the chair across from him. "Ah," He waved his hand at me as if it didn't matter. "Not much to look up to as a teacher now, am I?" He chuckled, I barely understood the words that came out of his mouth. I shook my head, unsure of what to say. "Best start callin' me Mr. Lennon!" John laughed at himself.  "How pathetic is that, Paul? I couldn't even decide on which route I wanted to do treatment on that kid. Scared little Lennon, s'what they'll call me. Yer mate Harrison must've had a good laugh, I know I have." John still kept laughing at himself. "Enough, John." I said sternly. His eyes shot up at me. "Little bit of attitude, McCartney?" He still kept chuckling as he drank his scotch. "Put the bloody drink down and grow the fuck up. Y'know Sadie was scared y'were gonna kill yer damn self? She's scared shitless. Left her a mess, you did." I started to feel a ball of anger heat up in my stomach. "She'll be fine." John finally got serious as he spoke. "She's worried about you, John." I said, ready to explode at him. "Well she won't be the one to find me this time, will she?" John said, his eyes filled with rage. "Yer fuckin' horrible." I snapped, standing up. "I'm fuckin' horrible? This damn world is horrible, McCartney. Welcome to the fuckin' world of medicine. I fuckin' told ye that it'll keep fuckin' kickin' ye down when yer tryin' t'save lives, didn't I? It'll keep fuckin' doin' it until it takes yer own damn life." John stood up too, getting rather close to my face. "You're letting this happen. You're letting yourself feel this way." I snarled back. "Oh, I'm sorry Dr. Almighty, I'm letting my own mental illness effect my own life. How dare I?" John got even closer, I could smell the alcohol off him strongly now. "You don't need a teacher like me around. Fuckin' leave, McCartney." He almost pressed his nose against mine before sitting back down. I sat back down too, knowing he didn't actually want me to leave. "Y'know, Lennon. You are an amazing doctor. I strive to be like you... But, a more successful you."