#night and weekend nursing programs

[dolivia]

Here are 4 Phases (Stages) of Nurse-Patient Relationship

Discover the 4 phases of the nurse-patient relationship on our website. Gain insights into the stages that shape this crucial bond. Explore now

[elixirfromthestars]

angst ☽ | fluff ☼ | 18+ ♡ | 500+ notes ✧ | 1k+ notes ୨୧ | 3k+ notes ✩ | 5k+ notes ❀

─ ⊹ ⊱ Series ⊰ ⊹ ─

The Biker's Tulip ☼ ୨୧

biker!bucky x florist!reader

A small town. A biker and a florist, each one carrying the burdens of their past, and yet despite that, finding solace in one another along the way...

─ ⊹ ⊱ Collections ⊰ ⊹ ─

In the Name of Love & Law ☼ ☽ ✧

detective!bucky x lawyer!reader

This collection follows the love story between Detective Bucky Barnes and you, one of the most notorious prosecutors in New York, working alongside the detectives of the Brooklyn homicide precinct. In the midst of navigating the chaos of your jobs, you also have to navigate the growing feelings between you and Bucky that seem to be going nowhere no matter how hard you try to ignore them...

─ ⊹ ⊱ Two Parts ⊰ ⊹ ─

A Night Of Frights and Delights ☼ ୨୧

athlete!bucky x artist!reader - college au

It's Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can't stand is also there?

Part II ♡ ☼ ✧

You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.

─ ⊹ ⊱ Oneshots ⊰ ⊹ ─

One Call Away ☼

agent!bucky x journalist!reader

You’re a journalist in the late 1950s working for a gossip magazine. You write an article about the actor Steve Rogers, and his agent Bucky Barnes is not happy about it. He confronts you and offers you a deal.

In Five Years ☽

bucky x enhanced!reader

Bucky was having a hard time expressing his feelings about finally being free from the Winter Soldier program. To help him out, you suggested writing a letter to his future self and burying it in a time capsule to visit this moment again in the future. The plan was to open the time capsule five years from now. That was until Thanos showed up.

My Dearest ☼ ✧ ☽

duke!bucky x lady!reader

On the night of Lady Maximoff’s ball you find yourself in the gardens, troubled by your emotions. As if by fate, the rain pours down reuniting you with the one who is the very object of your troubles.

Written in the Stars ☼

bucky x avenger!reader - established relationship

Your boyfriend, Bucky, takes you on a date full of surprises under the stars.

Boulevard Confessions ☼ ୨୧

40s!bucky x nurse!reader

Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.

Sink Your Teeth In Me ♡ ☼ ୨୧

bucky x neighbor!reader

You and Bucky are supposed to attend Sam's party on Halloween. However, when you show up to his place looking like temptation itself—he gets other ideas on how to spend the night with you.

Crossroads ☽ ✧

bucky x neurosurgeon!reader

On a rainy night on your way home, fate decides to cross your path with someone who used to hold the dearest place in your heart.

Dancing Embers ☼

40s!bucky x nurse!reader

A cozy cabin, the love of your life, and the warmth of a fire. What more could you ask for on a cold winter night?

By The Warmth Of The Oven ☼ ❀

bucky x avenger!reader

You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...

In His Embrace ☼

agent!bucky x journalist!reader

As a new day begins and the snow cascades beyond your windows, you know there's no place you'd rather be than in his arms.

A Snow Day With You ☼

athlete!bucky x artist!reader - college au

The end of the semester has you stressing beyond belief, so Bucky decides to cheer you up by spending a snowy afternoon sledding.

─ ⊹ ⊱ Drabbles ⊰ ⊹ ─

Together ☼ ✧

bucky x wife!reader

It’s been a month since you had a baby with your husband, Bucky. On the first day he went back to work, however, you can’t get her to stop crying—that is until Bucky comes home.

Lucky Day ☼ ✧

bucky x reader - college au

Bucky, your childhood best friend, takes you to a baseball game to thank you for helping him with his chemistry class. However, between bets and kiss cams, luck seems to be the real game being played.

Tranquility ☼

bucky x avenger!reader - established relationship

On your day off from saving the world, you decide to have a date in the park with your boyfriend Bucky.

─ ⊹ ⊱ Blurbs/Moodboards ⊰ ⊹ ─

No matter when or where, Bucky will always be there at your call. ☼ ✧

Escape Room Date Moodboard ☼

Fancy Dinner Date Moodboard ☼

Planetarium Date Moodboard ☼

Aquarium Date Moodboard ☼

⌞‼⌝ I do not give consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. 

⌞‼⌝ All images/gifs used are not mine, and come from google unless specifically stated otherwise.​

⌞‼⌝ Heart divider by @/enchanthings

[keyaho]

summary: kyra returns to her hometown after ten years away. she ends up braiding the hair of the one man that had and still has her heart.

authors note: he was supposed to be breaking her in half like a glow stick. idk what happened. he's all soft and shit. sometimes I write and the characters will lead the way. terry was not with me bending kyra over so he could fuck......

wordcount: 2600

warnings: none

Kyra was home this time for good. Fontaine Street was lit up as her father hosted a block party in her honor. She had just finished her nursing program and was currently a registered nurse at the main hospital. It gave her a forty-five minute commute twice a day, but the pay was worth it. Plus, her father had given her his house as a gift, having moved to another closer to his ailing mother three months ago. Markus Fields was known around the block back in the day, having run the entire Fontaine block with his crew. Remnants of that still lingered with up and coming young men wanting to emulate him. 

She slipped in and out of the crowd, hugging older men and women who had watched her grow up over the years. Some neighborhood friends commended her on making it out the hood. She brushed them off, telling them she just wanted to be a nurse. Boasting around here led to rumors and the last thing she wanted was her hometown to think she had outgrown them in a way she thought she was better than them. 

Kyra moved towards her front porch, a few people lingered there, but she slipped into the house unnoticed just to get a break from socializing. The party was going to drag on for a few more house and if it wasn’t the weekend, she’d be sneaking to a hotel to get sleep. 

“Are you running from him,’ Markus sat at the kitchen table, eating a plate of ribs and baked beans. 

“Dad,’ Kyra sighed. “I haven’t even seen him. I just came in to get a break.” 

“Well, he’s been asking about you. He came in a few months ago. Retired from the Marines, some shit went down in some place called Rebel Ridge with his cousin,’ he rambled an Kyra grew concerned. “He passed. Terry showed up here a mess.” Markus sighs. 

“Oh,’ she replies, unsure of what to say.

“He asked if you still braid hair.” 

Kyra looked to her father and slowly folded her arms over her chest. “Dad…’ 

“He’ll be by here tomorrow morning.” 

“I don’t have anything to do his hair with,’ she admitted, slapping her thighs after throwing her hands up. 

“You hair box is still in the bathroom. Combs and shit still down there.” 

“Dad,’

“Braid his hair and talk to him. He needs it.” Markus watched his daughter grab a drink from the fridge. As she left he thought, he needs you. A man in love was easy to spot and Terry long had been in love with his daughter. 

Back outside, she popped the tab on her Coke and walked towards the end of the street where the ice cream truck had parked. She needed something cold to ice out her nerves. Terry had been her first. Everything. They had fumbled one night in bed and though the sex was awkward and rushed, neither knew what they were doing, the intimacy with him could never be matched. Leaving for school had been the hardest decision of her life. She’s glad he found himself a way out too. 

Kyra saw him before he saw her. Standing next to the spades table, red solo cup held between his full lips as he pulled up his slightly large black sweats. MARINE was embellished on his shirt, the material old and faded. His hair had grown out and it framed his face in a way that Narcissus himself would fall in love. The afro was very different than the low cut cesar he had when they were kids. When she last saw him it was fresh and he came right to her house to show off. She remembered her father swatting him off the porch because she couldn’t come out once the street lights were on. From the porch she had waved, laughed and secretly pointed to her bedroom window. 

Now he was a grown man. She was a grown woman and the butterflies were still there. 

Stepping up to the truck she eyed the vintage flavors not found in commercial stores anymore. The buttercup shaped popsicle called her name and she reached into her back pocket when a hand reached over her shoulder, two ones and the two quarters held against his palm by his ring and pinky finger. 

“Aye Terry!” The seller greeted. “What you doing back here bruh? Heard you was out with them Marines and shit.” 

Maybe it was another Terry. She didn’t turn around and when the popsicle was passed to her. She ripped off the paper. 

“I got out,’ his rich baritone filled her ears. “Did my ten years.” 

That’s how long it had been since they last seen each other? 

“It’s good seein’ yall two.” He said, eyeing the way Terry stood behind Kyra. 

The whole block knew how they felt about each other. 

“Are you going to turn around?” He asked, still standing close to her. 

He moved them from the line and towards the sidewalk, people giving them way with knowing looks on their faces. She ignored them. They stood on the side of someone’s house, her back to the old wood. The ice cream tucked between her lips as she sucked on the smooth creamy treat. 

“Hey,’ she replied, unsure of what to say to him. 

“How you been, Ky?” 

“Good, um,’ 

He placed his hands beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him. There was no hesitation in his next move. His hands slid up her cheeks to the curls at the nape of her neck. His lips were soft and he kissed her slow, tasting the ice cream, her strawberry lip gloss, and her. She dropped the ice cream and grabbed his waist. He took the initiate and stepped forward and pushed her up against the house. 

“Two deployments and I would do another one if it mean coming back home to kiss you.” 

He held her face in his hands, thumbs brushing her warm cheeks. He always said the most loving and romantic shit. Her knees weakened just a little and he smiled as she looked away from him. 

“Are you still shy?” He asked. “Can’t be if you’re coming out the house in those shorts.” 

The denim shorts were high waisted with ripped holes along the thighs and one in a particular place on her ass, showing just a sliver of cheek. 

“You put them on for me,’ he says, his lips dangerously close to hers. This was not the Terry she had grown up with. This was grown Terry.

“Fuck,’ she says, pushing him back to get some space to breath. 

He caught her hands and brought them to his lips. He wore a big smile, all 32 teeth exposed as his green eyes looked her over. He stepped back up to her and hooked his finger into the belt hook of her shorts. 

“I’ll be over in the morning to see you.” 

“Your hair.” She says, remembering what her Dad had told her. “I’m braiding your hair. $250.” 

Terry laughed, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Nah, how about head for head?” 

“Terry!” Kyra hissed. That was the Terry she remembered, shit talking. Only this time, she knew he could back it up.

He placed his hand on her stomach and pushed her back against the house. 

“You’ve been the source of all my dreams, my nightmares, Kyra.” He sighed. “All I’ve thought about was you for ten years. Hoping that when I saw you again there wasn’t a ring on your finger.” 

It was getting too heavy. His confession of his feelings were too much. She might have shared them, wondered where had been and doing, but hearing them aloud sent her mind into a free fall. 

“Tell me I’m not too late, Ky Ky.” 

Before she could respond he kissed her forehead. The sky had darkened and the music was louder, people yelling and enjoying themselves in the background. 

“You’re never too late,’ she admitted. 

Terry’s shoulders slumped and the tension between them snapped. 

“Kyra?” 

The pair looked up and Terry took a step away from Kyra.

“Yeah,’ she says, addressing one of her friends from college that had stopped by. 

“Your dad is looking for you.” Her eyes drifted to Terry and she made the connection. Kyra had talked about Terry plenty of times over bottles of wine and ice cream while they were in college. “I’ll tell him your busy,’ 

Kyra shook her head. “No no, I’m coming.” 

Her friend nodded, a knowing smile on her face. “Okay.” 

When they were alone again, Terry pulled her in for another kiss. He held her head back and she rose on her toes to meet his retreating lips. 

“We can finish this tomorrow.”

Up at seven thirty, Kyra grabbed her hair supplies from the bathroom. She sifted through the box for her rattail comb and rubber bands. True to form, she had some blue magic grease and pink lotion. She kept up with braiding and didn’t need all that edge control and gel. Just the basics. Her side hustle on campus kept her afloat. She walked into the kitchen where a pot of coffee was brewing. She had ingredients for breakfast, but knew she didn’t have time to cook and eat before he came over. Terry was punctual and she had a hunch he was going to be early. 

She wore a pink robe over her pajama bottoms and shirt. The old sleepwear was loose and worn in from constant wear. She had bought it on a trip to Italy a few years ago and the soft material still held up. Her slippers were somewhere under her bed and her long polka dot socks came up to her thighs. If Terry wasn’t coming over to get his hair braided one would think she was about to go back to bed, which she probably would once he left. 

As Kyra set up the area she was going to use in her kitchen, facing the tv, she heard the doorbell ring and three hard knocks followed. Of course he was early. Taking her time, she flipped on the foyer light and unlatched the two locks. The deadbolt clicked back and she opened the door to see Terry in a black hoodie and another pair of sweat pants. His hair was picked out and she noticed his beard for the first time. He looked rough. 

“Goodmorning,’ she said through the screen door while reaching to unlock the tiny lock inside the handle. 

“Morning,’ he hummed, stepping inside as soon as he could. He brought her lips to his while dipping his tongue into her mouth. “Where you want me,’ he asked. 

“The be-uh, table, shit, there’s a chair at the table.” Kyra stepped around him so flustered she almost stubbed her toe on the table as she walked past. 

She could feel him behind her. The last time they were in this house they were saying goodbye to each other. Horizontality. Their fingers fumbled over each other as they clung to one another. 

Terry smiled and pulled off his hoodie, a fitted black tank top clung to his muscular frame. He plopped down in the chair, legs spread as if he was waiting for her to sit in his lap. She moved behind him after checking on her coffee.

“How many braids?” She asked, her fingers reaching into his hair. She was surprised his hair was freshly washed. 

Reaching behind her, she pour pink lotion into her hair and rubbed them together before sinking them into his head. She pulled the lotion through his hair, grabbing oil to apply to his ends. 

“Do what you want, baby,’ he replied. 

She hadn’t braided men’s hair in a long time so she decided to have a bit of fun. Making the first zig-zag part, she used the comb to hold his hair to the side. She applied a little ore oil to her fingers and placed her hands at the top of his hair line, gripping the hair firmly as she started to braid. 

“Is that too tight,’ she asked. 

“No, feels good.” 

Thirty minutes passed when her stomach started growling. Terry tiled his head back. 

“I can order something,’ he says. 

“You heard that?” 

“It’s been grumbling for the past ten minutes. I just didn’t want to say nothing.” 

She smacked a hand over his chest as he stands up, half his head braided. He reaches into his hoodie for his phone, pulling up a menu from a diner a few blocks over. 

“Why didn’t you say anything,’ she folds her arms over her chest at his smile. 

“You already popped me with the comb!” He laughs. “I wasn’t trying to get beat up.” 

When he sat back down, he let her work for a few more minutes as he worked up the courage to start the conversation they needed to have. 

“I was serious last night,’ he began. “There’s never been anyone else….long term for me.” Terry sighed, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “No one was you.” 

On braid six, with two to go, Kyra listened to him. He poured his heart out to her, telling her about Rebel Ridge, losing his cousin, the hate in that town and how it almost killed him. She noticed a scar on his back and when he mentioned getting shot she glanced down at it. Her fingers touched over the raised scar. Kyra smoothed her hands up his arms and rested them on his shoulders. 

“There’s a lot I want to tell you,’ she admitted. 

He was numerous entries in her journal. Her thoughts and feelings were all on paper and it was much easier to have him read it than say it aloud, but she’d get to that later. She could at least admit to one thing. 

“Terry,’ she says, wanting him to look at her. 

He tilted his head back and his hazel eyes stared into her brown ones. His full lips were slightly parted and she leaned down, kissing him upside down while she whispered her deepest feelings against his mouth. 

I love you. 

Terry jerked up, almost flying out of the seat. Kyra jumped back as he turned around and pushed her into the fridge. Hand on her belly, he propped the other on top of the fridge. 

“Say it again,’ he begged, lips wet after licking them twice. “Say that shit again.” 

“I love me some you.” She looks down for a moment. “When I went off to school I had hoped you would stop me and beg me to stay.” 

“I wouldn’t keep you from your dreams Kyra. I knew how much you wanted to be a nurse. I would have hated myself if I kept you here.” 

“I know. I would walk around campus hoping you were there, but we both needed to find out way out of Fontaine before we could find each other again, I guess.” 

“You don’t have to wonder where I am anymore.” 

Kyra glanced up at him. His eyes were hooded and low. The emotions swirling between them was overwhelming. He bent his knees so they were eye level. 

“As long as you’re at 345 E Fontaine Street I’m here with you. And if you leave, baby, I’m right behind you.”

Taglist: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings

@mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites

@browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem

@captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr

@beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina

@randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated @thatone-girly

[enflixx]

halfway there - jake sim

summary: After 4 semesters of immersing yourself into Stanford, you start dating Ni-Ki, to briefly distract you from the ache of losing Jake. But as your relationship with Ni-Ki fades and you transfer to CSU Long Beach for nursing, Jake quietly watches your life from afar while chasing his basketball dreams in Melbourne. When he’s drafted as the number one NBA pick and you reconnect on social media, you realize that some dreams were never meant to be pursued alone.

note: this is a part 3 to letters from stanford, but could be read alone!

genre: angst

warning(s): none!

word count: 4547

You were lonelier than you expected. Even surrounded by the hum of Stanford life, the laughter at the dining hall, the countless weekend beach trips, and the late-night study sessions in the library, you still felt it. That emptiness in your chest that used to be filled by Jake’s quiet gestures: the way he’d wait to FaceTime you during your walks across campus, how he’d always remember to keep up with your favorite shows without asking, the way he listened. Really listened.

You already knew Ni-Ki. He was someone who floated easily through campus social circles, bright, spontaneous, magnetic. And funny. Always joking, always turning everything into a laugh. He made you forget the ache for a moment.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but you started dating. Maybe it was the way he texted you silly memes at 2 a.m., or how he just tied himself into your daily life so seamlessly. He’d wait outside your lecture hall, not because he had class nearby, but just because. He brought you matcha during midterms, let you wear his oversized denim jacket, called you “my nurse-in-training.” It was sweet, for a while.

One night, you sat in his dorm room, your head on his shoulder as he scrolled endlessly through TikTok. You were exhausted, emotionally and physically, and you whispered, “I really miss home today.”

He laughed, nudging you. “You’re just being dramatic, babe. We’ve got matcha, memes, and me. What else do you need?”

You smiled, because you didn’t know what else to do.

There were good moments. Like the time he dragged you out of bed for an impromptu midnight picnic by the lake, complete with leftover dining hall cookies and his portable speaker. Or the way he made everyone at the table laugh during brunch, always the center of attention, always full of energy. It felt easy. Effortless.

But something was missing.

He didn’t ask about your day with the same care Jake did. He didn’t notice when you were quiet. He brushed off your anxieties with a joke, deflecting emotion like it was too heavy to carry. When you mentioned feeling behind in your classes, he chuckled, “That’s just your nursing brain stressing again. Just skip a lecture or two, it’s not that deep.”

You tried to explain the pressure, the clinical hours, exams, and the looming transfer, but he would roll his eyes and say, “You always stress about the future. Live in the now, babe.”

Once, during a particularly bad week, you texted him that you felt overwhelmed and could really use someone to talk to. His reply was, “Damn, same. I got a D on my fashion theory quiz. Want to come over and just vibe?”

You went. But you left feeling lonelier than before.

One night, you curled up next to him, scrolling through Pinterest boards for future apartments.

"I want to study abroad in Tokyo," he said, grinning. "Work with a fashion label or launch my own fashion brand. Something sick."

You smiled, trying to match his energy. "That sounds amazing. I think I’ll be transferring to CSU Long Beach. Their nursing program is really solid. I want to work in pediatrics eventually."

He blinked. "Damn. That’s... pretty intense. Don’t you get, like, no sleep doing that?"

You laughed quietly, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You started noticing more. The way he was only present when it was convenient. How he could spend hours planning his brand’s future aesthetic but never ask about your upcoming pathophysiology quiz. How he’d tell his friends about your nursing plans like it was a quirky trait, not a dream you were working tirelessly to build.

By spring, the relationship lost its shine. Ni-Ki still made you laugh, but the connection felt shallow, like a song stuck on replay. You missed feeling understood. You missed Jake.

The end came on a quiet evening, when you both sat on the floor of his dorm room, the flickering light from the TV casting shadows on the walls. It was one of those nights where nothing felt right, and everything seemed too loud, too empty.

"I’ve been thinking," you said, breaking the silence. "About us."

He looked up from his phone, his usual smirk gone. "What about us?"

"I don’t think we’re a good fit anymore," you said, the words tasting strange on your tongue. "You’re always joking around, and I just… I need more than that. I need someone who understands me, who’s there when I’m stressed or overwhelmed, not just someone who makes everything a joke."

He scoffed, sitting up straight. "What? So, I’m not enough now?"

"It’s not that," you tried to explain, your voice softening. "I just feel like we’re not on the same page anymore. We want different things."

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. "So, that’s it? You’re just gonna walk away from us because of a few differences?"

You felt the sting of regret, but you knew it was the right decision. "I think we’ve been growing apart for a while now. You’re looking at the future like it’s all one big joke, but I’m working hard for something serious. I’m transferring to CSU Long Beach for nursing school, Ni-Ki. That’s not a small thing for me."

He stood up abruptly, pacing across the room. "Yeah, well, I’m trying to build something too. But you just can’t see it, can you? You can’t see past your damn textbooks and clinical hours."

You stood up, too, trying to hold your ground. "I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is going to work. I need someone who gets me. Who sees me for more than just someone who’s always working toward the next thing."

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally, he sighed, muttering under his breath, "Fine. Whatever. If that’s how you feel, then I guess we’re done."

You didn’t look back as you left his room that night, a hollow feeling in your chest, but a quiet relief, too. You didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but you knew you couldn’t keep pretending.

Jake never stopped checking your stories. Each post of you with Ni-Ki made his chest tighten. He would scroll through your pictures and videos, his finger hovering over the screen as a dull ache gnawed at him. He didn’t want to feel this way, but he couldn’t stop. He knew he should be happy for you, but seeing you with someone else, especially someone like Ni-Ki, stung more than he expected.

He mentally noted how he would’ve seen it coming. Ni-Ki was always there laughing with you, always easy to be around, always offering something light when things got heavy. The kind of guy who could distract, make you forget the weight of the world, just like he had done to him before. But now, looking at you with him, he realized Ni-Ki was a type of temporary relief. He wasn’t what you needed long-term.

What hurt even more was how he never could’ve been the one to fill that void. He wished he had been more present. Wished he hadn’t let distance pull them apart. But the truth was, he was still wrestling with his own demons, his own dreams, and that didn’t leave much room for anyone else.

He threw himself into basketball like never before. Early morning practices, weight training, extra drills. He focused on the game, on pushing through the exhaustion. But each time he pushed harder, he found his mind wandering to you, to how things ended between you, to how he hadn’t been enough for you when you needed him most.

He stopped at the court late one night, when the city was still and the echo of basketballs bouncing off the pavement seemed like the only sound in the world. He lined up shots, one after the other. Swish. Swish. Swish. His mind drifted back to high school, when he would stand on the court, his eyes fixed on the basket, and whisper to himself, “This is for you.” He would always imagine you there, sitting in the bleachers, cheering him on, proud of him. Back then, he didn’t need much more than that. The way you would be there for him, no matter what. It was simple, effortless.

He missed that. Missed having someone who believed in him unconditionally. Missed being the one to offer you that same unwavering support. In high school, he was always the one pushing you to follow your dreams, telling you that you could do anything. He remembered how you’d smile at him, how you’d talk about your future with such excitement, and how he’d promise to be by your side every step of the way.

Now, he was the one alone, pushing himself toward a future that felt empty without you.

Swish. Another shot. His chest tightened as the ball hit the rim and bounced back. It wasn’t perfect. But nothing ever felt perfect without you by his side.

His coach noticed. So did the scouts.

Jake’s growth both mentally and physically was undeniable. He wasn’t just playing for the NBA anymore; he was playing to forget. Forget the mistakes. Forget the regret. Forget how he still loved you. He told himself he was moving on, that basketball was his only focus now. But whenever he watched you post about your clinicals, your late-night study sessions, your dedication to becoming a nurse, he felt a sharp pang in his chest.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed seeing your determination, how much he admired the quiet strength you carried. You were so damn capable, pushing through, doing something that mattered. You had found your path, and he couldn’t help but feel like he had failed at his own.

Seeing you work so hard, even from a distance, made him feel like he was wasting time. Like he wasn’t doing enough. Like he wasn’t growing in the way he wanted to. The truth was, he hadn’t allowed himself to fully chase his dreams when it mattered. He had always been afraid of failing, of not being enough. Now that fear had shifted into something else like an overwhelming drive to prove himself, to become the man he had always wanted to be.

For the first time in months, Jake allowed himself to feel the fire of motivation. You had pushed him, even if you didn’t know it. You had always been the kind of person who went after what you wanted, and even though he couldn’t be there with you, he was finally going to live up to the promise he had made, to make something of himself.

By the time the NBA draft rolled around, Jake was ready. He had worked tirelessly, pushing through pain and exhaustion, sacrificing everything for this moment. When his name was called, it wasn’t just a win for him, it was a moment of reckoning. Melbourne to the NBA. He had done it. And maybe, just maybe, he could finally show you that he had become the man you had always believed he could be.

But still, there was this ache. He had made it without you. And he couldn’t shake the thought of how everything might’ve been different if he had been braver. If he had stayed.

He didn’t want to just succeed for himself anymore. He wanted to succeed for you too. He wanted to show you that he could be what you needed, what you deserved, even if it was too late. The thought of meeting you in the States one day, maybe after a game, maybe just to catch up over coffee or a quiet conversation, pushed him forward. He wasn’t sure if that moment would ever come, but it didn’t matter. The idea of it kept him grounded.

In the quiet moments after the draft, he let himself feel it. The sadness. The loss. He missed you more than he thought was possible. And maybe more than he ever would admit. But as he packed his things, ready to head to the US and begin his journey, a part of him believed that one day, his path would cross with yours again.

You were in your room, papers scattered around you, a textbook open as you calculated pediatric dosages. It was late, and your mind was focused on memorizing every equation and formula for your next exam. The quiet hum of the night seemed to match your concentration until your phone buzzed on the desk. You glanced at the screen to see your brother’s name lighting up.

You picked up the call, raising an eyebrow. "what’s up?" you asked, half expecting a random question about the latest meme or an update to send you.

But when his face appeared on the screen, his expression was different. It was excited, almost breathless. "You need to see this," he said, barely able to contain himself. He was holding up his laptop, but instead of speaking, he quickly swiped the screen and held it up to the camera.

"Look at this," he said again, pointing at the screen. "It’s Jake. They just called his name."

Your heart skipped. "What do you mean?"

He turned the laptop to face you properly, revealing the ESPN broadcast of the NBA Draft. There, in the list of top picks, was Jake’s name. Your pulse quickened as you adjusted your position on the bed to get a better view.

"With the first overall pick in the NBA Draft, the Lakers select Jake Sim, guard, from the University of Melbourne."

The words hung in the air as you stared at the screen, disbelief making your chest tighten. There he was, your eyes fixated on his name. Taller, confident, and just as you imagined, still the same Jake, but in a new light. He was on stage, surrounded by his family, his smile wide and proud as they shared in the moment. You could almost feel his excitement through the screen.

You blinked, not sure whether the tears welling up were from joy or the bittersweet feeling that came with it. This was what he had worked for, what he had dreamed of, and here it was finally happening. Just without you there.

You leaned back, your breath shaky as you smiled at your brother, still holding the laptop. "Wow," you whispered, your voice soft and filled with awe. "He really made it."

Your brother grinned. "I knew he would. He’s always had it in him."

"Yeah," you said quietly, a lump in your throat. "I always knew he would too."

You swallowed hard, your gaze fixed on the screen, unable to look away. You missed him. You missed all those quiet moments, the way he’d talk to you about his goals, the way you’d always be there to support him. Now, it was happening. He was living his dream, and though you weren’t there with him, part of you felt like you were. He had made it.

Your brother smiled. "I’ll let you have your moment. You should watch it." He pulled back from the screen and gave you some space.

You nodded, though your heart ached a little more than you expected. Watching him now, seeing everything unfold, you realized how much you still admired Jake. He had done it all on his own, made his dreams come true. And somehow, even if you weren’t physically there to share this with him, you knew deep down you always would be.

You stayed on the call with your brother for a while longer, watching Jake’s moment of triumph unfold. It was bittersweet, but it also felt right as Jake had always been destined for this, and no matter how far apart you were, his success still meant everything to you.

Jake stood backstage, his hands sweating and his heart racing. The noise from the crowd outside was a distant hum, muffled by the thick curtains and walls that separated him from the main stage. He shifted from one foot to the other, adjusting the suit he had spent hours picking out, but nothing felt real in this moment. His name hadn’t been called yet, but he could feel the tension, electric and thick, surrounding him.

He glanced at his family beside him, all of them wearing wide grins and their eyes shining with pride. His mom gave him a gentle nod of reassurance, and his dad’s hand rested firmly on his shoulder. They had all been with him since the beginning. Since that first awkward basketball practice, the countless late-night phone calls when he doubted himself, the days when he felt like he could never get to this point. They had all believed in him when he was too scared to believe in himself. And now, this moment, the moment that defined everything he had worked for was finally here.

The announcer’s voice echoed through the arena, and everything seemed to slow down. “With the first overall pick in the 2025 NBA Draft, the Lakers select Jake Sim a guard, University of Melbourne.”

A wave of disbelief hit him, but it was quickly replaced by the rush of excitement and pride. The crowd erupted in cheers, a roar so loud he could feel it vibrating in his bones. Jake couldn’t help but grin as he walked toward the stage, shaking hands with the commissioner, his family following close behind. As the cameras flashed, he adjusted his cap, standing taller than he’d ever felt. He could hear the cheers, the sound of his name being chanted, and in that moment, he felt like everything he had worked for, every drop of sweat and every lonely night on the court, had led him here.

When he reached the microphone, the world felt still. He glanced over at his family, and his gaze lingered for a moment on his mom, who had tears in her eyes. This was it. This was everything.

But as he turned to smile for the cameras, a thought pierced through the noise. The one person who should have been here, who should have been cheering him on, wasn’t.

It hit him harder than he expected. He had been so focused on the moment, on the excitement, and on the people who had supported him through every step of his journey, that he hadn’t allowed himself to think about how different things were. You had always been the one who had understood his dreams the most, the one who had been by his side through it all. You were the one who had cheered for him even when he was just a kid with a ball, dreaming of this very moment.

But now, you were gone.

Jake’s smile faltered for a split second as he looked out at the crowd, the weight of the realization settling heavily in his chest. He had made it. He had done it, and he was proud of himself there was no doubt about that. But in this sea of people, of flashing lights and loud cheers, a part of him couldn’t help but long for your presence. He missed hearing your voice saying you were proud of him too.

When the cameras shifted, he glanced down at his phone, almost instinctively. His thumb hovered over your contact, the last message you had sent him still sitting there. He hadn’t heard from you in months not since everything had changed. And as he stood there, his heart aching with the bittersweetness of it all, he realized something he had been avoiding. He had no idea how he was going to share this with you now.

The thought of you being so far away, of your lives moving on without each other, hit him with an overwhelming finality. You were part of his story, a constant in the chapters that had gotten him to this point. But now, it felt like the book had closed, and he wasn’t sure how to open it again.

“Jake,” someone called his name, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He straightened up, pulling himself together. The cameras were on him again, and his family was there, cheering louder than ever. The moment had come, and he couldn’t afford to get lost in the past. He had done it. He was going to the NBA, and no matter how bittersweet it felt, this was his dream come true.

He looked at his family once more, feeling a swell of gratitude for them, grateful for everything they had done for him. He promised himself that he would work even harder now, that he would keep pushing forward, not just for him, but for everyone who had ever believed in him.

But as the applause echoed around him, Jake couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Something that he couldn’t quite get back. Something that had once meant everything.

You.

CSU Long Beach was quieter than Stanford, but you liked it. Your classes were tough but fulfilling. You found peace in your routines such as studying at your favorite café, walking along the beach after lab sessions, and calling Olivia whenever you missed home. It was different, and it felt like a necessary step forward, but something was always missing. Something that used to be a part of you, a part of your life, but was now just an empty space you couldn’t fill.

One afternoon, between shifts at the hospital and a pathophysiology quiz you were trying to cram for, you felt your phone buzz in your bag. You pulled it out absentmindedly, the screen lighting up with a notification.

Jake followed you.

Your breath hitched in your chest, and for a moment, you froze. The world around you seemed to blur. He was still out there. Still somewhere, doing the thing he’d always dreamed about. Your thumb hovered over his name, and you clicked on his profile before you even had time to process your emotions.

His profile picture was him in his tight fit uniform, the purple and yellow logo of the team clear on his chest. His jawline was sharper, more mature, and his smile seemed more polished than the one you used to know. But his eyes were still the same. So familiar and so real.

You stared at it, feeling something shift in your chest. He was living his dream. You’d always known he would, and now he was there. He had made it. But still… why now?

You didn’t know how long you stared at the screen, just trying to process it. Everything had changed. The spaces between you both had only grown wider with time, but in that moment, there was that familiar, unspoken feeling that made you wonder if some things could never truly end.

You followed him back without thinking. There was no hesitation, no second guess. It just felt… right.

As soon as you did, his story popped up. A video of him at the gym, lifting weights, his focus so intense that the only sound was the clink of metal against metal. Sweat beaded along his temple, and his muscles flexed with every rep. It was him, in his element, in his glory. The words "Early Morning Grind" flashed across the screen in bold letters.

You watched it once, then again, and then a third time, your heart beating faster with each replay. Your fingers itched to message him, to say something anything, but you didn’t. Instead, you found yourself scrolling back through his feed, through months of posts. The new photos, the stories, all of it. Every little moment of his success, his journey that had continued while yours had shifted. The new teammates, the smiling selfies with fans, the late-night practices that left him drenched in sweat, and his teammates' congratulatory posts after big wins.

But as you scrolled, you felt that same aching longing gnaw at you. You couldn’t help but feel like an outsider. A spectator to a life that was once so intertwined with your own. You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t healthy to be so absorbed in it, but every new post was like a thread pulling you back to the past. Every time he posted, you felt like you were witnessing a side of him you couldn’t touch anymore.

You couldn’t stop. Each story, each update, felt like an invitation, even if it wasn’t meant to be one.

Jake watched your stories too. The little red ring that appeared around his name whenever he clicked on one of your updates sent a rush of warmth through your veins. It didn’t make sense. He had so many followers. He was busy living his life, but somehow, there he was, watching. And that... small acknowledgment... was all it took to keep you holding on.

You never messaged him, though. The silence between you was heavy and deafening. It said everything that words couldn’t.

Every crowded street, every love song on the radio, every text you never sent it all brought him back. You caught yourself staring out the window sometimes, thinking about him, about everything you used to share, about how he used to be your first thought in the morning and your last one at night. You still caught glimpses of him in your life such as his favorite songs popping up on your playlists, his old Instagram posts flooding your memories.

One day, while you were sifting through papers on your desk, you saw a letter poking out from between a stack of textbooks. Curiosity piqued, you pulled it out. It was an envelope with your name written on it in bold, elegant script. It seemed out of place, but you opened it, and what you found inside made your heart stop.

Two tickets.

Courtside.

Jake’s upcoming game in LA.

Your hands shook as you stared at the tickets, your mind racing. You hadn’t expected this, didn’t know it was even a possibility. But there it was, an invitation of sorts from the very team that had drafted him, giving you the chance to witness the success he had worked so hard for. You didn’t even remember how you had gotten the tickets at first until the memory came rushing back.

Your mom had been the one to reach out through her friend, someone who had connections with Jake’s team. It wasn’t anything you had planned for. She’d mentioned how proud she was of Jake, and you’d shared stories of his journey with her so often that she had kept an eye on him from afar. The tickets, she explained, had been offered to you through those connections, a gesture of respect for everything Jake had overcome and for the relationship you once shared. You hadn’t even known she had gone ahead and gotten them for you.

But here they were.

You folded them carefully, slipping them back into the envelope. It was overwhelming, this wave of nostalgia mixed with sadness. The excitement that you could be there, in person, cheering him on, but also the realization of how much time had passed since you’d been a part of his world.

You set the envelope on your desk, the weight of it heavy in your chest. Maybe some things aren’t over. Not yet.

[foster-the-world]

Wrong Order

Per our eating more healthy I've been placing orders with a company that delivers local produce, eggs, etc. Yesterday they sent me the wrong order. So now I have food that we don't normally eat. Need to figure out what to do with tofu. A lot of it is not recommended for people with eczema - which is annoying. We got fennel and mushrooms which are good for eczema but I don't normally use. I assume the company will still send my order.

Now that I've been at work for over a year I've been taking more liberties with my schedule. Longer lunches, doing some telehealth appts at lunch. I make sure I get done more work than most people do. No one seems to notice. I'm hoping its because they don't care but not really sure. I assume if they don't like it they will tell me.

As a nurse I get multiple text messages a week about job opportunties. They are generic and sent to a ton of people, I assume. Last week a recruiter reached out about a job I must have applied to when looking for jobs over a year ago. Its the same job I am doing now. 9-5 Mon-Fri. Normally the problem with nursing jobs is you have to do weekends. Which doesn't work for life with kids right now. Basically the same pay as my current job. I use my husbands insurance so not worried about that. I assume the job is also paid for via Medicaid - which is obviously shaky right now. The only difference is - there is no office. When I' not with a patient everything is done at home. Which would be ideal for me. He said I have 48 hours post appt to do my documentation and can do on my own time. 10 cases a week - which is not difficult. Making my own schedule would make life with kids so much better. I'm going to go ahead with the interview. However, I most likely won't take it. I am happy with my bosses here. No drama. I haven't had any problems getting Christmas week off - which is hard in a nursing job and VERY important to me. I am getting a ton of overtime - which i do easily at night time. The OT means I can take extra weeks of vacation - which is also super important to me. My jobs certainly not 100% guaranteed with Medicaid cuts but I lay offs would be done in a fair way based off union rules, I assume. Plus, I would get unemployment.

Anyway, if you are looking for a job where they are desperate for people - nursing seems to be a fairly good bet. Nothing's guaranteed with a nut job and his crook friends in the WH but it seems more guaranteed than most. You won't get rich but the salary is decent - especially when starting out. If you already have a bachelors degree an accelerated nursing program takes roughly 18 months.

[say-al0e]

You Proof

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Bob never imagined the Hard Deck would play such an important part in his life. But after meeting the love of his life there, he can’t imagine his life without it. | Ft. “Do I make you nervous?” Requested by Anon.

Warnings: Drinking, allusion to sex, that’s about it. 

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k (a short one? Who am I?)

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

Robert Floyd never imagined the Hard Deck would become such a large part of his life.

Bars, in general, had never been his scene. He wasn’t much of a drinker, really only indulged on special occasions - and rarely had more than a drink or two - and had never been especially fond of large crowds. Besides, before his return to Top Gun, he’d never really had a group of friends to tag along with and long ago decided that sitting at a bar alone was worse for his reputation than simply not going.

During his initial stint at Top Gun, Bob heard about the Hard Deck. It was almost impossible not to know the place by name as it seemed to be where everyone spent their weekends, a place to unwind and potentially meet someone. Still, as omnipresent as it seemed to be in the lives of his classmates, it was a place Bob never ventured himself. 

The place always seemed a little too daunting - too loud, too busy, too full of officers he’d rather not spend time with outside of work. Way back when, he just couldn’t understand the appeal.

Now, however, he found himself seated on a barstool near the pool table at least once a week.

It seemed that now, more often than not, he settled in at the beginning of the night after a text from Phoenix or Rooster beckoned him. As they drank their beers, he nursed a Coke and laughed at the latest petty argument someone seemed to be having with Hangman.

Everyone took turns around the pool table or attempting to run through every trick shot Hangman seemed capable of with darts and enjoyed a few moments of downtime in an otherwise hectic life. And each night, he sat with his friends - a group he’d never expected to belong to but now couldn’t imagine a life without - and enjoyed being a part of something larger than himself.

The friends he’d made were enough to bring him back to the Hard Deck time and time again. They were enough to have him settled on a barstool for hours as they all talked and laughed and commiserated. They were enough to make him happy, content and relaxed for the first time in a long while, and Bob really couldn’t have asked for much more.

Then, he met you.

Somewhere amongst the chaos and the khaki, amidst the beer and pool and laughter, you were thrown into his life. He’d never seen you before - he felt like Hangman even thinking it, but he was so captivated that he knew he would’ve remembered your face - and though you stood out, dressed in a soft blue sundress in a sea of uniforms, he he liked to believe he would’ve noticed you regardless.

A rowdy Friday night crowd sent you stumbling into him, quite literally, and he almost hadn’t heard your immediate apology over the beating of his own heart. If he’d thought you were pretty from afar, up close, he was certain you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

It was a miracle he’d managed to string together a coherent sentence, let alone participate in an entire conversation with you, but he’d somehow managed. He not only managed to captivate your attention long enough to learn your name, he left the Hard Deck that night with your number programmed into his phone and a promise of another meeting.

Since then, Bob rarely ventured to the Hard Deck alone.

Instead of sitting on a barstool alone, a wallflower - by choice now, no longer excluded from the conversation - he had you right by his side. You joined his laughter as Phoenix managed to outwit Hangman once more. You happily listened as Fanboy, well, fanboyed over the latest super hero film he’d seen and Bob asked questions because he knew what it was like to have no one take an interest. You joined in on conversations and never once looked put out by the amount of time you spent in a Navy bar, though he sometimes imagined you’d rather be anywhere else.

Bob spent a significant amount of time at the Hard Deck but now, so did you.

When you told him that you were planning a girls’ night with Phoenix, he figured the pair of you would venture to a nicer bar in the city. There was no shortage of fun places, ones where you weren’t likely to run into someone who only knew you as Bob’s girlfriend, but he’d been mistaken.

The Hard Deck was your top choice and he understood why.

Like Bob, you weren’t one to overindulge. Though you tended to have a drink when you visited the Hard Deck - something light he would occasionally steal a sip of - it was rarely more than one or two. However, it had been a long week for both you and Phoenix so he had an inkling the self-imposed limit would be out the door sooner rather than later.

Any other bar, you would’ve been constantly looking over your shoulder, a little too worried to truly let go. The Hard Deck felt safer - though he knew you would still remain vigilant, as would Phoenix - and gave you both a chance to enjoy yourselves a little more. The Hard Deck was your environment now, a place you felt comfortable, and he understood the need for that space as he encouraged the guys to opt for another venue.

At the beginning of the night, he promised to pick you up. No matter your argument - “I don’t want you to miss out on guys’ night! I can just get an Uber.” - he insisted, always eager to spend whatever time with you he could. You weren’t guaranteed anything and he wanted to be there, in any way he could.

And true to his word, when you called, Bob answered.

The guys were all still gathered at Maverick’s - Rooster, Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback, all still sipping beer and listening intently to the captain’s greatest stories, and to a few embarrassing stories about Rooster - but he’d bid them all goodnight and headed straight for you.

Bob figured he could’ve found his way through the chaos in the dark as he wandered through the Saturday night crowd. They spilled out into the parking lot, a mix of locals and officers he’d grown almost fond of, but it was familiar. He knew the place like the back of his hand and had no problem weaving through tipsy crowds in search of your usual table.

Nestled near the pool tables, sat on the barstool he usually occupied, you and Natasha were locked in what seemed to be an intense conversation. The closer he drew, the clearer your words became.

“No,” you insisted, huffing as you swirled your straw in the remnants of your drink. “I think Rooster would win in a physical fight because he’s got a lot of repressed rage. Hangman would be fine for a bit but I think he’d go down quick.” 

Bob paused just shy of your table, just out of sight, and did nothing to hide his amusement as he watched Natasha shake her head. “Rooster’s not a fighter,” she refuted, grip on her drink loose as she lifted it halfway to her mouth before thinking better of the action. “He’d start to throw a punch and then realize what he’d done. No one would win.”

“D’you really think Rooster would pass up the opportunity to hit him? I know you’re all friends now but I think he’d still take a swing.” 

While Bob no longer dreaded the sight of Hangman entering a room - they really had become friends, brothers, even - there were still moments he would easily admit he fantasized about throwing something heavy in his direction. He knew he wasn’t alone, if Natasha’s rolled eyes and nod of acknowledgement was anything to go by, and shook his head as you grinned triumphantly.

Natasha drained the rest of her drink in one sip, easily downing the rest of a brightly colored drink Bob imagined would leave her with a hangover worthy of complaint the following day, before she fixed you with a grin. “What about Bob?”

“What about Bob?” 

It didn’t take the keenest eye or the sharpest ear to notice the way you softened at her mention of him, the way you went just a little lovesick and smiled with just the utterance of his name, and Bob felt his heart beat double in his chest. While your relationship had long since evolved past the honeymoon stage, the softness - the care, the adoration - was still ever-present and he’d started to hope it would never fade.

The friends you shared, however, merely rolled their eyes. “Who’d win in a fight, Bob or Hangman?”

“Bob’s not a fighter,” you declared, immediately and without sparing a moment to think. “He’s a sweetheart.”

“You’re telling me Bob would pass up the opportunity to fight Hangman?” Natasha repeated your earlier argument, grinning when you rolled your eyes, and Bob nearly laughed as you slid your drink to the center of the table and rested your chin in your hand.

“No. I think if Hangman pissed him off enough and Robbie had a bad enough day, he’d go for it. But it’s not in his nature.” You nodded, satisfied with your own answer, before you hummed. A thoughtful frown scrunched your brows and Bob lifted a hand to hide his smile as you amended, “He’s stronger than he looks, though. He could win, if he wanted.”

The declaration was confident, certain, and Bob felt a small glimmer of something - pride, maybe - burn bright in his chest. There were moments that he doubted himself, moments he wondered what he’d done to deserve you, but you were consistently his biggest fan. There was never a moment you allowed him to doubt for long, always eager to build him up, and he appreciated the ego boost more than you knew.

“Not that I want to know,” Natasha began, “but is he always sweet?”

Natasha’s question saw Bob moving once more, hurrying through the crowd to approach your table. While you were just as happy to keep your relationship relatively quiet as he was, the difference between sobriety and a few drinks - the difference between a conversation with everyone and a conversation with just Natasha - meant that you would happily spill everything.

“Not always,” you answered with a mischievous grin. “There was this one time, right after he got back from that last deployment -“

Before you could continue, words that would certainly change the way Natasha looked at him on the tip of your tongue, Bob approached the table. “Hi, sweetheart.” It was a little too loud, a little too abrupt, and he was certain you could both see the scarlet flush creeping up his neck but neither of you mentioned it.

Natasha smirked at the sight of him so clearly flustered - at both the memory and the potential revelation - while you brightened to an almost blinding grin at the sight of him.

“Robbie,” you cheered, reaching out to pull him close. “I missed you!”

Less than five hours had passed since you last saw one another - he’d dropped you off before heading to Maverick’s - but he had no desire to remind you of that. Instead, he nodded and looped his arm around your shoulders to keep you both steady as yours fell to his waist. “Missed you, too,” he assured you, grinning sheepishly as he met Natasha’s gaze. “Hi, Nat.”

“Hiya, Robbie.” He rolled his eyes at her playful taunt, used to the teasing nickname every time you were around - or even mentioned. “Your girlfriend was just telling me how you’re not always a total sweetheart,” she continued, grinning when he winced. “You interrupted what was bound to be a fantastic story.”

“Mm, it is!” Your eager nod made him laugh as he squeezed your shoulder gently. Before he could encourage a change in topic, however, you urged, “Have a drink with us so I can finish!”

“Who’s gonna get us home, then?” The question was soft, fond, and he resisted the urge to lean in and press a soft kiss to your forehead as you frowned.

“Uber.” You spoke as if that was the most obvious answer - he almost expected a ‘duh’ tacked on at the end, just for effect - but you simply fixed him with a frown.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart,” he soothed, fighting the urge to coo as you deflated. As you huffed, disappointed in his refusal, he turned to Natasha. “Want us to take you home, Nat?”

“Nah, my ride’s here.” Bob turned just in time to catch sight of Natasha’s girlfriend, a woman he’d come to know well as the four of you went out together often, throw her hand up in a quick wave. “G’night, Robbie,” she cooed, grinning as she pinched his cheek and earned herself a fond roll of his eyes. “G’night, babe!” She stood from the table and caught you in a quick hug, squeezing just a little tighter than normal, before heading to meet her girlfriend.

Bob shook his head, entirely amused, before turning his full attention to you. His eyes met yours, already trained on his face, and he couldn’t help but smile as he realized what you wanted. Though PDA wasn’t much - or often - he had no qualms about leaning in and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.

It was late enough that no one paid either of you any mind, everyone either too far gone to notice anyone outside of their group or on the way out themselves, and you grinned happily when he pulled away. “Take me home, please,” you requested, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes.

With a smile of his own, Bob helped you from your stool - steadied your on your feet as you nearly stumbled with your first step - and held his laughter as you smiled sheepishly. “C’mon,” he encouraged, careful to keep an arm around you as he guided you toward the bar, ���let’s settle up so we can get home.”

As you stood, waiting for a bartender to close out your tab, Bob’s fingers tapped against your side. As he did so, you felt compelled to ask, “Do I make you nervous, Robbie?”

Bright eyes, just a touch glassy and beginning to grow heavy-lidded, met his as he glanced at you. “Not anymore, sweetheart.” It was honest, as he always tried to be with you, and earned him a soft coo as you tipped your head. But he couldn’t help wondering, “Why d’you ask?”

“But I did?” When he nodded, barely able to contain soft laughter, you frowned. “Nat said I did. Why? I’m not scary,” you insisted, 

“No, you’re not,” he agreed, smile softening as he reclaimed your card and began guiding you toward the door. “But you were at first.” As you stepped out of the Hard Deck and into the cool night air, Bob spared you a glance and nearly melted at the sight of you waiting patiently for him to continue. “I thought you were gorgeous,” he complimented, “completely out of my league. I figured you would go for someone like Rooster or Hangman. But then you kept talking to me and I had no idea why but I’m glad you did.”

“You know what’s funny?”

Bob hummed, curious, as he helped you into the front seat. “What’s that?” You waited, patient and quiet, for him to round the car and settle into the driver’s seat before you smiled at him.

“You made me nervous, too.”

That was enough to make him pause, hand on the gearshift, as he frowned. The entire time you’d spent getting to know one another, you’d never seemed even remotely nervous. Even as he fumbled his words and felt as if his entire body would remain permanently flushed in your presence, you looked completely at ease. “I did?”

“Mm.”  It was matter of fact, a certain nod before leaning your head against the window and sighing at the cool glass against your heated skin. “I thought you were pretty, too,” you confessed, smile a little shy as Bob’s gaze softened. “And you didn’t really seem like you wanted to talk to me. Know now it’s cause you were shy but I was nervous. I really wanted you to like me.”

“I liked you right away.” Bob felt his entire body soften as you reached for his hand, fingers intertwining with his, and he took the opportunity to lift your hands and press a soft kiss to the back of yours as he stopped at a light. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me,” he admitted, voice quiet in the silence of the car, “but you did.”

“I always will. You’re kinda perfect, Robbie.”

Bob knew that he wasn’t perfect - he wasn’t even close - but with you smiling at him like that, eyes bright and so sincere, he knew he’d spend the rest of his life trying to be. Regardless of the future you embarked upon, whatever awaited you both down the line, Bob was determined to spend the rest of his life making you happy, however he could.

And as he drove you home, your hand tangled in his even as you began to nod off, he wondered if Penny had ever hosted a wedding reception - or, at the very least, an engagement party - at the Hard Deck. While Bob never imagined the Hard Deck becoming such a massive part of his life, he now found himself thankful for every moment he’d been able to spend there as it all lead him straight to you.

________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: Slowly but surely chipping away at writer’s block. Hangman is likely next. I need to write something that’s not smut and not sad for him. Anyway, I’m knocking out requests so fingers crossed I stay on a roll. Perk of my life falling apart? My writing returns!

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @callsignharper​, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @rh3tt​, @dakotakazansky​, @silversprings-mp3​

[andhumanslovedstories]

sorry if you’ve answered this before, but what made you go into nursing?

In 2016 Donald Trump got elected, which was not what I was expecting to happen and a bit of a disappointment, to put it very very lightly. I was 25 and basically been bumming around my parents' house working as a barista when me and Cyrus weren't traveling and living in a van. We had plans for the future, but they were more "where do we wanna live" rather than "what do you wanna do?" Once he got elected, it didn't feel right sticking to the same plan. I felt I had to do something different with my life, something that mattered and helped people and offset the harm that would come and that had already come.

So I thought about the stuff that I valued most (having a job that helps people, having a concrete positive effect and being able to see it, maintaining access to care, reproductive health, advocating for people who aren't in a position to effectively advocate for themselves, intersectional feminism), and I thought about the stuff that has always interested me intellectually (public health, narratives of caregiving and illness, the history of the AIDS epidemic, people I don't know anything about, how people behave in extraordinary moments, my mom and aunt's nursing stories), and I thought about a bunch of practical concerns (didn't want to take work home with me, good paycheck, good job security, a lot of different uses from one degree, I'd be able to get my nursing degree in an accelerated second degree program for very cheap if I arranged things right*, worst case scenario it would give me something to write about).

It also matters a lot that my mom is a nurse and so fucking passionate about nursing, and that I admire my mom tremendously. Meanwhile my aunt, who I also admire, was an ESL teacher in an underfunded district, and I saw how passionate she was as well, and I saw how much work she took home every night and weekend and how much of her personal money she poured into her work. Seeing the life of teachers up close eliminated teaching as a career course. So nursing made the most sense. I was in community college taking my pre-reqs by the time Trump was sworn into office.

I did home health nursing because that's what I could get hired for as a new grad, and now I do bedside hospital nursing because it pays more, it's easier to get time off, I get to talk to other people, and it gives me a lot of skills I can take to wherever I go to next. I've been a nurse now longer than I was in school to become a nurse, which was one of my most basic career goals, and I have a lovely apartment, and don't worry too much about day-to-day finances, and when I come home from work I'm usually proud of what I've done that day. And best of all, it's literally impossible for me to do my job from home. They can't make me. The patients aren't in my lovely apartment. On the whole, I'm very satisfied with how all this has been working out.

(*I'm very sorry to say the circumstances which allowed me to do this are basically unrepeatable for the layperson and rely heavily on your mother being a nursing school instructor, and your family being willing and able to support you as you completely cease making money so you can become a legal dependent again and be eligible for your parent's tuition reimbursement. I can offer no advice here, just gratitude to my parents for helping me out so much.)

[sawtastic-sideblog]

Specs x Reader Gender Neutral Reader TW: violence, blood, mentions of death and school shooters, there may be more I have forgotten to mention so just a general proceed with caution.

"I'm looking for Sebastian Parker. Sebastian are you with us?" The psychic, Elise, calls to the room. You roll your eyes, not so subtly, and catch the eye of the bearded camera man, Tucker. He shakes his head and looks back at his screen as he continues to walk around the group of six gathered in a circle in your dining room.

Your older brother, Sebastian, died two years ago and your mom, Alice, hasn't been the same since. None of you have, but your mom seemed to be taking it the hardest. Sebastian was thirteen years older than you and from a previous relationship your mom had. Your dad, Patrick, always said Sebastian was his son. They were close. The year Sebastian turned eighteen, he went to your dad and asked him to be adopted. Your dad agreed, enthusiastically and cried hugging Sebastian and just repeating 'my son' over and over again. The night Sebastian died, your dad stood in his hospital room, stroking his head, repeating those words over and over again.

Your little sister, Olivia, sat across from you. She and Sebastian also had a good relationship. With a twenty one year gap between the two, Livvy and Sebastian were the closest. You alway envied their relationship. Sebastian was smart and loved to help Livvy with her homework. He was an English teacher at the local high school. Livvy would visit him in his class and would help him with presentations and fun stuff he'd do with his classes. You would help with costumes and behind the scenes stuff. Livvy and Sebastian belonged on stage together. Since his death, Livvy hasn't been as involved with the school's theater program, but still auditions and does the plays. "For Sebby," she says.

You and Sebastian were close, but only after he moved out. When you were born, he was a stubborn teenager who didn't want the attention of his mother and the only stable father figure he'd ever known taken away from him. He didn't want his weekends taken by some brat he'd have to watch, which was seldom if at all. After he moved out, you got sick with pneumonia and almost died in the hospital. He realized how much he cared for you and drove eighteen hours back from college to be with you. He transferred closer to be with the family and would let you stay at his apartment when your mom had bad days. Her pregnancy with Olivia was not an easy one. You and Sebastian grew close and went to all thr new movies, sport games, and community events together and with his friends. You were even the flower girl at Sebastian's best friend's wedding when you were twelve.

Your mom has Sebastian at fifteen and was a single mom until she met your dad. She struggled to get by and from a young age, Sebastian realized that they didn't have much and he would do odd jobs for people of the community. When your dad came to town, wanting a fresh start away from toxic parents and a crazy ex, Sebastian askedif he needed ay help with boxes "for a price." Your dad agreed and later met your mom. Your dad would always ask Sebastian to "help" with leaky faucets, painting walls, and working on cars. His job was to sit and make sure your dad was doing everything safely. Eventually your parents started dating and got married two years later. Your dad helped put her through nursing school and she has loved every second of her job. After being a single mom and her child, relying on each other, and practically growing up together, your mom and Sebastian were best friends. Losing him broke her. She stayed in bed for months. One day she was back to her normal self, making pancakes for everyone.

"What's this, honey? It's after ten at night?" Your dad asked, putting his keys in thr bowl by the door as you and Livvy put your coats on h hooks.

"Is it? Oh, well, I've been so busy. I guess I lost track of time," she replied with a smile on her face.

"What have you been doing?"

"I cleaned the whole house. Where have you been?"

"Work, school, dinner, and Livvy's play. Why are you cleaning the whole house? We did that this past weekend."

"Sebastian's coming home."

With that statement, all three hearts broke.

"Hey mom, it's late, let's get you to bed," you say and try to lead your mom to her room. After a little resistance you an your father manager to get your mom into bed. After that your mom kept insisting Sebastian would be coming home and recently she's started trying to contact him. Weird things started happening andit scared Olivia to the point she was always over at your apartment.

Last week, your dad woke up with scratches down his back. You immediately started looking for help and tracked down Elise. You arranged to meet at your parent's house tonight and Elise decided a seance would be the best course of action. You, being a skeptic, scoffed at her.

"There's no such things as ghosts."

"Ghosts, spirits, demons, they all exist, (Y/N), and we're the ones who are going to help you rid yourselves of them."

"No offense, Elise, but this is crazy."

"Sometimes crazy works."

So, now, you're in the dining room of your childhood home, having a seance to contact your dead brother. Still convinced that this is crazy, you look around the circle. You can't read your dad's face, but your mom has a look of hope, Livvy looks scared, Elise has a look of intense concentration, and her assistant, Spec, is writing at lightning speed as Elie speaks.

"Sebatian Parker. Follow the sound of my voice."

You scoff and try to coverit with a cough, but Tucker and Specs both give you looks. You put your gaze forward and close your eyes just as something grabs your chair and pulls it backwards. You let out a startled scream. You're lifted off the ground and feel your throat burn as if someone is choking you, but there is nobody there. You cough, gag, and sputter as Livvy watches in frozen horror, your mom stands with her hands over her mouth.

"Patrick, do something," she calls as she grips Livvy's arm tight. He leaps into action and tries to pull you off the wall. He's thrown across the room into Tucker and they both go down. Specs leaps from his seat and starts to rush toward you, but is thrown back into the China cabinet. The glass shatters and rains down around Spec's limp body. You try to scream, but nothing comes out.

Tucker sits up slowly. Once he's checked back into what's happening, he grabs his camera and springs to his feet, pointing the camera around the room.

"I command you to leave this family alone!"

You fall to the floor and take in a big gulp of air. Elise and her entire chair are tipped backwards and an invisible force starts to choke her. You mother and sister scream in terror and run to the corner and huddle together. Your dad sits up and watches, beary eyes and confused. You realize the danger Elise is in, so you run to the kitchen for salt and then the living room for an iron fire poking stick.

Hoping for the best, you swing the stick above Elise and she takes in a breath. You make a big circle out of the salt.

"Everyone in the ring! Don't mess it up!" You shout. Everyone does as they're told, except for Specs, who is still out.

"Steven! Steven, please, wake up!" Elise pleads. Specs' limp, bloody, body is dragged across the floor, up the wall, and is pinned to the ceiling. You all start shouting for him to wake up. He does and immediately starts to panic. He's thrown against the far wall and falls to the floor.

With every ounce of courage you have, you jump the salt line and swing the poking stick wildly as you run to Specs. You try to help him up, but you can't swing and lift at the same time. Luckily, Tucker followed you and lifts his friend up and over his shoulder. The three of you make your way back to the circle where Tucker sets Specs down. The China cabinet shakes and the broken glass rattles.

"Leave them alone!" Elise yells. A chair raises behind Elise. It charged forward and you shove her out of the way just in time for it to hit you in the face.

You open your eyes and it's the dining room, but darker. You look around and see misty figures. It's your parents, sister, Elise, and her two assistants.

"(Y/N)!" A voice calls, far in the distance. You stand up and walk through the house. The voice continues to call for you. You climb the stairs and walk to Sebastian's room. You open the door to be met with a lady in a black wedding dress. Her hands reach for your throat, but something shoves her aside. Sebastian stands in her place and grabs your hand. Together, you two run down the stairs and out of the house.

"The garage," you say as the two of you reach the lawn. The lady in black appears in the doorway of the house. Sebastian looks for the spare key and fumbles it into the lock.

"What now?" Sebastian asks as he locks the door behind him.

"Remember when I was a kid and you were in college you showed me how to make a flame thrower?"

"With the aerosol spray can and a lighter? Yeah, but what are you going to do?"

"Burn her," you say with determination as you grab cans of spray paint off a shelf. Sebastian grabs the lighters from a drawer and tosses you one. Sebatian unlocks the door as you hide. As the lady enters, Sebastian sends flames in her direction. She tries to back up, but you step out of your hiding spot and spark up your makeshift flamethrower. She vanishes and you both put out your flames. You look at each other and laugh. Sebastian holds his arms out for a hug, which you gladly accept.

"We miss you, you know?"

"I know. I've been watching. Mom kept talking to me. I heard her, but the lady in black wouldn't let me communicate."

"Well, now you can."

"No, Cesario, I don't think I can."

You smile almost melancholic at the nickname. You read Twelfth Night when you were in your first semester of college and hated it. You can't understand Shakespeare to save your life. You decided to watch it instead and you developed a crush on Johnny Young, the guy that was playing Viola/Cesario in the production. Since then, Sebastian has called you Cesario as a joke. You miss that.

Elise smiles warmly as you come into view, holding Sebastian close to your side. You look down to where your father is holding your head in his lap, your mom is crying into your chest, and your sister is staring at you, fear etched on her delicate features.

"Hello, Sebastian. (Y/N)," Elise greets. Everyone looks to the direction Elise is looking.

"Where are we?" You ask.

"I call it The Further."

"Is it the afterlife?"

"Something like that, I suppose. I know seeing your brother again has been good for you, but you need to get back into your body," Elise says. You nod in understanding as dark figures shift in the shadows. You turn towards Sebastian and grab his hands.

"I love you, Seb. I miss you every single day. Nothing will ever change that. I wish I was there to stop the shooter from getting to you, but you were a hero. All the kids were fine. Physically anyway. Emotionally they're all traumatized," you say, tears cascading down your cheeks. Sebastian chuckles at your last statement and wipes the tears away.

"I'm glad they're relatively okay. I love you, too. Make sure mom, dad, and Liv know I love them as well?" Sebastian asks. You nod and give him one last hug before walking to your body. There's a flash of light that engulfs you.

Your eyes flutter open to see your family hovering over you. You sit up an hug your mom.

"He loves you guys," you say into your mom's shoulder. "He saved me too. He pushed the woman in black away and he taught me how to make a flamethrower."

"You did that when you were little. You burned down my rose bush," your dad says through his tears.

"We used them on the lady in black."

"Makes sense to me," Olivia says hugging you.

"My son," your dad whispers as his arms wrap around you.

A little while later, you walk into th bathroom to find a shirtless Specs picking glass from his back. Ot at last attempting to.

"Need some help?" You ask. The man jumps and turns to you. He sheepishly nods ans his cheeks turn red. You take the tweezers from him and start pulling small glass shards from his back. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he says with a laugh, "I've had worse. Actually, no, not really, this is probably the worst."

"Well, a ghost threw you into a China cabinet, so I'm not surprised."

"Still a skeptic?"

"No, but I know not to mess with that stuff."

"Smart cookie, you are. Ow."

"Sorry," you say before chuckling. "I don't think I've ever hears a more pitiful 'ow' in my life."

"I don't see a point in screaming. It won't do any good."

"Could be quite pleasurable. Let me know I'm doing a good job," you joke. Specs turns around to face you.

"Is that an invitation, (Y/N)?" He asks quietly. He moves to your ear and whispers "because I may have to take you up on that."

Your breath catches for a moment before you make Specs turn back around. Your cheeks heat up as you start pulling glass from the taller man's shoulder blade.

"In your dreams."

"I can't wait."

You take the next twenty minutes or so to pull glass from his back. When you're certain you got it all, you leave Specs to clean up. Your mom provided towels and your father and sister ran down to the twenty four hour gas station to get bandages and pain killers. Tuck walks over with an ice pack wrapped in a towel and presses it gently to your head.

"He likes you. He's been talking about you since we met last week. He wanted to ask you on a date, but doesn't know how to ask. Or when to ask. Obviously, he couldn't during all of this mess," Tucker gestures vaguely around at the mess of shatter glass, a splintered chair, and blood.

"Well, he was right in that aspect," you say.

"You should've heard him the day we met," He says before pitching his voice up to mimic his friend. "Tuck, did you see (Y/N)? Do you think they'd say yes if I asked them out? They had th prettiest eyes I've-"

Tucker is cut off by the bathroom door opening and Specs walking out. Shock, hurt, and embarrassment on his. He opens his mouth to say something before shoving past you and Tucker.

"I think you messed up, there, buddy," you say as Tucker just nods and walks into the bathroom with the towels your mom gave him and his spare clothes.

"He'll get over it," he called as he closed the door. Feeling bad for Specs, you go to look for him and find him on the back porch steps. You grab a blanket from thr back of the couch and walk outside. You wrap the blanket around his shoulders. He flinched from the sudden coverage on his back.

"It's too cold for you to be out here shirtless and with wet hair."

"So?"

"So? So, you'll get sick and miss our date."

He turns his head so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. You give him a soft smile and he smiles back. His face turns serious as he looks back across the yard at the old swing and play fort. He stands and hold out his hand. You take it and you both walk across the yard. Specs climbs into the fort and turns back to you with a goofy smile. You follow him up and you both sit facing the house where you see your mom and Elise talking.

"How did your brother die?"

"Some kid decided that if he couldn't have his ex girlfriend, nobody could. She was in Sebastian's class and one of the other teachers warned him and told him who it was. His class hid the girl behind a bookshelf and when the kid tried to come in and found the door locked, he shot through the doorknob and walked in. Seb stood up for the class. He blocked the kid from them. The kid kept threatening him, but Seb held his ground. The police came in at about that time and it scared the kid and he pulled the trigger. He claimed it was an accident. He went in with thr intention to kill someone. There was no accident. Seb was rushed to the hospital and died three days later. He was a hero. At graduation that year, all the students gave my mom a single red rose. The ones in his class that day gave my mom these folders full of letters written from themselves, their friends, and their families. They gave us some good memories to look back on and kind words of support and encouragement. It was sweet."

Specs' thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. He pulls you into his side for a hug, which you gratefully accept and return. The sliding glass door opens.

"Hey, we got stuff for Specs," Livvy's voice carries through the night. Specs let's you go and turns to slide down the slide. You follow him again and you walk to the house. Specs takes a seat backwards in a chair. He winces as your mom takes the blanket off his shoulders, the fibers from the fluffy blanket sticking to the fluid oozing from the wounds.

"You okay?" You ask, concerned. Specs nods and rests his forehead on the back of the chair. Livvy pulls you to the side to start cleaning up. Tucker and your dad pick up thr cabinet as you sweep the glass and Livvy picks up the broken chair.

"Can't belive (Y/N) broke this with their head," Livvy laughs.

"Yeah, and they've got a pretty good bruise to show for it," your dad replies.

"It's not that bad is it?" You ask as you sweep the glass into the dustpan.

"Well, it's not great," Livvy says. You set the broom and dustpan aside and make your way to the bathroom. You're looking at your forehead when the door opens.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Specs jokes. You smile as you make eye contact in the mirror.

"You alright?"

"Are you? You have a bruise on your head. You should be checked for a concussion," he says. You turn toward him and he grabs both sides of your head. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I like your shirt," you say, pulling at his Star Wars t-shirt.

"Star Wars fan?"

"Nope. Never seen a single movie."

"Okay, well, that's what we will be doing for our date."

"Watching Star Wars?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Specs leans closer to you and you loom up at him. Your eyes flutter closed. You can feel his breath fan over your face. A knock sounds at the door, breaking you two apart.

"(Y/N), you in there?" Your mom's voice calls. "I want to look at your head, darling."

"Yeah, mom. I'm in here," you answer. You barely open the door and slip through. Your mom checks you over and you agree to go to the hospital.

You and your dad walk out with Elise, Tucker, and Specs. You manage to pull Specs behind a tree as your dad and Elise talk and Tucker loads the van.

"Give me your phone," you say, holding out your hand. He does so and you put your number in. You two talk a few more minutes.

"Specs, let's go," Tucker yells at the tree. You bid him goodbye and he starts to walk away. You and your father walk to the car. Before Tucker can drive away the side door of the van opens. Specs jogs across the yard to you, spins you around, and crashes his lips into yours. You kiss him back just as he pulls away.

"See you Saturday," he smiles and pecks your lips one more time before running back to the van. You watch the van drive down the street as the sun begins to rise.

"Got yourself a boyfriend, huh, (Y/N)," your dad teases.

"Shut up," you say as you get into the car.

[tieflingkisser]

Israel launches major ground assault on starving population

from the article:

Medical sources say Israeli forces killed 151 Palestinians in Gaza on Sunday, at least 4 of whom were infants.

Among the dead were at least five Palestinian media workers: within hours of each other, journalists Abdul Rahman al-Abadilah, Aziz al-Hajjar, Ahmed al-Zainati, Khaled Abu Seif, and Nour Qandeel were killed in various parts of the Gaza Strip, along with members of their families.

The chief of UNRWA, the UN agency for Palestinian refugees, said a “gruesome milestone” has been reached as the death toll of UNRWA workers killed in Gaza passed 300.

The Israeli army forcibly displaced 300,000 from the northern Gaza Strip to Gaza City over the weekend, the Gaza Media Office said.

[...]

The renewed Israeli assault on the Gaza Strip that began on Friday night has already resulted in hundreds of deaths, thousands of injuries, tens of thousands of new refugees, a worsening risk of hunger, spreading disease and the closure of the enclave’s biggest hospitals.

In the past three weeks, the number of meals prepared in the UN World Food Program’s community kitchens has dropped from more than a million meals a day to just 290,000 [for a population of over 2 million with near zero access to food].

“I have passed several kitchens in the past few days where crowds of people were standing with empty pots and despair on their faces, and these people were being told to go home because all the food had run out for that day,” said OCHA Spokesperson Olga Cherevko last week.

[...]

“It’s like nothing I have ever seen in my life,” said American ICU nurse Wally Massay of his time in Gaza. Massay recently returned from a spell in the densely populated strip, where he was on the front lines of Israel’s campaign against a civilian population. He worked at numerous health centers, including the Al-Aqsa, Nasser, and Indonesia hospitals.

Massay sat down with MintPress News Director, Mnar Adley, to describe life in a Gaza hospital.

During this exclusive interview, Massay told MintPress that Israel was carrying out a deliberate policy of ethnic cleansing. The sorts of injuries he mainly dealt with were, in his own words, “A lot of gunshot wounds, a lot of straight shots to the head, to the chest, or to the groin, especially for boys.” “Their reproductive organs were completely dismantled and destroyed. So these boys, in 20 years, may never have children. It’s ethnic cleansing at its worst,” he added.

The gunshot wounds were surprisingly uniform and extremely accurate, leaving no doubt in his mind that they were deliberate. “You can tell that this person meant exactly what they have done,” he told Adley.

[dolivia]

Our LPN programs and night and weekend nursing courses are divided into several modules that make it simple for our nursing students to learn and understand the topics and even interconnected subjects.

[themireyaxcardenas]

[cis woman and she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [MIREYA CARDENAS]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [FIONA PALOMA]. You must be the [TWENTY-FIVE] year old [BARISTA AT DRIFTWOOD COFFEE SHOP]. Word is you’re [HOPEFUL] but can also be a bit [CLOSED-OFF] and your favorite song is [DEEP DIVE BY WALLOWS]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

tw: teenage pregnancy, tw: car crash, tw: parental death

@aurorabayaesthetic

For the longest time in her life, it'd always just been Mireya and her mom, Angelina. Angelina had gotten pregnant in high school at only sixteen and, despite everyone's insistences (and even her parents threatening to kick her out), kept her baby. The first few years were hard, Angelina having to drop out of high school and do whatever odd jobs she could to keep a roof over their heads, but she made it work for her and her daughter.

And Mireya? She idolized her mother. Angelina worked all day, studied to get her GED, and still made time for her. Her mother was her best friend, the center of her universe, and the day her mother got accepted into a nursing program when she was was only seven was probably the proudest day of little Reya's life--that is until she was ten and in the stands with Angelina's coworkers from the diner she worked at, probably cheering the loudest as her mom walked across the stage to get her diploma.

Her mom's drive helped fuel Mireya as well and she helped out as much as she could, always making sure her room was clean, helping with chores around the apartment, and never wanting to disrupt study time, which was definitely how Reya developed a love of books. She could spend hours in her little tent made of pillows and sheets, devouring chapter books way ahead of her grade level. She excelled in reading and writing, and Angelina encouraged her, all of Mireya's little spelling bee ribbons and role model certificates framed and put up right alongside Angelina's diploma.

When Reya was fifteen and in high school was when her mother met Koa. Mireya never knew her father, didn't really care to. She didn't need a father, but Angelina....she deserved a partner. Her mother dated over the years, but never anything serious, always putting her daughter and her work first. But even when she turned Koa down at first, he gently persisted, the two staying friends until finally Mireya talked some sense into her mother and told her to do something selfish for once in her life.

And the rest was history.

Koa was a kind and loving man. He treated Reya like his own daughter, had asked her permission to propose to Angelina, and this time when it was her turn to walk across the stage and get a diploma, they were the ones cheering the loudest in the crowd. That summer they got married, and at eighteen, Mireya finally had someone to officially call her dad. It was only made better when a year later, Angelina found out she was pregnant, Mireya becoming a big sister just shy of her twentieth birthday.

Her little brother Samuel truly made their family complete and for five blissful years, everything was pretty much perfect. They moved into a new home together, would spend their summers down in Aurora Bay, staying with Koa's family there. Every holiday and birthday was a big deal and honestly, they were the picture-perfect little family. So much so that when Mireya had gotten accepted into six different colleges, she ultimately chose Santa Clara University so she could stay close to her family in Sacramento, keeping a stellar GPA and making it a point to come home almost every weekend. Even after graduation and getting her own little apartment, she still was home all the time. In fact, she'd been home babysitting Sammy when she got the phone call that would change her and her little brother's life forever.

It'd been raining that February night, and from what she'd been told by the police afterwards, someone else had ran a red and t-boned their car. Angelina had died on impact (Mireya still hasn't decided if that was for the best or not) and her stepfather died on the way to the hospital. Reya doesn't even fully remember everything afterwards, just....going through the motions. She quit her job and sold her apartment, she took care of the house, she buried her parents. And then she did the easiest and yet hardest thing, she took on full custody of her brother, Sammy only five and half and not fully understanding why he'd never see his mommy and daddy again.

And Mireya tried to keep up some semblance of normalcy for him, but after weeks, she just couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't sleep in the same house where the ghosts of her parents lurked in every room. The house they'd built a home in, where she'd sit at the table and study, where meals were made and birthdays celebrated. She'd been sitting on that very couch when told she'd be a big sister. Every facet of their home held a memory that sucked the oxygen from her lungs and she just...couldn't do it anymore.

For weeks after the accident, her step-father's brother, really the only 'family' she had left, had invited her to come live in Aurora Bay--a town she'd spent almost every summer in for the last seven years. And now almost three months since the accident, Mireya has finally agreed, selling her family's home and putting most of the money into a saving's account for her brother since her mother's will left practically everything to her and for the second time that year, Mireya's whole life shifted as she moved south with Sammy. She's gotten them a little apartment and got herself a job at the coffeeshop in town, just trying to get some actual sense of normalcy back in her life.

extras:

full name: mireya inez cardenas

nicknames: reya, mira, miry

birthday: september 21, 1999 (samuel's is august 25, 2019)

height: 5'4

fluent in spanish

attended santa clara university from 2017 to 2021

parents passed away february 2025

moved to aurora bay in early may 2025, but spent every summer in town since 2018

pinterest board

connections:

@kalanixhale - her stepfather koa's brother/her step-uncle

@giannasutherland - long distance bestie

@jokangmin - summer fling

@theotanaka - tba

[theworldoffostering]

The director of special education did not show up to our IEP this week. It made the meeting a whole lot less contentious. It didn’t hurt that they assigned a much more experienced teacher to DS and our advocate showed up and kept everyone in line. Should it take that much work/effort/stress? Absolutely not! I will never understand how anyone is getting services if we cannot with all of the privileges we have personally been afforded.

DH and I talked to Ms. 6 this week. It could be worse, but it’s not great. She bought herself a car or someone else did, but it seems no one cares if she has insurance (legally required). I told her to call and get some quotes. She has not.

She has a boyfriend she met online that no one has vetted. He’s older (no idea how much older) as he has his own place. He lives three hours away in a neighboring state, but Ms. 6 couldn’t remember which city he lives in. She goes to see him on the weekends despite the fact that no one has met him or vetted him. It’s killing me! She was very vague on the details regarding what he does for a living.

Her car seems some basic repairs. Her grandpa has been a semi truck driver for decades. Hasn’t helped her with the repairs. Boyfriend is maybe some kind of mechanic but is unable to help with repairs. Mom is driving Ms. 6’s uninsured car and teaching Ms. 6 how to do donuts in it.

Ms. 6 said she applied to a PA program. When I pointed out that the PA program she applied for is a masters program (aren’t they all?) that cost $109k for the 28 month program, she seemed shocked and unimpressed. I did do a conference call with her and the high school this week to try to sort out her graduation.

Ms. 6 had knee surgery last week. I offered to be available and make the three hour drive to take her. She said her mom was taking her. The night before surgery her mom said she had to work and couldn’t take her. Grandma said she couldn’t take her because she had already take a sick day that week. Mom’s BF drove her, but apparently doesn’t like hospitals so he didn’t sit in the room and wait for Ms. 6 to be taken back to surgery. Surgery was pushed back several hours. Now mom doesn’t want to take her to the post-op appointment because the dogs have a vet appointment.

Post surgery, Ms. 6 was prescribed narcotics. Mom is an addict. Is she currently using? I have no idea but she used for at least a decade and has a conviction for cooking meth with the intent to sell. Kids were removed for many reasons including heroin use. Ms. 6 said the “oxy” isn’t managing her pain so she asked the nurse for something else AND an oxy refill. The pharmacist wouldn’t give both to mom. Mom told Ms. 6 it’s because they don’t have the same last name. I pointed out that I also don’t share the same last name as anyone in our family, and we were also recently denied a narcotic at the pharmacy. It is clear that no one that she has contact with lives in their thinking brains—they are all convinced that they are victims of one system or another.

Ms. 6 also quit her job. She said it was because they were making her do too much work.

Ms. 6 really wants contact with the other kids, particularly NB at this point. We have withheld that so far but can’t really articulate why. I think because it doesn’t feel healthy or good, and things don’t necessarily feel stable with her between DH and myself and her. I’ve talked to her a handful of times in the past month which are the first times I’ve spoken to her since she left in August. Anyone have experience in this area? Is it wrong for us to feel it out as parents before we open that relationship back up to siblings? It’s not my intention to use them as pawns, but it probably feels that way to Ms. 6. The kids here have not asked to see her, and DS and DD are actively continuing to say that they don’t want to have contact.

I’m trying to be something for her but that all feels very temporary and complicated right now. I sent her a small care package today via mail and am going to offer up some services for her like connecting her with colleges, but am trying to hold tight to a lot of boundaries at this point.

[secretlythepits]

This or That? Cancer Edition

My husband has a pain in his side when his rib moves when he breathes. It’s been growing increasingly painful and catching his attention.

Is it one of his lung nodules? Is the cancer in his bones spreading?

Or

Is it the pain from what I like to call: acting the damned fool.

His hobby/stress reliever is manual labor so last weekend he rebuilt or deck steps. He could have pulled something doing or bruised his rib doing that.

Fortunately he has a chest CT scheduled for tomorrow, but it’s so weird and scary. We are just humming along and then get these panics. My heart dropped when he mentioned going to the hospital to figure it out yesterday. Like, what? Are we there? Right now? So fast? Out of the blue?

I told him to call the oncology nurse first. There isn’t anything to be done because he is already going to get a scan. That will provide the answers.

In other news, it’s the first day of school which is a really big deal when you’ve been homeschooling for 7 years. I had butterflies last night. My son started a duel enrollment aviation program. He’s been passionate about airplanes for 5 years so likely this is the first day of starting his career.

MOTHERTRUCKER!

The oncologist just called. Wants to see him tomorrow right after his scans. Oh my God! Can we not just have a first day of school celebration? I need more normal time.

[pixeldistractions]

Grad school is happening at Magnolia Graduate College.

Leading our group is Dr. Heather Thompson, Dean of Students. She specializes in biology. (Hi, Ingrid’s mom!)

Our students this year:

Andre, Calvin, and Steven are all working on their medical degrees, and Amy is doing her nursing clinicals.

The others are non-medical graduate programs. Justin (architecture) and Natty, (teaching).

Justin may be a workaholic, but he’s still a geek. He’s studying on nights and weekends while maintaining his home renovation business and blogs, and being a newlywed husband and father of three. Overachieving much? That’s nothing new for Justin, the workaholic that he is. Workaholic except for when the video games are calling him.

— from “postcards from grad school” (1/4)

some gameplay notes on grad school:

The way I’m doing university in my game is that nobody is allowed to do a distinguished degree until they’ve completed a regular degree first. Regular degrees are undergraduate programs where my sims will usually reach level 3-6 in their core skills, while distinguished degrees are considered graduate programs and they are expected to reach levels 6-10. 

I play all three of my own colleges and all of my students are living “at home” in residential lots, so it doesn’t matter which in-game college they attend. So, for undergraduate students, it sometimes requires picking the “wrong” college so that it won’t be a distinguished degree. 

Because I only have one grad school for everyone to attend, I’m not too picky about travel distances being realistic. Many of them are commuters. The med school students need to be residents, but Justin lives in Michigan, and Natty is in Nevada, and Amy is in Washington DC. Considering most of these grad students are in their mid-late twenties, some will be even older, they would have families, jobs, or serious relationships at home. Since this grad school is their only option, I won’t make them spend long times away from their life to go here. They will do most of the semester from home, then commute to campus for a couple of days to take their exams. 

[never-not-ever]

Said I was going to wait til tomorrow (day 3) to type up and post today's "day 2" but I figured I'd get it out of the way and before I start to forget any more.

It's a little after midnight and I need to take my trazodone tonight so I can actually sleep through the night but I also really want to watch some Will & Grace cause I miss those funny idiots.

I already just want to be silent for my team meeting tomorrow. Like there's no point in arguing back and forth. So next best thing, "kill em with kindness" comes to mind but I don't think that fits. My plan is to go into the meeting all "I'm fine, it's fine, everything is fine", "yes" them to death, not say much, seem smiley and chipper. I might even wake up earlyish, shower and make coffee so I "feel my best" which will be a lie but at least my hair will be clean for the first time in days and I'll have some decent coffee which I actually am looking forward to now cause I bought a Torani brown sugar cinnamon syrup. Hmmm tomorrow morning is seeming more promising. Minus the meeting. Which I'm hoping can be quick and done for. Then we'll have the glorious weekend and we'll see how shitty things get and continue the dejavu of Monday morning scaries for team meetings lmao

Also there's supposedly pet therapy tomorrow????? Which I complained about the lack of for 10 months to the nursing director guy and he'd talk about his dog and how he'd being them but they weren't always that friendly.

I remember 8 years ago this unit had a huge pet therapy program. There were two pomeranians, a huge black fluffy dog and a cat named Tuna! I loved that name.

I think I'm going to go on the walk tomorrow at 2 and get more soda at the cafe since I ordered the wrong one with my groceries. Like I want tomorrow to be as smooth and seemingly fine as possible.

My fav nurse who went to nights came in earlier and didn't say hi and of course I took it to heart (is that the phrase)?. So when I took my meds just now I was like "you didn't say hi earlier" and she said she was in her head. Then we chatted a little bit while she got my meds and that was that.

I thought I was going to be able to go to my room right now and watch Will & Grace but my god I'm about to pass out. Like I was already feeling a little sleepy and now this is just speeding it up. I'm sure to sleep through the night cause I haven't taken it in a while and it always hits me harder the first time I start it up again.

Ending this now before I type up another essay. One could say this is already one.

[roadtogracelandx45]

Courage Under Fire| Pre-War Part 10| Band of Brothers

masterlist

part 9

ao3

wattpad

@marycorleone

word count-3,909

The next chapter we are finally getting into the good stuff. And I am o excited for it.

Pre-War part 10

June- August 1942 

─

Columbia, Georgia 

Dick Winters rarely left Fort Benning on weekend passes, like Lewis and the others who went out on most passes to Columbia. A  lot of the time Olivia Stewart, the now head nurse, went with them, mostly to keep them in line. 

And them being Lewis Nixon, the man who occupied his mind more and more of his mind, he didn’t quite understand why he was feeling this pull to this man but he was and he figured he might as well go with them this time around so Olivia could enjoy her promotion without having to babysit Lewis or the others. 

“Holy crow.’ Olivia’s voice shook him out of his thoughts, she had walked up behind him and offered him a smile, “Is Dick Winters actually joining us for a night out?”

 “I figured that you needed a night off of wrangling Nix to enjoy yourself and your promotion.” He returned, his eyes crinkling at the corners when her face lit up. She had tried to play it off the night before he and Lewis caught up to her after dinner like it was nothing but it was something big for her.  Especially after she lost her brothers, and had to meet South Carolina’s district attorney about her mother’s case. A meeting he and Lewis had the pleasure of sitting in on. 

 “You have no idea.” she admitted softly, “Amber is driving me up the wall too, she hates that I got the promotion and she didn’t. And if anything else happens. We get the ax and are out of the program.”  He nodded his head, he and Lewis had been there and heard it, and at first, it didn’t stop the others who missed Olivia breaking Amber’s nose from trying to provoke another fight between them.  

Dick and Lewis had been able to break up a lot of the time; it had gotten easier when Hill had dropped out after failing the map reading tests, allowing Olivia to be in the three-man barracks. At first, it had made Dick wildly uncomfortable but he understood.  

“Olivia, how did you get Dick out of his hiding place?” One of the other men asked as he and his buddy passed, they were all heading towards the same place, a rickety bus stop but like always Olivia waited for Lewis to come out of the barracks. 

“Darlin’, I have my ways.” She returned, offering a teasing smile. 

‘Oh, we have heard of your ways sweetheart.” 

“What ways would that be?” Lewis asked joining the two. Over the short 10 weeks they had been there, Lewis had gotten a reputation of being Olivia’s fiercest protector and the other men learned not to mess with her. Dick was steps behind him. 

“She puts out on top of her family name. And that's how she gets ahead.’ 

“Pardon me?” “Repeat that?” Both Dick and Lewis questioned, while the woman in question grabbed a hold of Lewis’s arm to keep him by her. Dick always seemed to keep this cool the best so she didn’t have to worry about him like she did with Lewis.  

“Where did you hear that?”  When the man didn’t answer, Lewis took steps toward him threateningly only to be stopped by both Olivia and Dick. “Let me guess, Amber Scott said something,” Olivia commented.  

Adam, the man, nodded his head causing her to scoff and raise her eyes to the sky as if she was trying to gather strength not to go back and get into it with Amber.  

“That is such bullshit,” Lewis complained as Dick shook his head and muttered something about language under his breath. “If anything, she is the one that is sleeping around.” 

“What?!” Olivia was floored, this was the first she was hearing of this and normally, Lewis told her everything.  

“We will talk about it later, love.” He said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye causing her to frown and cross her arms, “We better.” 

“You can’t blame the rumors can you?” Adam’s friend, Kenneth asked, “Especially after she was moved into your barracks. Amber said that.’ He fell quiet when his eyes fell on Olivia. “What did she say?” He shook his head embarrassed, sex talk was normal between him and the boys but bringing it up in front of the ladies. 

Especially one as classy as Olivia Stewart.

 “Kenneth, what did she say?” Olivia’s question came out a little more firm than she meant but she needed to know.  

On Dick’s urging as well as Harding’s, she had started keeping track of what Amber was doing just in case she had ever proved her innocence. 

“That you were having sex with both of them.”  He finally answered, unable to bring himself to look at any of them. ‘At the same time.” Adam added when he saw the look of confusion on the girl’s face.  

“What? How does that work?” She questioned as Lewis took a step back to her and whispered into her ear what he meant by that.  Her face turned a brilliant shade of red that matched the color of Dick’s hair and it caused him to smirk, the last few nights he had been imagining the three of them together. But he wasn’t going to throw that out there and embarrass the other two. 

Both Dick and Olivia were innocent and pure to the point that corrupting them seemed like a sin. A sin he was willing to go to hell for. 

‘Never mind. I don’t want to know,’ She stammered, raising her hands to cover her burning cheeks.  “I will explain about that later too.”  He whispered before pressing a kiss to her cheek and leading her toward the bus stop where the rickety bus was waiting to take them into town. 

Dick followed behind them shaking his head in disbelief.

**

“Come on Dick,” Olivia said, holding her hand out to him a while later, they were at a local bar that played music and had a space for dancing. “Oh no, Liv.” He started. 

‘Aw, Dick, don’t ruin her fun.” Lewis returned as he sat down heavily in the chair next to him, his hand pulling the bottle of Vat .69 to him, forehead beaded with sweat and his tie loosened, “You are the one that wanted to enjoy herself. And I haven’t seen her smile like that in a long time.” 

 It was true, the smile that she had was the truest, brightest, and happiest smile he had seen since she opened the front door and saw him standing there before her debutante ball. “One dance is all I ask for.” She held up a finger and Dick felt his shoulder slump in defeat, he could understand why Lewis and most other men in her life had a hard time saying no to her. 

 “Fine. One dance.” He agreed, taking her outstretched hand. Thankful that it was a slower song and not one of the fast-paced ones that they had been playing before. 

“Are you sure you are okay with that?” Amber’s snotty voice asked from behind him, her dark eyes were on the two. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He returned swallowing some of the Vat .69, “Olivia and I are just friends. I have no claim on her.”

 He was thankful that Olivia had gone with a brown dress that covered her lower neck and most of her collarbone; he had left marks and bites there the night before when he snuck into her shower. 

 It had been over a month since they had been together and he was going a little stir crazy. Thankfully Dick hadn’t said anything when he came back into the room, his hair still damp from the shower or Olivia wearing her hair down around her shoulders.  

“You know we don’t believe that.” She retorted, “She has you wrapped around her little finger and we all know it.” 

“Miss. Scott mind your own business. You are already on thin ice. One more transgression and you are out of the Army Nursing Corp for good. And your daddy’s gambling debts go unpaid.” 

Amber was stunned, “how did you know about that?’ 

“I have my ways, sweetheart. Spread any more rumors about me and Olivia or her in general and you are going to be very sorry.”   

“Why, why would you do that to me?” 

 “Because you are hurting someone I love. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for that girl.” He tore his eyes away from the two on the dance floor to look at her, a twisted smirk forming on his mouth, “Just be thankful, she doesn’t know about you trying to sleep with me. You think she was upset by you bringing her family into this. I am a whole other story.” 

 “Lew! Come on!’ Olivia’s voice called, pulling his attention back to her and Dick. Dick had succeeded in getting her to agree to go back on the first bus back so she and Lewis could both sleep off whatever hangover they had before their final tests. 

“Comin’ Liv.” He downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass before picking the bottle up and going over to the two. 

“What was that about?” Olivia’s green eyes cut to where Amber was moving her lips silently. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby. I handled it.’  

“I don’t like the sound of that at all.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek before stumbling into the street. 

**

Dick didn’t know how Olivia did this every time they had a pass. He was exhausted by the time he had wrangled both of them on and off of the bus and towards their barracks. Lewis was holding his own being able to walk and do things on his own while Olivia who he hadn’t realized had drank a lot more of Lewis’ Vat .69, after much coaxing from Lewis, was singing Dixieland and twirling herself around in the rain that had started between the time they got onto the bus and the time the bus driver who took pity on Dick and pulled closer to Fort Benning. 

“Good luck.’ The driver had said with a dry laugh. Dick didn’t realize how much he was going to need it until that moment. The laughter coming from Olivia was infectious, Lewis was snickering and mumbling something about wishing he had a video camera, and even Dick wanted to laugh. But until he got them safely to their barracks, he couldn't. 

** 

Lewis pulled her to him once they were in the barracks, Dick saying something about going down to the water spout and getting them water for the rest of the night. “Lew? What are you doing? Dick is going to be back soon.” 

“So?” He returned, his fingers working on undoing the buttons of her dress.

 “So I thought we decided it was best that no one knows about us.” Her fingers caught his belt and pulled him closer to her. His cock was already starting to harden and press against the trousers 

“Dick isn't just anyone.”  He muttered as his free hand fisted into the material of the dress before lowering his mouth onto hers. 

Kissing her breathless. He knew that she would question him and try and understand but at that moment, all he wanted and needed was her. 

“Make it quick then.” her voice was faint and there was a pink blush covering her cheeks. He smirked against her mouth and backed them towards the chair that Olivia used, he wanted to be quick about it but at the same time, the thought of Dick catching them thrilled him almost as much as doing the actual deed did. 

This was the first time they had done anything that wasn't from the side or him being on top of her and she was unsure what to do. Sensing her uneasiness Lewis wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled onto his lap. She whimpered, feeling his cock pressing against her panty-clad center. His free hand started undoing the buttons of her dress so he could slip his hand inside and touch and squeeze her breast. 

“Lew.” she whimpered as he used the hand holding onto her waist to rock against him.

** 

Dick moved Olivia’s canteen into his arm so he could pull open the door to the barracks and froze when he saw the position they were in through the window.  Yes, he hadn't been completely blind to what they did under his nose, one night when he came back from guard duty, she was in Lewis’ bed cuddled into him.

He just chalked it up to her having repeated nightmares from losing James and Nicholas and he knew the night before when Lewis had wandered off and ended up in the shower with her.  A part of him, deep down, was jealous. Not of Olivia. 

No. 

She was a very beautiful young woman. 

It was because she was with Lewis.  

Startled at the realization, he took a step back and took a breath before pulling the door open and letting it bang against the wall. 

‘Son of a bitch.” Olivia exclaimed, going to pull the top of her dress back together and stand up at the same time but Lewis who pulled her tight against him again rolling his hips into hers. 

“Lew, stop.” She whimpered, dropping her forehead onto his shoulder. She could feel the burn of Dick's eyes on them as the man himself neared their beds and dropped the canteens on the end of her bed. Sue glanced at Lewis and saw that his eyes were on Dick.

  “Lew, let me up. I'm sure he isn't going to faint dead away at the site of your,”

 “Cock.” Lewis filled in smirking at first the blush that covered Olivia's cheeks then at the scowl on Dick's face. 

He winced when she pinched his nipple, “Behave Lewis. I meant your lap. ”  He pressed a kiss to her mouth and let her off of his lap. 

“I am, um gonna clean up.” She swayed a bit and steadied herself just as Dick was reaching out for her. 

“I am good, I am good.” She assured him, “Take care of him.” 

 “Always.” As soon as the word left his mouth, he regretted it. “I know.” She returned as she gathered her items to go to clean up and get ready for bed, she paused next to him and pressed a kiss against his cheek. 

 “You are so lucky that it was me that came in and not Harding or Sanders.”  Still smirking, Lewis stood up and straightened his pants out, “Harding was more drunk than we are, and Sanders is probably face down in some dame’s chest right about now. Don’t worry so much Dick.” 

**

 Camp Meade, Maryland

**

“Welcome to Camp Meade, Ladies,” Olivia said almost 3 weeks later, Alice, Betsy, and Amber had graduated OCS and left Benning on the second of July and were sent right from there to Maryland. Spending the Fourth of July with Olivia’s uncle Micheal and Aunt Helen in DC for a short break before going back to the camp. “I am First Lieutenant Olivia Stewart.” Her green eyes flicked over the girls who were standing in front of her as she walked down the length of the mess hall, “And sadly, for the next few weeks, I am going to be your worst nightmare. ” She paused when she saw Evie standing at the end of the row, she turned on her heel and went back down the row, the anger and hurt she had felt toward Evie resurfaced, her eyes caught Alice’s and she raised her eyebrow in question. 

“I, along with Sargents Anderson, Michaels, and Scott, were informed before we came here from Benning that they are going to be training us to go into active war areas.”  “What?” “She can’t be serious.” Floated around the room. “Sadly, I am very serious. Our training was going to take a lot longer but this is going to be accelerated and it is going to be stressful.” She licked her lips and put her hands on her hips, “Most of us will be shipped to Pearl Harbor and from there to other military hospitals near or in the active war zone.’  

She hated that she had to be the one to say that but to them, she had been tapped at Micheal’s house and told that she had to be the leader. 

“Some of us will go to other camps that are doing basic training and will be attached to the battalion if not companies and we will follow them to wherever they go either it be Europe, Africa, Australia, or New Zealand. I don’t want to be that person, but this is what we signed up for. If you are too afraid and this isn’t what you think we should be doing, then there's the door. No one will hold it against you if you do.” 

Amber, who had been silent since they had left Meade and Lewis’ threat, swallowed back the laughter that was bubbling up. There would be so much judgment. The three girls had become a little clique and left her out of things. She had wanted it that way, but she wouldn’t be remiss to say that she hated that she was missing out.  After meeting Michael Stewart and his younger sister Careen, she understood where Liv got her charm from and she shouldn't really fault her for it but at the same time, she still hated her. 

When no one made to move towards the door, Olivia wetted her hips, “We are going to break you into groups, half will be with me, and the other half will be with Lieutenant Jameson.” The other Lieutenant was an older woman from Boston and scared the bejesus out of the 4 girls that had been there since the 5th. 

Evie was surprised when her name was called to join Olivia’s group and how her friend pointedly ignored her and called several girls that included Lily, Louise, Daisy, Adele, and Ruthie, among others. Maybe this was her chance to get her friend back, she hated how lonely the neighborhood had been since Olivia left again and how out of control and moody both Bobby and Bill got. Shortly after they had graduated, the two boys got into a fight with a couple of the others and were arrested shortly afterwards.  

“Olivia, can I talk to you?” She asked once they were dismissed to go to their barracks. 

“It’s Lieutenant and no you can’t.’ Olvia returned icily as she motioned for Daisy, Adele, and Ruthie to follow her. 

“You are Evie right?” Betsy asked from behind her, curious. One night out, Olivia told her the whole story about how she ended up in Charleston again to take care of her great great grandfather, how she and Bill broke up because he cheated on her with Evie, how it broke her heart, and how it led to her ending up with Lewis. At first, when she heard the pieced-together version of the story from Lewis, she had put a lot of fault on Olivia, but then hearing it she understood, she would have reacted the same way if it happened to her. 

Once Evie nodded her head, Betsy carried on, “I would give her time, she is extremely hurt with everything that has gone on with you and Bill and is struggling with Nicholas and James’s deaths and her mother’s arrest. She may come around, she may not, but that is something you deserve. No friend should ever sleep with their friend’s boyfriend. No matter the reasoning.” 

Evie looked down at the ground, upset, she knew that Betsy was right and she should have known better that Olivia would magically forgive her now that they were together at the same camp.  But the good thing was that she had time to get on her good side. 

**

“Lieutenant wasn’t joking when she said that this was going to be hard.” Adele Stevens complained as she sat down at one of the benches in the mess hall, they had been in Meade for almost 2 weeks and they had proceeded to push all this information into their heads and showed them how to do dressings and treat wounds on top of the basic physical training in the field. That was on top of the administrative, organization, sanitation, and ward and clinical nursing. 

It was exhausting. But it was so rewarding.  “No, she wasn't.” Daisy Goodwin agreed as she covered her yawn with her hand before looking down the table at Olivia who had her chin propped up on her hand, her eyes closed, for the last few nights, she had nightmares every few hours. 

The night before Daisy had woken up and seen that she was sitting up in her bed, knee pulled to her chest staring out of the window in an almost unsettling manner. A runner stopped by the end of the table where Olivia was at and whispered something to her. There was almost a look of panic that crossed her face before the mask went back into place. 

“I wonder what that is about.”

*** 

General Forbes's office 

** 

“General?  You wanted to see me? “ Olivia asked, sticking her head into the office. “Yes, Olivia, come in.’ “No one else died right?’  Elizabeth looked up and offered her a soft smile, "Oh no, no, I needed to talk to you about where you are going next, with the group you have been working with.” Olivia pulled a face at the thought of having to keep working with Amber Scott. There were several moments where they had been toe to toe yelling at each other. 

The General swallowed the laughter that bubbled up, Finn had said repeatedly that Robert was the twin most like him but the more she got to know Olivia the more she saw Finn. The eye roll and inaudible scoff and the curse that normally followed was a big case and point. “We are going to send you and your girls to Camp Toccoa to the paratroopers.’ 

“The what?” 

“The paratroopers. They jump  out of planes with their full gear to fight.”  

If her fear of planes and flying was starting to kick in, Forbes couldn't tell, and she was glad it wasn't because these girls were going to need her, and the boys including her twin brother who was going to be there were going to need it and Olivia needed it. The added surprise of her seeing Bobby was a bonus. 

“You are going to leave in two days' time.” “Yes ma'am.” she said, “I will go tell the girls. Thank you.”  Forbes nodded her head returning the salute.

** 

The girls were still sitting at the table when Olivia came back into the mess hall. “Alright ladies.” she started after taking the pre-offered coffee cup, “General Forbes told me we are to Camp Toccoa and join the paratroopers in training in two days' time.” “Does that mean we are going with them when they ship out?” Lily, one of the nurses, who was deathly shy and had been taken under Olivia and the other's wings. “Yes, but Lil, we will be together and I will make sure we stay together for as long as possible.”