#London Trauma Conference

[stemlyns]

The St Emlyn’s Podcast explores hyperbaric medicine with Dr. Jeff Kerrie. Learn how hyperbaric oxygen therapy (HBOT) treats decompression illness, carbon monoxide poisoning, radiation injuries, and necrotizing infections.

[reidrum]

darwinism

A/N: being really brave and posting this bc i wasn’t sure about it but i hope u like it! a reminder to show love to ur favorite writers/creators :) scheduling this post while im omw to halsey’s opening show tonight BUT we hit 3k and that’s so insane to me that people want to read my silly little stories thank you thank you thank you

summary: the you that broke up with spencer to follow your dreams in london isn’t the same you that returns a year later

cw: spoiler content warning at the end of this post! angst, hurt/comfort, bau!reader, ex!spencer, implications of past trauma, descriptions of torture, medical jargon, cm typical violence, throwing up, spencer is kinda mean but he loves you i promise

wc: 6k

The familiarity strikes you like a knife as you walk through the doors of the BAU. Over a year since you’ve been here and it seems nothing has changed—Hotch still surveills from his office atop the landing, Emily and Derek sit opposite each other. Even your desk has remained untouched and the way you left it, still next to the desk you’d begged to be next to.

A year since you left it all behind in pursuit of furthering your career, a shiny new position across the pond at Interpol. A year since you left behind the only family you had in D.C., the BAU. A year since you left Spencer, the love of your life.

Before you left, Spencer thought everything was going great between you both. You seemed happy, content with his company and love. Falling in love with a colleague, especially in his line of work, has its risks but he’s found that having you will always outweigh any consequence or worst scenario his mind can think of.

Spencer would never tell you they actually offered the job to him first, but he turned it down so he could stay with you. He still remembers the fight you had the night before you left, how he couldn’t understand why you would risk throwing away what you had. You knew he never would, with his multiple degrees and high caliber of success he didn’t need that extra validation. To be a mere mortal in the presence of such excellence is humbling and harrowing.

So you left.

You love him, you really did—still do. Nothing about where you were in the world would ever change that. Making the decision to leave was the hardest but you knew it would be better for your career. Spencer might never comprehend how easily you made that decision to take the job in London when it seemed like the hardest thing for him. How could he, when everything he encountered with his Midas’ touch of knowledge only served to expand his beautiful brain. When you left and parted ways, it was for good.

The thing is though, you’re back.

No one actually knew you were coming back until a week ago, when Hotch announced your return to the team as soon as you landed. The job offer was a permanent one and the details are unclear as to why you did come back so early. Bunch of sealed, redacted documents. All Spencer knows is that you are home and back here with him. Maybe not with him, but you were here and that counts for something. 

The desk next to yours is empty but clearly occupied, the satchel slouched over on the ground with a cardigan haphazardly thrown over the back of the chair. You walk up to yours and see it practically untouched, up kept even. You sling your bag off the shoulder and take inventory of your desk, your name plate and tchotchkes aligned. 

You don’t hear the footsteps coming up behind you.

“Hey.”

You still at the voice and turn slowly, “Hi, Spencer.”

He takes a good look at you, the first one he’s gotten to have of you in over a year. You look the same more or less. Your hair is longer, you’ve lost weight, you stopped wearing makeup. There’s something else surrounding you unspoken, he can’t place his finger on it.

“It’s um, it’s good to see you.” he nods awkwardly, trying not to cringe inwardly as he attempts normality.

“Likewise.” you hum.

Hotch calls your name from the landing, “Welcome back. I need everyone in the conference room in two minutes.”

You both nod, each secretly glad your interaction was cut short. 

Derek rounds your desk and opens his arms, “Good to see you, pretty girl. It’s been too quiet without you.” You try not to let your heart squeeze over the term of endearment, a stem of his nickname for Spencer coined specially for you after Derek had figured you both out.

You squeeze him back, “Missed you too, Morgan.” 

Emily loops her arm through yours as you pull back from Derek, slowly starting the walk up to the conference room. “How was London? Was the apartment okay?” Former Interpol agent perks, Emily had her own flat in London she so graciously lent to you.

“All good, Em,” you say softly, slowly trudging up the steps, “I’ll show you pictures later.”

Emily continues talking as you both get further out of earshot from Spencer, whose eyes follow until you disappear into the room. There really is something different about you that he can’t quite figure out yet, no way of even proving that something is wrong–just a sheer feeling of knowing you from the way you’ve imprinted on him. He decides it’s probably just jet lag.

“You alright, kid?” Derek nudges him, “Must be a lot for you,”

He forgot he was even still down here, “Yeah, fine. We should go,”

—

The first time Spencer noticed he didn’t think anything of it.

It’s paperwork week after a long few weeks of traveling, to everyone’s delight. In desperate need for caffeination you grab your mug from your desk and trudge to the break room to make yourself a coffee. You place a pod into the slot and press start, the machine whirring to life as it prepares to brew your lifesaving coffee. 

You’re about to bend down to the cupboard under the table when you hear footsteps. 

Spencer slows as he walks in, not wanting to startle you, “We moved the sugar by the way, it’s above the sink now.”

“Oh, thanks.” you mumble. You reach a hand up to open the cupboard, hiding a wince as you stretch up.

He clocks the change in your face immediately, “Are you okay?”

Your eyes widen as you come back down and school your face back to normal, “Yeah, why?”

“You look like you’re in pain. Did you get hurt or something?” he prods, eyes looking questionably between your face and your waist. Your shirt raises slightly and he can see the tail end of what looks like a nasty scar. He attempts to walk closer but with hypervigilance on your side and great timing by the coffee machine you grab your coffee and side step him towards the door.

“Oh did I? Must’ve stretched weird this morning.” you say from the door.

“You stretch now?” he humorlessly chuckles.

“It’s important to stay limber,” Your hand subconsciously rests over your abdomen, unnaturally to the side as if you’re covering something. “Got to go, bye.”

He watches you duck out of the room, “Um, bye?”

Weird, he thinks. You didn’t even end up taking the sugar, the evidence of it still scattered on the counter. You were so quick to leave but Spencer lets himself entertain the idea that you wanted to leave so fast not to get away from him, but because he noticed a crack in your facade.

He tries to school his own face back to normal as he returns to his desk and drops two sugar packets on yours.

–

The second time he notices, it nearly breaks his heart.

It’s a hot day in the Houston precinct where you and Spencer tackle the geographical profile while the rest of the team works out the victim’s details and witnesses. It was a no brainer to pair you two together, you’d been doing geographical profiles since way before you ever got together. It’s how you both fell in love, actually. Countless hours hunched over a map, late night conversations getting weirdly philosophical, something about the way you worked together just clicked. Like you completed something he didn’t know he didn’t have, something he didn’t know he craved so subconsciously.

You made sense to him, you always do.

Things are little different post your breakup, your skill sets are still above par for crafting the geographical profile, and therefore it only served to make sense to pair you both again. He knows it’s for the better, you’ll always make sense to him—even in times like this.

You’re more defensive than he remembers, more meticulous and stubborn than his darling girl who left him. You were always stubborn, but here you were finding faults in everything. The attack sites are too scattered for an accurate comfort zone, you’d argue. The victimology doesn’t add up, you’d jab.

Since you left Spencer’s patience has diminished dramatically, even for you now as he’s about to discover. Normally he’d welcome your counterpoints with respectful criticism and counters while you both talk it out. But right now you’re arguing like you simply want to be right, like you need to be right.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Spencer sighs, “The unsub clearly is frequenting these places for a reason, and it matches the victimology perfectly. How can you not see it?”

“It doesn’t add up!” you jab, “He’s kidnapping high risk victims in a high risk environment, that goes against what we think he’s even killing for.”

His voice raises, “What he’s killing for doesn’t even matter if we can’t predict where he’s going to strike next! The next body could surface tonight, we don’t have time to be childish like this.”

“Childish? Suddenly my analysis is childish? Fuck you, Spencer.”

“Okay, look I didn’t mean—“ He reaches his hand above your figure to grab the marker atop the white board.

A normal motion for him.

But you flinch, hard.

Spencer rarely if ever yelled at you when you were together, he certainly and definitively would never lay his hands on you. Any argument you had with him was resolved civilly, safely. Even when you get disciplined at work by Hotch or Strauss they go easy on you, a stern warning and a passing Be Better.

What you did now is stitched from his nightmares. The sharp yelp you let out will ring in his ears for who knows how long. He can’t figure it out, he’s not sure if he wants to. You’re part of a team of profilers, trained to analyze micro expressions and behaviors to predict what happened. Spencer knows what it means for the way you reacted, his training clearly outlines it.

Previous trauma suffered. Reflex response. Learned.

Wherever you learned that response, it cannot be from him—it’s impossible. It’s offensive. It makes him sick to even think it could come from him, even sicker to think about where it did come from. This wasn’t you, not the you that Spencer knew and loved. 

Yet you flinched, and to his horror you’re now shaking.

He says your name like broken glass, “I…I wasn’t going to hurt you. You’re shaking, I…” He tries to move closer again, like he did in the break room, and instead of ducking out you back up and bump into the whiteboard, startling yourself further.

“N—Nothing, I’m fine. It’s fine. I…need to go get some air.” you stutter, the jitters clearly consuming you.

You run out of the precinct before he can say anything else, evading Emily’s calls and JJ’s brush of your arm as you leave.

Spencer lingers on the ghost of your figure as it haunts the door, and turns to the rest of the team sporting matching confusion. “You all saw that right?”

Morgan nods slowly, “Something’s up with her.”

“I know,” he rasps, “I’ve never seen her look so scared.” The look on your face will surely haunt him every time he blinks.

JJ speaks, “Do you think something happened in London?”

It had to, Spencer thinks. You were not like this before you left. Not skittish, not hypervigilant of your surroundings—fearing a familiar hand. 

The team looks to Hotch, knowing if someone knew it would be him. “Her records are sealed,” he mumbles, feigning professionalism yet unable to hide his concern for you, “Interpol informed me it was a need to know basis, and we were not cleared for that.”

“But she’s not okay, Hotch.” Spencer protests.

Hotch gives him a stern look, but his eyes soften in understanding, “I know, we can figure this out when we get back. For now, let her cool off and let’s focus on the case.”

Everyone exchanges uneasy looks and begrudgingly returns to their tasks.

When you return the team offers you the grace of pretending what happened didn’t even exist. You’re inwardly grateful, you know it doesn’t show on the outside. Spencer keeps an eye on you but maintains his distance lest you get triggered at his hands again. He wouldn’t survive watching you react to him so viscerally, in a way that couldn’t be further from the love he showered you in.

It’s in this moment Spencer realizes he misses you. When you left he obviously missed you, but in a way in which he knew you would return home eventually. You broke his heart by leaving, but he knew you would come back to the BAU, where you belonged. A you he honestly believes he took for granted, because it looks like that you didn’t make it home to him. Right now, he’s missing that you. The you before London. 

—

The third time he realizes, he acts on his own–you didn’t even have to do anything.

He knows something happened in London. He just can’t figure out what it is, but he’s going to.

Spencer should feel bad asking Penelope to hack into your medical records. He can’t find himself to actually care though after seeing that stab wound on your hip, and how quick you were to brush it off like it was nothing. It was massive, and by the position of it had to have required some medical intervention. When he got shot in the knee all they needed to do was stabilize his leg from the outside with a brace, yours looked dangerously close to a lung.

“Is there a reason we’re violating her privacy like this? She’s my friend, I feel icky.”

“Garcia, please.” his tone holding something deeper.

She glances at him and returns back to typing, breaking down the many firewalls of the bureau medical records.

“And…done.” a flurry of documents floods her screens, Spencer leans in closer to read them but she whispers under her breath, “Oh my god, my sweet girl.”

“What is it?”

Garcia pulls up your medical record from London, and makes the sheet bigger. The glaring title reading Emergency Room Admit. He reads the preliminary injuries of stab wounds, bruises, mild concussion.

Emergency services were called to a warehouse where you were unconscious and bleeding out. You still weren’t conscious when you were admitted, and they had to resuscitate you after you’d coded in the ambulance en route. They took you to emergency surgery, your broken ribs causing major arterial damage in your abdomen. Line after line listed another injury, another note where they performed a life saving measure on you. He couldn’t believe it, how had all of this happened and no one knew about it? How he didn’t know about it?

“She was attacked.” he mumbles in disbelief, poison hanging on the tip of his words.

Penelope says through watery tears, “How could they not tell us? This says it was nearly nine months ago.”

“I don’t know,” he breathes out shakily, “but something still feels off.”

Everything he was thinking and felt becomes obsolete as he scrolls further down to see a note that takes the final blow for him.

Miscarriage due to sustained injuries. Pt suffered stab wounds to the lower left quadrant of the abdomen, fetus not viable upon admission.

No.

No, that can’t be right.

The nausea builds in the back of his throat as he processes. He looks at the dates of the report again and anxiously does the math in his head. If your assault happened only three months after you left then—No.

All the questions begin to swirl in Spencer’s mind. Did you know you were pregnant? You didn’t tell anyone it seems, and then you chose to still stay in london for another nine months even after the incident. It made no sense, an event as traumatic as what he read you went through should have sent you right back home. Right back to him.

The nausea catches up to him and takes over his body, hurling into the nearest trash can he can find. Penelope, through sniffled sobs, attempts to rub her friend’s back as soothingly as she can. 

He wipes his mouth, “I need to talk to her. Is she still at the same address?”

“Spencer, I don’t think—“

“I don’t care what you think, Garcia. Tell me where she is.” he snaps.

Penelope widens her eyes in shock at his outburst, knowing she can’t blame him for how he’s reacting. “Y—Yeah, same address.”

He speeds out of the room, stopping by the bathroom to rinse his mouth and splash water on his face. His hands rub harshly down the sides of his face as he stares at himself in the mirror. All the color is drained from his face, nowhere in sight of returning. He doesn’t know what to feel–let alone what to think. He’s angry, hurt, confused. He’s not expecting to feel scared, yet he’s not sure what he’s scared of.

In Spencer’s life his role has always been the protector, the parentified child that had to grow up too fast to care for their sick mother. He wouldn’t have it any other way, some help would have been nice, but his 187 IQ served him better than others would in his position. Perfection, as his mother fondly called him. All he’s ever known is to protect, joining the FBI helps him continue to actualize this ability he’s honed. Meeting you gave him purpose to protect–a conscious choice he could make that wasn’t a result of his circumstance. A choice to protect you, because he loves you.

Yet his choice to let you go, to not follow you, has led him to face this awful consequence at the cost of your safety. Right now, he feels like anything but a protector.

Spencer gets in his car and drives to your apartment complex, parking in the same vacant spot he always did when he came over each time. He climbs the stairs fast and knocks harshly on your door, hearing you shuffle a minute later and opening it. “Spencer? What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.” he says urgently, moving past you to get inside.

You furrow your brows at his intrusion and mumble, moving aside passively, “No please, come in.”

You lock the door and walk towards your living room, where Spencer is pacing back and forth running his hand stressfully through his hair. He makes no effort to speak first, still in his head about everything.

“So, are you going to tell me why you showed up here?”

“I know what happened.”

You tilt your head, “What do you mean?”

“In London. I know what happened to you.”

Your face drops instantly and suddenly the world stops. All your windows are closed but a sharp and brisk chill runs up your spine, goosebumps erupting all over you as a pathetic defense against what feels like a vocal attack. Trapped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say under your breath.

He stops pacing and faces you, “No?” he steps closer, “That’s why all your medical records are sealed shut?”

“You looked at my medical records?”

“I had to, you weren’t telling me anything.”

“Maybe because I didn’t want you to know.” you yell, “Those are private documents.”

“I don’t know how I didn’t notice it at first—you were in pain reaching for the sugar in the cupboard, suddenly you don’t wear anything shorter than pants and a long sleeve. The big scar on your torso.”

“That doesn’t mean anything—“

“You flinched. The other day.”

You falter, “What?”

“We all pretended it didn’t happen when you came back, but you know what happened. I raised my hand for something and you flinched.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” you repeat less convincing this time.

He steps closer, trying to hide his hurt when you take a step back as well, “I think you know exactly what it means, and it scares you that I know now too.”

“You’re not supposed to know.”

“Why not?”

“Because no one’s supposed to know! I had them sealed for a reason.”

“So you were just not going to tell any of us you were attacked?”

Your face contorts, “I had to do what was safe for me. You may not understand my choices but I was counseled into believing this was the best option for me.”

“Counseled,” he laughs humorlessly, stepping towards you and staring you down, “Did this counsel inform you that notifying the father of your miscarriage wasn’t necessary?”

The bile rises in your throat, the room unhinges upon its axis as it begins to spin. “N—No, that’s not—“

“Did you tell anyone?” another step, “Were you ever going to tell me it was mine?”

“Spencer you don’t understand.”

He flails his arms in anger, “No, I fucking don’t! First you leave me behind like I meant nothing to you, but then you were pregnant with my child. You didn’t even care to tell me! I wanted a life with you, I loved you. And you just left.”

You stare at him in silence, unable to think of anything to say.

“How could you not tell me?” he whispers brokenly, “I thought you trusted me.”

“I couldn’t tell you, you have to know that.”

“You couldn’t or you wouldn’t?” he pricks.

The tears well up in your eyes, “That’s not fair.”

“No? You don’t think so?” He knows he’s being mean, he can’t help it—he was supposed to protect you, even if you wouldn’t let him. His guilt is rearing its head in an ugly manner. “Was the baby even mine? Or is there something else you’re also not telling me?”

The hurt splays on your face clear as day, “Why are you being like this?” you mumble.

“I just want answers,” he exasperates, carding a stressed hand through his hair, “I want to know why you felt like you couldn’t tell me, or any of us, that you almost died nine months ago and kept living in London until now.”

Your mouth is entirely dried up, your eyes burning deeply. How long you’d been running and carrying this weight alone on your shoulders starts to reveal itself when your exhaustion finally catches up to you, begging you to wave the white flag and surrender.

You take a deep and shaky breath, “My records were sealed because it was an Interpol agent that attacked me.”

Spencer is stunned into silence. Interpol agent? 

Someone turned on the bureau—turned on you, and decided you would be the scapegoat for the brass’ wrongdoings. Someone you trusted laid their hands on you, and caused you such irreparable damage you felt compelled to carry it alone if the agencies had anything to do with it.

He’s nearly shaking with anger, “We need to report it.”

“I can’t.”

“He hurt you!”, he looks at you with disbelief, “We have to make sure they’re held responsible for it.”

“Spencer,”

“I don’t know why you’re so against it, you should know how important it is to make sure people like him don’t get away with this—“

“Spencer,” you plead.

He stops, finally meeting your eyes and faltering when he sees the tears welling and red rims forming. He takes a sharp breath, “You did report it…didn’t you?”

You can’t help the way your face drops, “I did, yeah.”

Spencer couldn’t believe it. Actually he could, he knows very well the statistics of women getting justice for assault crimes against them and how the odds are rarely stacked in their favor. Still, he feels appalled to think that the same system that he works to uphold—the same one you work for—has failed you so terribly.

If you reported it, then that means you knew your attacker.

“They didn’t know Mark was working both sides until he took me.” you whisper shakily.

Mark, the one who’d been your mentor when you were offered the job. Spencer remembers conversing with him when he was still in talks for the job too,

Spencer knows it should’ve been him instead of you. If he had just taken the job, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. If he didn’t love you as much as he did to not leave you, maybe you’d be here—safe—while he worried about you from over there. The light that guides him home every night would still be shining in your eyes, and he wouldn’t be stranded in the middle of the dark ocean wondering what you would look like with the swell of his child.

How you looked, with the swell of his child.

At first Spencer is angry—at himself, at you, at the bureau for letting this happen. Then he’s just sad, over what could’ve been, what might be. Spencer would always joke that your stubbornness would lead to your downfall if he couldn’t help it. But you shut him out entirely, left him in the dark wondering if you even still loved him. Repetitively thinking about how easy it was for you to leave him alone back in Quantico. You were always too independent for your own good. It’s then another cold guttural realization stuns him—you were all alone when this happened.

“Oh, angel.” his voice cracks.

At this point, you’re just trying hard to keep it together. You weren’t expecting to have to reopen this wound again, although you should be considered a fool for thinking you could hide it from the very person you sealed it up for. You’re stubborn to a fault, constantly desperate for complete and total control over your life. Paining yourself is a valiant effort you invoke to protect others from the torturous reality you’ve spun for yourself. It seemed like the best option.

After all, a self inflicted wound is enough control for you–if you’ve already hurt yourself another cut can’t cause worse damage. Most people would show mercy at some point, not willing to cross the lines of depravity to wound you so badly. 

But you? Crossing the line leads you right back to yourself, a circle even. Boundless to the restraints of humanity and unfiltered to the consequences of shame and guilt. 

It’s why not telling Spencer was doable. Keeping it from him hurt you more than anyone could ever begin to comprehend. 

If nothing in this world can be created or destroyed then the pain you feel must be arbitrary, a remanifestation of your own being returning back to where it came from. Angry to be disturbed in the first place, entitled to return home.

Everything will always go back to the way it was. 

Even Spencer. 

Even you.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you,” you sniffle, sitting down on the couch “I really wanted to.”

“So why didn’t you?”

You whisper, “I was so embarrassed.”

He dares to step closer, “Why embarrassed?”

“I—I know they offered you the position before me,” his eyes widen as you continue, “I was so mad at you at first because you didn’t tell me, and then I realized why you didn’t take it and I felt so shitty about it. But I needed it, you know? It was supposed to be good for my career! I don’t have fancy degrees and publications and the reputation you have. You know how hard I’ve worked to get to this point? But I kept feeling like I couldn’t measure up, wouldn’t measure up no matter how hard I tried.”

“Measure up to what, baby?”

“You!” you wail, “I wanted to prove that I could do it, on my own.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me or anyone. You never did, you know that.” he says tearfully, finally taking a spot next to you.

You sniffle, “Well, I didn’t think I could. I felt so out of my element when I got there, Spence. But then Mark started watching me, helping me out where he could. He told me he saw potential in me, and made himself my mentor while I was there.”

His blood boils at the mention of Mark but lets you continue. “I…I trusted him. He said he wanted to help me, that he understood what it was like coming fresh from the States.”

“But then,” your face crumples, Spencer’s hands itch at his side to reach out for you, “I was walking to my car one night. I stayed late, because I was finishing a case study. Next thing I knew, there was a bag over my head and I couldn’t breathe.”

Spencer subconsciously inches closer, his hand ghosting the expanse of your body. “Then what happened?”

“When I woke up I was in a warehouse, they tied my hands to the chair I was sitting in. And I waited for someone to come in. Then I saw Mark.” you whisper.

His hand moves to bravely rests on yours, knowing you need all the courage you can get right now. “Was Mark the one who hurt you?”

You nod erratically, “He thought I knew something about the Silk Road, that trafficking network.”

Spencer remembers investigating the Silk Road affairs, they were slowly but surely getting every single person involved in it. You were a big help when you were here, able to pinpoint when and where these people might be hiding.

“I was telling him the truth, there wasn’t anything I knew about active Silk Road members,” you strain, “He didn’t believe me, and it wasn’t what he wanted from me anyway.”

His other hand rests on the couch ledge behind you, “What did he want, baby?”

You let out a soft whine, “I had a contact in London who knew the password to the Silk Road database. I met with him before my first day, and he told me.”

His fingers ghost your shoulder and you don’t move to his relief, letting his touch be more intentional. “But Mark knew you met him.”

You nod, “He knew I knew the password. That’s what he wanted. I—I wouldn’t give it to him, it was too dangerous to let him have it.” A sob breaks through your voice, “Everytime I said no, he’d hurt me.”

You gently pull your shirt up to reveal the scar he saw in the break room that day, but you pull it further up to reveal a few more scars and bruising that still hadn’t faded.

His breath catches like a fish on a hook. “Oh my god,” Each scar is meticulously placed, intentional. The scars have mostly healed, but the remnants of the marks are so expansive it physically pains him to think about what you suffered when they were inflicted. This wasn’t supposed to happen to you.

The guilt settles in him like a rock when he thinks about how strong you had to be to survive this. All alone in a new country with no one you could trust anymore. You’ve always been a different breed of strength, something he marveled at about you. But you’re still in the fight or flight mode of standing strong in your surroundings. A prey who knows the predator routine all too well, knowing the second you falter is when they strike.

He tucks your head into the crevice of his neck—you don’t need to be strong anymore, he’s here now.

“It looks worse than it feels, I swear.” you tug your shirt back down, “I really didn’t know I was pregnant until I woke up in the hospital, Spencer. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey no,” he shushes, closing the distance between you to gather you in his arms, “don’t even think about that okay, I’m not mad.”

“I should’ve told you.” you cry.

“I know why you didn’t, it’s okay. You were just trying to protect yourself.” Spencer hushes, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” you lament, “I shut you out.”

His hand gently runs up and down your spine, “I’m not mad at you, angel.”

“You should be.”

Another question burns his tongue, “Why didn’t you come home?”

“I wanted to, but…when I tried to report it they acted like they already knew. And I told them what happened to me, what he did, and all they said was that they’d look into it. I saw him at work the next day. I transferred to a different building the day after.” you recount, “I think there’s more Interpol agents working both sides, Spencer.”

“Does Mark still work there?”

“Yeah, I think so…What are you doing?”

He grabs his phone and opens his message thread with Penelope, drafting a text about calling the team and booking flights, “I’m telling Garcia to find flights to London.”

Your eyes widen, “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m going to kill him.”

“Spencer,” you chide.

“And once the rest of the team finds out what happened I’m sure they’ll be on board with it too.”

“Please don’t do anything. I don’t want to cause any more trouble. It was nearly a year ago now, it’s okay. ” you mutter.

He pauses typing and sets his phone back down, scooching back to you and holding your face to his, unable to break eye contact with him, “No it’s not,” he says sternly, “what happened to you was not okay. Do you understand?”

“But–”

“No. You can’t do that. You won’t. This isn’t some sort of inconvenience we move past. You were taken advantage of, and someone hurt you. You did not deserve that at all.”

You pause and look at him, the tears spilling over down your cheeks. You’d spent the last year in solitude convincing yourself that it was all your fault. Your ambition was too strong, you were too eager, you should’ve been tougher. You lived a truth in which you were the problem. Spencer wasn’t there to remind you otherwise, but he’s ready to spend forever making up for lost time. “I…I didn’t deserve that.”

His eyes soften and his thumbs move under your eyes, swiping gently, “No, you didn’t.” A few more quiet sobs leave you, “So why did it happen to me?” you ask meekly.

“I don’t know, angel. I really don’t.” he smooths your hair back, “I’m going to make it better, though. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

You nod and hug him tighter, letting a few more tears fall and stain his shirt. “I should be the one to tell the team, I know they’re probably wondering too.”

“They were really worried about you.”

“I’m sorry for worryin—“

“Shh,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “No more sorrys, okay?”

“Okay.” you curl into him.

“For the record,” he hesitates before he speaks, “I’ll always worry about you. Even if we’re not together, in different universes, or whatever. I’ll always take care of you, and I’ll always love you.”

“I thought you hated me.” you whisper.

“Impossible.” he kisses another part of your face he can reach.

“I love you too, thank you.”

For being here. For saving me. For still loving me.

“He’s going to pay for this, I promise.” You open your mouth to protest and Spencer continues, “He will get what’s coming to him. We’re going to make sure of it.”

You nod softly and listen to his heartbeat. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, baby.”

“You know I did die in the ambulance for a few seconds.” you whisper quietly.

He swallows, “I saw that in the report. I’m so sorry, sweet girl, that must have been so scary. I know what that feels like.”

“Did you…see anything, when you died?”

From when he almost succumbed to the hands of Tobias Hankel and his father. “I saw a light, it felt warm. Enveloping. Why, did you see something?”

“Yeah,” you tuck in closer to his chest, “I saw you.”

spoiler cw: pregnancy, miscarriage, reader is tortured, reader sustains injuries

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph!!! 💜💜💜 I was hoping you could help me find some fics with John as an active medical doctor or E.R. nurse?? Ideally when (or how) he meets Sherlock? *eyebrow wiggle*

Not sure where the urge comes from, but just have a hankering for some hospital shenanigans, haha.

Ty babes!!! 🫶 - Liri

JOHN IS CURRENTLY A DOCTOR

Hey Liri!!!!

Oooo good question!! First off, of course I will rec these probably-John-related-medical-themed fics:

John at the Surgery

Doctor / Caretaker John

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 2

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 3

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 4

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 5

Quarantine / Lockdown / Pandemic (MFL’s)

Coronavirus / CoVID-19 (MFLs)

Then, I have a few where he meets Sherlock as a doctor, though I haven't read them I don't believe... from a tag search and quickly skimming the descriptions. I know I've probably missed a tonne or effed up somewhere, but I'd love to make another list, so if anyone has more for Liri, let me know <3

BOOKMARKS

Non-Toxic by NinjaNina2 (M, 1,713 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Parentlock with Rosie, Established Relationship, Oneshot, Stubborn Sherlock, Worried John, Doctor John, Fluff and Humour, Misunderstandings)  – Based on previous experiences, John has every right to be worried when gone for a medical conference, but what is the extent of damage This time…?!?

Q 1 HR by stillwaters01 (G, 1,795 w., 1 Ch. || New Year's Eve, Hurt/Comfort, BAMF John, Friendship, Doctor John) – On New Year’s Eve, Sherlock discovers that sometimes it’s the seemingly innocuous, rather than life-threatening, conditions that can keep John from The Work. And John is reminded just how deeply their friendship runs.

Excerpts from Purgatory by reapersun, what_alchemy (E, 5,829 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Doctor John, Reunion Fic, Rough Sex, Angry Sex, Bottomlock, Fic with Pics)  – John serves community service in homeless shelters for chinning the superintendent. Unbeknownst to him, the Homeless Network has his back.

And A Doctor by stillwaters01 (T, 24,962 w., 6 Ch. || Five and One, BAMF John, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Friendship, Character Study) – It was only when people actually saw John working as a physician that they began to understand: that it wasn’t just about bullets and IEDs and trauma care under fire. That “doctor” actually covered a pretty wide field. And that John was bloody good at covering ground. 5 times Dr. Watson treated others and 1 time he treated himself.

Turn Left at the Park by Glenmore (NR (E), 37,409 w., 28 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting / ASiP Divergence, Case Fic, Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Loneliness, No Mary, Possessive Sherlock, Fluff & Angst, Nightmares/PTSD, Sherlock Saves John, Sherlock Whump-ish, Doctor John) – So what would have happened if John hadn't walked through the park and met Stamford? What if, instead, he walked around the park and just went home?

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Realigning Gravity Series by Raina_at (E, 69,159+ w. across 2 works || Series WiP || Sci-Fi / 24th Century Future AU || Post TRF, Cybernetic John, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Developing Relationship, Anniversary, Case Fic, Happy Endings, Doctor John) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court. Part 1 of the Care And Companionship series

MARKED FOR LATER

Take me to Baker Street by MorganeUK (G, 2,087 w., 1 Ch. || Adult Ballet AU || Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Doctor John, Song Fic, Pre-Slash) – I always loved Sergei Polunin interpretation of Take me to the church so I decided to write a version where Sherlock is a ballet dancer in serious need of a doctor…

A Doctor's Touch by my_dear_man (E, 3,275 w., 1 Ch. || ACD Canon || First Time, Taking Care, Sick Sherlock, Hand Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Blow Jobs, Love Confessions, Hallucinations, Guilt, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Angst with a Happy Ending) – "I will be there, you may be sure. "I was ill at that time but not on the brink of my death bed, a nasty flu was the case, and yet, he came by to our old rooms, like the good doctor that he is and ever will be.

Fugue (n.) by reyiosa (NR [G], 3,281 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Universe || Post-TRF, Hospital, Hallucinations, Coma, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, It Was All A Dream) – A Sherlock AU were it turns out Sherlock has made up his whole life with John as a consulting detective while stuck in a coma caused by an overdose. The real John is just a kind doctor at the hospital that sits by Sherlock’s bed and reads him detective stories.

John Hamish Watson Lestrade by MidnightMonster (G, 4,731 w., 1 Ch. || John is Lestrade's Son || ASiP, Alternate First Meeting, Older Sherlock, Younger John, POV Sherlock, Protective John) – John is Lestrade's son and is 23 years old training to be a doctor and planning to be an army-doctor. Greg's concern about John being a soldier however is pushed into the background when a new problem presents itself. Sherlock Holmes. He is worried that Sherlock will hurt John or get hurt because of him in some way. But despite his concerns and efforts of keeping them apart it seems that they can't be kept away from each other.

Wretched and Divine by meet_me_in_samarra (M, 5,130 w., 1 Ch. || Punk AU || Pining John, Seductive Sherlock, Slow Burn, Sherlock is a Doctor, Implied / Referenced Drug Use) – Dr. John Watson is on call at the A&E when he attempts to treat a very special patient. Instead he finds himself a very special treat. Part 1 of the Wretched and Divine series

Practically Perfect by vitruvianwatson (E, 6,303 w., 1 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Age Difference, Younger Sherlock, Older John, Finger Fucking, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Office Sex, Emotionally Insecure Sherlock, Barista Sherlock, Doctor John, PWP) – There was a knock on the door, and then it opened. John shook the thoughts out of his head and looked up with his fake “I’m your kindly doctor” smile plastered on his face, but a second later his jaw dropped because his “patient” wasn’t a patient at all. It was none other than Sherlock bloody Holmes. Not only that, but he was dressed in one of his more indecent outfits—skin tight jeans that looked like they’d been bloody painted on, and a purple button-down that was straining, to say the least, to remain buttoned. John wondered if he’d worked at the coffee shop in that outfit today. He shut the door and leaned back against it with a wicked smile, and John heard the click of the lock.

The Curious Incident of the Detective, the Doctor and the Dogs in the Night by mydogwatson (T, 7,652 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || Dogs, First Kiss, Honeymoon) – A meet-cute. Dogs and cases and romance. [TRANSLATION: Русский]

Not Your Doctor, Not Your Captain by weneedtotalkaboutsherlock (E, 8,645 w., 1 Ch. || AU || Daddy John, Barista Sherlock, Legal Age Difference, First Kiss/Time, Blow Jobs, Texting/Phone Sex, Anal, Rimming, Felching, Praise Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Pet Names, Doctor John) – "Coffee for John Watson," a voice calls, a low, deep rumble that sends a shiver down John's spine. The thought is pushed aside, his shoulders sagging at the sight of his long-awaited coffee. "Thank God." His eyes lock with long, elegant fingers around the rim of the cup, dimpling the carton in a way that John can only describe as sensual. It shouldn't be. It's seven-thirty in the bloody morning. "I'm afraid that God had not much to do in making your coffee this morning," the barista replies. "I, on the other hand…"

The Full Package by Kalimyre (E, 9,675 w., 3 Ch. || Omegaverse || First Time, Sex Toys, Virginity, Doctor John) – Kinkmeme fill. The clinic where John works caters specifically to Omegas experiencing their first heat. They provide top of the line service, and do anything necessary to ease their patients' discomfort. Omega!Sherlock is his latest patient.

Quid Pro Quo by J_Baillier (T, 10,035 w., 3 Ch. || Alternate Professions ||  Doctor John, Medical Conditions, Developing Relationship, Bisexual John, Sherlock’s Violin, Minor Injuries) – John Watson is a sports surgeon who thought he was at peace with his career choices but this morning, he's meeting a new patient who might just break the brittle life balance John has constructed.

Iris by Leloi (E, 11,302 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || Time Travel, Mpreg, Infertility, Virgin Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Omega Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) –John Watson was quickly learning to hate the Victorian Era. It wasn’t just the lack of proper medical care… Although that was a rather large component. It was the filth. It was the misery and the lack of regard for human life. Ok… So maybe the lack of proper medical care was a major component. It was difficult being a 21st century medical doctor stuck with 19th century technology. There was some sort of time travel involved. The really strange part is that there was a past version of himself living with a past version of Sherlock Holmes. Ok… So maybe that wasn’t the strangest part either. He seemed to be stuck in an alternate universe.

Assistance Required by Soft_Light (E, 12,162 w., 4 Ch. || PWP, Viagra, Sleepy Sherlock, Sleepy Cuddle, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Developing Relationship, Bisexual John, Demisexual Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Hair Playing, What Boundaries, It’s an Experiment) – Sherlock takes Viagra for an experiment. You can probably guess a lot of what happens next.

Transference by Jean Elizabeth (E, 16,846 w., 6 Ch. || Mental Hospital AU || Schizophrenic Sherlock, Psychologist John, Paranoia, Affairs, Friendship, Sexual Tension, Forbidden Love, Pining John, Sherlock’s Feelings, Sick Sherlock, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Angst and Humour, Sherlock/Victor, Dev. Rel. Johnlock) – Sherlock Holmes has been admitted to a mental institution for paranoid schizophrenia. He is assigned to psychologist Doctor John Watson who he inevitably begins a love affair with. John must wrestle with his guilt in putting not only his job, but Sherlock's mental well-being, in danger. Sherlock struggles with his mental disorder while living in a confining and controlling environment. So much angst and pain that can only be dulled one night a week.

keywords: Gay, Loving, Boyfriends by lookupkate (E, 17,771 w., 17 Ch. || Doctor John AU || Alternate First Meeting, Hospitals, John Writes Smut, Sherlock Reads Smut Fanfiction) – John starts writing gay romance while holed up in hospital. Sherlock reads the first fic on accident, and it sticks with him for days. He can't help but read more from the unknown writer. Little does he know, the writer isn't exactly unknown to him. The writer happens to be the A&E Doctor he's feuding with. Christ, can you imagine what he'll think once he finds out? 

Hello, Hamish by Norma_de_Plume (M, 23,833 w., 18 Ch. || John/OMC and Johnlock || Pre-TRF, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Confused John, Mild Knife Violence, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Sherlock, Doctor John, Mutual Pining, Scheming Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, BAMF John, Hurt / Comfort) – John and Sherlock never imagined that their relationship could ever be more than flatmates and best friends. Hoped, perhaps...but... *ahem* Could one person change that? What if someone else had their eye on Dr. Watson? What if it wasn't a woman?

The Scientist's Method by spacemutineer (T, 26,607 w., 7 Ch. || ACD / Granada Holmes Canon || Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt / Comfort, Time Loop, Blood / Injury, Doctor John, Developing Relationship, BAMF John, Temporary Character Death, Guilt, Drug Use / Addiction, Grief / Mourning, Friendship / Love) – Sherlock Holmes has always known the world through the straightforward lenses of evidence, logic, and reasoning. But when Watson is caught in a tragic preventable disaster, his trusted clear lines of reality start to shift and blur, and the scientist detective begins to piece together a grand discovery far beyond even his exceptional imagination. Detection is a way of learning and science is a way of knowing, but as Sherlock Holmes is about to realise, love is a way of understanding.

When We Were Young by Calais_Reno (T, 27,230 w., 10 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || First Love, Nostalgia, Pre and Post TRF, Doctor John, Angst with Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock met at school, and were a bit more than friends. But they didn't stay in touch afterwards. Life goes on, and when John returns from Afghanistan, he takes a position at Barts as a trauma specialist, working in the Emergency Department. As he reports for work one day, a man jumps off the roof of the hospital. John's world tilts on its axis.

We'll Meet Again by isitandwonder (E, 29,306 w., 7 Ch. || 1940′s WWII AU || Semi-Public Sex, Blow / Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Love Letters, Prolonged Separation, Implied/Referenced Rape, Epistolary, War Crimes, Infidelity, Reunion Sex, Magical Realism, Ghosts, Suicide, Sad with Happy Ending) – London during WW II: Doctor John Watson has a hot, anonymous brief encounter with a beautiful stranger during blackout. But they get interrupted. Will they ever meet again? Bittersweet Johnlock WWII AU with a twist to the present day in the end.

No Power of Mind by ab_initio (M, 29,436 w., 12 Ch. || Mental Hospital AU || Sherlock Sees Dead People, Mystrade) – On Monday, it's the Woman. Tuesday brings Henry Knight. Wednesday is Magnussen. Greg is Thursday followed by Moriarty on Friday. Sherlock see dead people in his palace of white. When Mycroft hires Doctor John Watson to take care of Sherlock, Sherlock wonders how long this doctor will last. As time passes, the doctor-patient relationship drifts away and Sherlock's visions begin to take control. As his sanity slips away, John tries to hold on and bring Sherlock back from the depths of his mind.

A Doctor in the House by KittenKin (T, 32,394 w., 24 Ch. || TEH Fix It, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, First Kiss) – A replacement for Series 3 Episode 1 of BBC's "Sherlock", because my John would never. Part 1 of the A Doctor in the House series

To Help Another by DrFish (E, 38,898 w., 20 Ch. || Omegaverse || Rape/Non-Con, Omega Sherlock, Alpha John, BAMF John, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Mating Cycles, Bonding, Non-Con Drugs, Violence, Knotting, Oral Sex, Past Sexual Abuse, Illness, Doctor John, Case Fic, Come Inflation, Porn With Plot, Vulnerable Sherlock, Pillows and Blanket Forts, Nightmares, Kidnapping, Grief/Mourning, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Dirty Talk, Discipline) – Dr. John Watson has been invalided out of the Army and he is struggling to come to terms with what's left of his life. When he agrees to help out with a difficult case at the hospital where he works as an emergency room physician, he not only saves this particular abused omega and others like him, but he discovers a new and better life for himself in the process.

The Montague Street Doctor by The_Circus (T, 61,488 w., 13 Ch. || Post-TRF, ACD Canon-Feeling Relationship, Gen/No Slash, Montague Street, Doctor John, Care in the Community, Reunion) – Just because Sherlock stopped, doesn't mean the Work has to. London is John's city now and he will keep it together with stitching, string, his healing, the food off his table, and sometimes the clothes off his back. John Watson keeps going. He's good at that.

A Telling Touch by MiyakoToudaiji (E, 91,656 w., 28 Ch. || Post-TRF Divergence, Reunion, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Soldier John, Friends to Lovers, BAMF John, Doctor John, War, Syria, Violence, Blood, Injury, Fighting, Soulmates, True Love, First Kiss / Time, Slow Build, Romance, Christmas, Family, Holmes Manor, Childhood Memories, Sherlock’s Violin, Case Fic) – After Sherlock’s death, John manages to get himself re-enlisted and is sent back to war. But when two series of gruesome murders link home and outland together, John is suddenly faced with more battles than he could have imagined.  

You Go To My Head Series by 7PercentSolution and J_Baillier (E, 987,192 w. across 23 Works || Surgeon AU || Medical Realism, Autism Spectrum, Anaesthetist John / Neurosurgeon Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Addiction, Angst, Slow Burn, PTSD, Pining, Insecurity, Additional Tags Under Link) – This series is an alternate universe one, featuring the exciting medical and romantic adventures of doctors Watson and Holmes.

WORKS IN PROGRESS

How They Move In Silence by Breath4Soul (M, 5,186 w., 4/? Ch. || WiP || Doctor John, Doctor/Patient, Voiceless Sherlock, Sick Sherlock, Texting) – Sherlock loses his voice and has to communicate through texts which leads to love confessions.

we are more than the footnotes my love by poechild (T, 17,874+ w., 1 of 2 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Unilock, Drug Addict Sherlock, Caring / Doctor John, Protective John, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-ASiP, Pining John, Massage, Shaving, Hurt Sherlock, Concussions, Drug Withdrawal) – A druggie kisses John on the street then steals his wallet. John, of course, takes him home.

20,000 leagues under the sea: A Victorian Sherlock AU by MorganeUK (G, 30,544+ w., 15/? Ch || Victorian Steampunk AU || WiP || Scientist Sherlock, Submarines) – The Holmes Brothers are living under the sea, protected from the world violence and general stupidity… Alone, with only a small crew, they explore the world inside their submersible. Perfectly satisfied and unaware of their loneliness, until they meet Captain Lestrade and Doctor Watson from the Royal Navy.

Only Yesterday by Berty (T, 47,530+ w., 18/20 Ch. || WiP || Alternate Timelines / 'Yesterday' AU || Post-TRF, POV John, Grief, Mental Instability, Angst, Unrequited Love, Suspense, Scotland, Hurt John, Developing Relationship, Doctor John, John is a Mess) – Sherlock has been gone for two years and John Watson is doing okay. He goes to work. He sleeps (sometimes). He eats. He has colleagues, some of whom are even friends. He has purpose. If it's not a life as others might view it, it's a fair approximation. It's fine. He's fine. One night the lights go out and when they come back on everything is the same except for one important thing. For John it's the most important thing. And suddenly John is not fine at all.

Vampires In London Series by Madam_Fandom (E, 148,590+ w. across 4 works || Series WiP || Vampire AU || Vampire Sherlock, Psychic/Empath John, Mutual Pining, Blood Drinking, Feeding, Jealousy, Angst, Implied / Referenced Rape/Non Con, Graphic Violence, Past Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Physical /Emotional / Psychological Abuse, Vampire Sex, First Time, Doctor John, Bisexual John) – John is a doctor and nothing ever happens to him, and then it does. He meets two fascinating men at a fundraiser...he soon finds out vampires are real and they are in London.

Care And Companionship Series by elldotsee and J_Baillier (E, 209,820+ w. across 5 works || Series WiP || Me Before You Fusion || Angst, Romance, Depression, Medical Ethics, Insecure Sherlock, Serious Illness, Permanent Injury, Sherlock Whump, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Physical Rehabilitation, Medical Realism, Assisted Suicide, Awkward Sex, Friends to Lovers, Alcoholism, John Whump, PTSD, Anxiety, Family Drama, Caretaker John, Alternating POVs) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

UNEXPECTED OCCURENCE by Victoria557 (M, 295,878+ w., 124/? Ch. || WiP || Post-TRF Divergence, Unexpected Parenthood, PTSD, Trauma, Child Abandonment, Slow Burn, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Doctor John, Self-Esteem Issues, Anxiety Disorder, Misunderstandings, No Mary) – Barely five months after Sherlock's death, John was slowly yet so ever damn surely falling apart. Every day since then, he had just been surviving not living. When Lestrade phone him, with nervousness and uncertainty in his voice, asking for some help with a case since Anderson who usually did the forensic stuff, and another worker who examined the body had been unfortunately unavailable and with the downfall of Lestrade's record recently, he couldn't afford to risk another scolding from his supervisor, John agreed, despite the forming of the painful twist in his stomach at the thought of being at a crime scene without a certain arrogant high-functioning sociopath. Never did he expect to encounter such a surreal event and never did he expect to find out Sherlock having a secret - well secret would be unfitting as the man himself didn't realize this.

[nessieart]

The Way Back. I

Summary: These powers were meant to help people. Help The Avengers, your family. It felt like every time you used them, something bad always happened. Maybe someone has the answers, somewhere.

WC: 5.5k

Eventual Stucky x reader. Waaay later.

An: I've been working on this off and on throughout the summer. There'll be multiple parts. I hope you enjoy!

Next

“I know that look,” you tell him, arms crossed over your chest, trying to hold yourself together.  You know what Steve is thinking, he’s been your closest friend for years now.  You’d like to think you know him better than he knows himself.  He spares you a sideways glance, arms bracing him on the desk in front of him, head bowed low between his shoulder blades.

Steve sighs, big and deep, before he straightens back up, “I don’t doubt it,” a small smile on the corner of his lips. He leans back against his desk, facing you, hands tucked under his biceps as he crosses them over his chest.  He’s trying to relax, but his shoulders are still too tense. Brows pinched and lips tight in a thin line.

“OK, maybe I don’t know that look,” you push off the door frame and make your way over to him, and stop between his feet that are extended in front of him. “What’s on your mind, Tough Guy?” Steve chuckles at the nickname you’ve called him since you met.

You see him ball his hands into tight fists, head turning away from you when he goes to speak, “Guess I’m just on edge about this meeting with Ross,” Steve shrugs.

You hum, nodding along with his reasoning.  After what happened in Lagos, you wouldn't be surprised if Senator Ross demanded your heads on pikes and the disassembly of the Avengers.

“Tony wouldn’t even give me details about it.  So you know it can’t be good,” you tilt your head, “and you know how much Tony loves to brag.” Steve’s eyes seem to soften a little, tension slowly lifting from his shoulders as you take his hand and drag him along behind you.

“C’mon, we don’t wanna be the last ones there,” Steve rolls his eyes as you open a portal and pull him through. As you both step through together, Steve visibly shudders, a chill running up his spine as he shakes his arms out.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” he shudders again as he takes a seat at the conference table.

*

You finished packing just as a knock sounded at your door. “Come in,” you called, pulling your suitcase off the bed.”

“Hey, y/n,” Steve leans against the door frame. He can’t seem to look up from his shoes.  When you stop in front of him, you place your hand on his cheek.

“I’m here,” your thumb wipes under his eye, catching the tear that threatens to fall. “I’m sorry about Peggy. I know what she meant to you.”

Steve leans into your touch, his eyes close for a moment before he speaks, “I’m - thank you, y/n. I’m heading to London with Sam in the morning,” his voice is hoarse and quiet. He swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing as he squeezes his eyes shut for a second.

“Do you want me to go with you? My bags are already packed,” you smile up at him.

When he opens his eyes, he looks over your shoulder at your luggage, “No. It’s okay. Natasha would probably kick my ass if I made you come with me.”

You remove your hand, fingers fidgeting with nothing to hold onto now, “Oh. I’m only a phone call away, remember?” Steve nods. 

*

There’s a butterfly bandage on your cheek. It's bruised and maybe a little puffy. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to stop the Winter Soldier from attacking Tony. Tony was capable. But you panicked, and instead of Tony taking the metal fist to his chest, your face took the full force of it. You wouldn’t change your decision even if asked.  You’d do it again if it meant keeping Tony upright and OK.

After the explosion at the Embassy in Vienna, one head trauma per week was your limit, or so you thought.

“Kid, are you still with me?” Your eyes tried to focus on his face as he helped you sit up.  You had passed out for a while after taking the Soldier’s punch, Tony hasn’t left your side since.

“There's two of you. I feel like there would be world domination if there were two Tony Starks..” You rubbed at your head, eyes squinting shut to refocus and stop the world from spinning. 

“Double Starks,” you hear the smirk in his voice, “imagine all the things I could accomplish.” You squint at him and shove his shoulder. He just chuckles in response.

Tony helps you to your feet, his arm around your shoulders to steady you, “I had it handled, y’know,” he says quietly. “Did you not think to use your powers?” You just nod absentmindedly. 

*

You could see the hurt and betrayal on Steve from where you stood next to Tony.  He's never looked at you like that before. A freezing stare or a melting glare. It made your stomach clench.

You didn't blame Steve's decision. You understood his headstrong reasoning for defending his best friend, even if the evidence was stacked against him.

Steve shouldn't be surprised. He scoffs. He knows you're loyal to the team. To your friends. And most of all Tony. He sees the way you look at Tony, eyes sparkling with something he only wishes he could get for himself. 

He's loved you for so long. He just couldn't admit it to himself. He's been in denial for years. You were just best friends, is what he kept telling himself. He grinds his teeth just thinking about it. 

And then he found Bucky. He thought maybe, maybe things could go back to what they used to be. Before all this, before the war, and then Bucky was gone just as fast as he returned.

But after Peggy's funeral, he wanted to tell you. God, did he want to tell you how he felt. And then the bomb went off, and he thought he lost you, too.  The panic and heart aching fear was almost too much to handle. Then he heard your voice over the phone when he called Natasha. He could breathe again.

But now he's standing across the tarmac from you, and he can't even seem to look you in the eye.

“Stargate, y’mind?” Tony turns to you, and you nod. Stepping back into the cloudy portal behind you.

As you step through to the other side, you come to a stop next to Peter, “Boys,” you call out, they all stop and look at you. “Let's all play nice, OK?” 

“Y/N,” Sam nods to you. He tries to be nonchalant and friendly but doesn't drop his defensive stance. 

Beside Sam, you see Bucky Barnes. You've only heard stories from Steve about him. Childhood best friends. You haven't met him until now. Just the soldier with his steely glare under dark brows.

You can see the difference. There's a hesitation in Barnes’ eyes, and he shifts his left arm behind him as he peers at you. Eyes clocking the bruise and cut on your cheek from his metal fist.

Barnes moves his eyes away from you when you meet his gaze, mouth in a thin grimace.

“You don't have to do this, Y/N,” Sam tries to reason with you. “Just let us go.” 

You understand, you really do. But you signed the Accords. You had to do this by the books. Or else you'd wind up in a super-max prison with people like you, and you'd never see the light of day again. 

“I have to do this, Sammy,” eyebrows furrowing into a frown. You turn to wink at Peter and step back into a portal. As your foot lifts through the portal, it steps down behind Sam and Bucky. The two of them jump in surprise and try to scramble away from you.

“Shit!” Sam almost trips over his feet as you reach out to grab Bucky by his arm and drag him back through another portal.

The next step backward, you and Bucky are standing next to Steve. As soon as you let go, Bucky bends over, placing his hands on his knees and groans like he's going to be sick, “Steve…?” 

The man in question whips around, shield raised, “Wha- Buck?” He braces his hands on Bucky's shoulders, and then he sees you. “Y/n?” 

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, “guess you aren't the only one to not like instant travel,” There's a sad smile on your face that Steve hates to see.

There's commotion in your earpiece, yelling more like. Steve can barely it make out. It causes you to wince, your head turning to find Tony clad in Iron Man armor hovering across the tarmac staring at you.

“Oops, time to go,” the cloudy mist of your portal opens behind you, and you spare Steve and Bucky one final look.

*

Steve helps Bucky to right himself, giving a pained smile when his best friend sets him with a glare.

Steve sighs, placing his shield on his back, “I know. I don't want to talk about it, Buck.” 

Bucky scoffs, “you can't be serious? How is she here, Steve? That was - she looks just like -” 

“I know, Bucky,” Steve says with more force. He looks across the airport to find you waving your arms about as you try to talk to Tony. He sighs again, “God, don't I know.” 

Bucky knows that look, and it hurts a little. “How long?” He says quietly. He wants to take pity on him, if only for a moment. They both begin to jog.

Steve pretends to think about his answer, his stomach twisting into knots as he looks around the airport turned battlefield. He could see you trying to talk to Tony as he flew away.

Steve exhaled a deep breath through his nose, “The first time I saw her.” He grimaced at Bucky's glare.

*

“You know I coulda just portalled us here, right?” You say as you follow Tony.

Tony looks over his shoulder at you, “I think I'd rather get punched by a cybernetic metal arm than instant travel through one of your portals, kid.” 

You shove his shoulder as he laughs, “Hey it's not that bad!” 

As the two of you take the elevator down, you can hear Tony sigh. The tinny grating of his voice is soft as he looks over at you.

“I'm not angry with you, Y/N,” he shakes his head.

“But… but you're disappointed, right?”

The elevator stops, and Tony has to pry the doors open so you both can step out. You follow him down another corridor before he speaks again. There's another set of doors in the way, and he braces his hands on it.

“Look, I get it. Probably better than you, kiddo,” the heavy blast doors groan with the force Iron Man uses to push them open. You step under his arm, and he follows you out. “I know how you feel about him.”

You squeak in surprise, going to protest when you catch sight of Steve and Bucky, defensive and alert when they hear the door.

Tony straightens and walks forward, helmet retracting with a roll of his shoulders. You step up beside him, Steve and Bucky visibly relax, just a bit. You walk towards them with Tony. 

“You seem a little defensive,” Tony says. He brings a hand up across your body for you to stop. Tony continues walking, and Steve stands to meet him in the middle.

“It's been a long day,” Steve sounds almost surprised to see you both here.

“At ease, soldier, I'm not currently after you.”

“Then why are you here? Both of you?” Steve looks over Tony's shoulder at you before turning his gaze back to Tony. 

You notice Bucky hasn't taken his eyes off you since you entered. 

The chamber is massive as the four of you enter. The man who lead you here taunts Steve as you all get closer. Bucky seems tense and on edge, and Tony keeps close to you.

The video plays, and it brings tears to your eyes. Tony can't seem to catch his breath.  A whimper leaves your throat as Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier - chokes the life out of Tony's mother. A hand coming up to your mouth to keep it and any more noise from escaping.

You turn your body into Tony's, and the grip he has on you is bruising, but grounding. 

“Did you know?” Tony is shaking. You feel it. Your eyes find Bucky, and he looks just as broken. “Don't bullshit me, Rogers. Did. You. Know?”

“Yes,” Steve is quiet and defeated. Tony lets go of you, and you stagger away, tears falling. 

It all happens so fast that you have no time to react. The Fighting. Tony would kill them both. Kill Bucky for what HYDRA did, for what the man who had no control of his life was made to do. And happens to have the face of Tony's parents' killer. 

You appear in front of Steve as he staggers to his feet, Tony standing tall a few feet away. You raise your hands to stop him.

“This won't change what happened, Tony, please,” you try to reason.

“I don't care,” you can hear the hurt in his voice, “he killed my mom.” 

“Y/n, get outta here!” Steve shoves you away. Tony launches himself at Steve, and you're left on the sidelines as you watch your friends fight. 

Bucky has Tony pinned to the wall, metal fingers digging into the Arc Reactor on his chest. The next moment, it fires. Bucky staggers back, his metal arm blown off at the shoulder.

You rush to Bucky, catching him before he falls face first, “Hey, Sarg, you're OK, hey. Look at me,” his eyes are wide and fearful as he leans on you for support. There's blood leaking from a wound somewhere. Your fingers are sticky with it as you try to get him to focus on you.

His hand grips the side of your face as his eyes roam over you, like he's making sure you're really there. He runs his thumb over your cheek.

You hear the whine of the Iron Man gauntlet, the vibranium of Steve's shield singing as it takes the full force of repulsor fire. It deflects, and is redirected at you. An almost slow realization that the pain in your side is there as you and Bucky are thrown apart, and the searing pain is crawling up your side as you scream.

The taste of dirt and blood fill your mouth, you aren't sure how long your brain has been in the fog of pain, but you see Steve hoist Bucky up and place Bucky's flesh arm across his shoulders.

They're both beaten and bloody, and the slow shuffle of their feet causes you to turn your body, seeking out Tony. You can see unshed tears in his eyes as he looks up at Steve and then at you.

There's a large crack across his chest. The Arc Reactor flickers off more than on. The pain in your side is almost blinding, but you crawl towards Tony anyway.

Sometimes, you forget that the reactor in his chest isn't there to keep him alive. The fear still lingering in Tony's eyes tells you he thought so, too.

“T-tony?” Your voice is hoarse. You grit your teeth, sitting up to get a better look at him. You place your hands on his chest plate.

Tony lifts himself up on an elbow. Blood covers most of his face as he brings his other hand, clad in a broken gauntlet, to your face.

“I'm sorry, kid,” he chokes out. You shake your head, grabbing his hand in yours. 

There's more shuffling behind you, and you and Tony look to see Steve holding onto a barely conscious Bucky. 

“That shield doesn't belong to you,” you grip Tony's hand tighter. “You-you don't deserve it. My father made that shield!” 

The shield drops with a deafening clang.

Steve stops, he looks down at you, and Bucky's steel blue eyes stare at you through the fringe of his hair. They are both bloody and beaten. But so is Tony.

“Y/n…” Steve starts, “I-”

“No,” Tony grunts, sitting up more, “leave her, you don't get-ugh!” Tony gasps in pain as he doubles over. You catch his shoulders so he doesn't fall over. 

“C'mon, old man, let me get us outta here,” You don't spare Steve or Bucky another glance as you open a portal and take Tony with you. 

*

There's a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake. You groan in protest, face digging more into the comfort of your arms.

“Hng,” you groan again, the hand shaking your shoulder harder. “Ugh, what?” You lift your head up from your arms, eyes squinting to refocus them.

“You were dreaming again,” his voice wasn't accusing. It was quiet and calm, his hand still on your shoulder.

You wipe off the drool on your mouth. You're sure it slips down your chin, “oh.  Sorry, Stephen,” you apologize, “didn't get a lot of sleep last night.”  Or the night before that, you think.  Come to think of it, there's been a lot of sleepless nights for you as of late.

He straightened back up, a knowing look on his face, like he could read your thoughts. 

“it's alright, we all have sleepless nights every once in a while,” Stephen Strange gives you a small smile, hands folding behind his back to stop the tremors.

Stephen clears his throat, “the Ancient One requested to see you,” he moves away so you can get up. “She didn't say why, but you know how she is.”

You chuckle a little, nodding, “Yeah, thanks,” you stretch, the ache of being hunched over in a wooden chair for hours creaking out of your bones.

You glance around the dimly lit library, eyeing the other desks and isles as you and Stephen exit.

“I'm surprised Wong didn't wake me. You know how he hates when people sleep in the library.”

You both laugh, making small talk as Stephen walks with you through the halls of Kamar-taj. The two of you didn't get along at first, but now you could say he was a close friend.

Two lost souls on a journey to be better and find what they lost. At least, that's what the Ancient One had said.

It seems like ages ago since you showed up in a small village near Nepal, the Ancient One likes to tell you it was fate that brought you to their door. But you haven't made up your mind about that yet.

It was late one evening, for a city that never sleeps, it was strangely quiet on your way back to the Tower. Tony may have been in the process of selling it, but he did tell you to stay for as long as it still had his name on the building.

The crosswalk had just turned green when you felt it. A pull so strong it stopped you in the middle of the street. 

“what the-” you felt it again. You step through a portal, not knowing where it lets you out. It's sunny here and a lot colder than New York this time of year. 

This definitely wasn't New York. Or the States, going by the building structures. You couldn't really see much from your perspective.

You turn down an alley, and the tugging on your chest is stronger here. Almost there, you guess.

There's a man down the alley, you notice. He's a bit scraggly looking if you're honest. But that's not what draws your eye. It's the men with weapons surrounding him. This can’t be good, you think. You edge closer, trying to gauge the situation better as they close in on him. The man in the center raises his hands, pleading quietly.

“Look, guys, I don’t have any money,” he sounds American, at least.

“Your watch,” one of them says, motioning towards the man’s arm.

“It's all I have left.” The three thugs are less than an arms length away now, and the man throws a punch first, yelping in pain when his fist connects.

In a heartbeat, they jump him, forcing him to the ground as they kick and beat him.

“Hey!” You rushed forward, “three against one's hardly fair, boys.”  One of the thugs lunges at you, but you dodge out of the way, your knee connects with his stomach, and he drops to the ground.  You follow through with stomping your foot on his stomach again. He groans in pain.

As the two remaining thugs come to their senses, they circle you before attacking.  One gets a punch across your cheek, you grab his wrist and twist it, making him double over to try and get away. Your free hand jabs at his throat, and you use the momentum to toss him over your shoulder with ease.

The last one standing raises his bat to hit you, but before he can, a man in a hooded robe grabs the end of the bat, and jabs the thugs in the face, causing him to reel and fall to the ground as well.  You haven't kept up with your training. You used to spar with Steve all the time. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth thinking about it. His goodbye note and the burner phone burning a hole into your back pocket at the remembrance. 

You're out of breath when you stand back up to your full height, "thanks," you huff at the newcomer. The hooded man nods, regarding you silently.

You to stoop next to the man that was attacked, extending your hand to help him up, "Are you OK, Mr..?"

"Doctor," he responds, looking at your hand for a moment before he places his shaky hand in yours.

You smirk, "Not a doctor, but you're welcome," you see him roll his eyes as you hoist him up and scan his figure to make sure he's alright, other than the tremor of his fingers, he seems unharmed.

The man nods his head to you, a small uptick of his lips, "Stephen Strange."

"Y/N, nice to meet you."

The hooded figure approaches you both, hand extending the watch the thugs stole from Stephen, "You're looking for Kamar-taj," he simply says.

That was months ago. You aren't really sure why you stayed at Kamar-taj. Maybe it felt right that being here was where you were meant to me.

"Well, this is where I leave you," Stephen pulls you from your memory. You should apologize for ignoring him. Before you could open your mouth, the doors open, revealing the Sorcerer Supreme. She offers you a kind, knowing smile, and before Stephen can retreat back to the library, the Ancient One calls for both of you to join her in her study.

You train with Stephen, both of you learning how to master the mystic arts. None of it is easy, Stephen struggles more than you, though, and you try to be supportive. He lashes out a few times, but he always apologizes later - in his own way. A cup of tea placed in front of you while you study in the library or a book you couldn't quite reach before is within your grasp - thanks to Stephen. And when you do finally form the intricate symbols that glow in midair and bend to your will, they are the color of the scar embedded in your chest. Bright blue, but no less beautiful than the orange glow of every other persons power.

You never bother with the sling-ring, you much rather travel via your portals. The Ancient One advised you not to use your native gifts in the Temple or around the others, if you could help it.

While you were staying in Kamar-taj, you met with the Ancient One by yourself once a week. She would help you with your natural powers. As natural as they had been, anyway. She never asked how you had gotten your powers, but there was a sparkle of intrigue in her eye whenever she glimpsed the bright blue crystalline scar on your chest. As long as your palm from your collar bone to sternum and a small matching one between your shoulder blades.

You had asked if she could remove them, she didn't humor you with a response. Instead, she had told you, in all her years on Earth, she had never seen anyone with powers like yours.

*

There was a book in your hands as you entered Stephen's study. The New York Sanctum recently became your new home after finishing your studies in Nepal, and after the Ancient One had passed. The words were in a language you couldn't decipher, so, naturally, you sought out the one person who could help you. You did enjoy bothering Stephen Strange quite a bit.

Looking down at the jumble of words, symbols, and pictographs, you entered the study, "Hey, Stephen, I can't find a translator on this tome. Could you -" You cut yourself off, looking up the words die on your tongue as you find Stephen not alone.

"Thor?" A smile breaks across your face as you look at your old friend. Thor leaps up from his chair, drink long forgotten as he rushes towards you and engulfs you in a bear hug. It's warm and familiar.

"Little Starlight! What are you doing here?" His voice rumbles through your chest as he sets you down. A heavy, comforting hand on your shoulder as you fidget with the book in your hand.

"I've - uh - been living here for awhile," you peak up at Thor, then look at Stephen. "The Avengers aren't really, um, together anymore."

Thor looks confused, his brows drawn together as he thinks, "Surely you jest? What about Stark? The two of you were attached at the hip! Father and daughter, more like. He would not abandon you." You go to speak, but Thor continues, "or Captain Rogers? Surely not," he scoffs, "he was very fond of you. Followed you around like a lost Hel-pup."

Your head tilts to the side, eyebrows creasing in question, Steve followed you around? Sure, the two of you did a few things together when there was downtime between missions. You introducing him to a lot of current TV shows or movies, cult classics you promised he'd love, but you're sure he never understood.

"What do you mean?" you ask Thor. He gives you a wide grin, and you feel your insides tighten just a little.

"He was in love with you, girl! Everyone could see it plain as the Golden Palaces of Asgard!" His laugh is hearty as he slaps your shoulder, the weight almost crushing now at the realization dawns on you.

Steve was in love with you?

A small squeak leaves your throat. But Steve was - is - your best friend. He even said so on multiple occasions. He has Bucky now, right? There was no way he thought about you anymore.

"Don't be ridiculous, Thor, Steve wasn't in love with me," your protest even sounds weak to your own ears, as your shoulders slump forward and Thor gives you a gentle pat.

Stephen clears his throat. You almost forgot he was even here. And thank the Gods for Dr. Strange, he waves his hand, and the low coffee table and chairs the two men had previously occupied vanished from sight. "Wait, hold on," he starts, fingers going to pinch the bridge of his nose, "you were an Avenger?" he looks at you like you were telling a joke, an amused expression on his face. "You were a lab assistant or something - a secretary maybe - surely," he chuckles. And that kind of stings.

Thor seems to grow larger in the small space between you. A low grumble rolling up his chest as he steps in front of you. The little hairs on your arm stand on end. A crackle of electricity in the air around the room. "Have a care how you speak, wizard. Y/N may look small and unassuming, but she can hold her own with many a great warrior. On Midgard or any realm."

Pride blooms in your chest, small popping bubbles seem to lift your insides at Thor's defense of you. You haven't used your powers since the Ancient One passed. Her and Wong were the only two at the Sanctum to know about what happened to you and your abilities.

So, with a big inhale, you summon a cloudy portal and step through it and then reappear next to Stephen in the blink of an eye. He suppresses a yelp, the Cloak of Levitation running the ends of its tail up your arm in greeting.

"Wh-what was that? How did you do that?"

"It's still a little fuzzy. All the details of how it happened. I really shouldn't be alive," you begin undoing your robes, the top half opening to show your tank top and the very bright blue glow of the crystalline scar on your chest. "The Ancient One knew. She helped a lot with getting a handle on how my powers work. Though I don't really understand most of it. Some of it comes naturally, like I already know what to do."

You fix your robes, Stephen's hand stopping you, his eyes quizzical as he examines your scar with surgeon eyes. "She understood my powers better than I could ever seem to hope," a sad smile pulls at your lips. "I couldn't do half the things I can now if it wasn't for her."

"This should have killed you, Y/N," Stephen finally speaks. He removes his hand from your arm, folding his arms across his chest. Thor hums in agreement as you tie your robes back together.

"The Infinity Stone clearly had bigger plans for her than we could ever imagine," Thor says thoughtfully.

"What? Infinity? No -" You shake your head. "The Tesseract isn't a -" you couldn't find the words. It did make sense, the longer you thought about it.

"The Space Stone, yes," Thor nods.

"Oh."

*

So there you stood, on the grand staircase of the foyer, with Stephen and Thor. It's a little bittersweet, having to say goodbye to Thor, but he promised you'd see him again.

"Oh, before I take my leave, if you would not mind," Thor motions to Stephen and then the empty foyer. Stephen hums, his hands quickly moving to open a portal a few feet in the air. You hear a loud thud at the bottom of the stairs, a well-dressed, dark-haired man lay prone on the floor.

He flipped his hair back, groaning, "I have been falling for 30 minutes!" As he stood to dust himself off, you launch yourself down the steps and engulf him in a hug.

"Mischief!" You laugh. You haven't seen Loki since after the Battle of New York. "I thought you died!" You punch his arm and look up into his shocked face.

"Hello, Starlight," his hands come to rest on your shoulders, long fingers curling around and squeezing. There was a small smirk on his face as he looked down at you. "I see you've finally left Stark and your doe-eyed Captain."

You groan, "not you too."

"Hold on," Stephen's hand flew to his face as he drug it back down, "How do you know Loki?"

Loki and Thor stood behind you as you faced Stephen, before you could answer, they both put a hand on your shoulders, Thor's voice swelled with pride, "Y/N was the one to notice the effects of the scepter on Loki," you felt your face heat up at his praise.

"If it were not for our dear Starlight testifying in front of the All Father, I would have spent an eternity in prison."

Stephen looks so confused. He's looking at you like he's never met you. His head shakes from side to side as he paces around the foyer, a hand on his hip, the other running through his hair. "Why were you in Nepal last year?"

You stiffen, Thor's hand squeezes your shoulder, Loki steps closer to your side, angeling his front to your side. They are here for you, supporting you in a way they know how. Thor's grounding touch and Loki's magic you can feel crackle along his fingertips.

You gulp down a breath and square your shoulders, "I felt this, this pull, I don't know how else to describe it," your hand comes up to your chest. "i didn't know what it was, but one minute I was in New York, and the next i was rounding a corner, and there you were."

"The thugs," Stephen's hands drop, and his posture slouches. The Cloak clings a little tighter around his shoulders.

"The Ancient One said we were meant to meet. There was a reason my powers brought me to you. At that exact moment."

*

You bid farewell to Thor and Loki as they step through Stephen's portal that would lead them to Odin.

"Stay out of trouble," you give them a stern look, "the both of you."

Thor gave you a wide grin and a wave as he stepped through the portal. Loki shoves his hands in his suit pockets, giving you a wink as he follows Thor.

And then they were gone.

Stephen turns to you, a thoughtful look on his face, "I have so many questions."

"I probably have the answers."

****

Next>

[sitp-recs]

20 Harry-centric fics to read this month

What better way to celebrate Harry’s birthday than revisiting (or discovering) Harry-centric fics? If you feel like taking a deep dive into his character, here are my suggestions: short and long stories exploring his emotional arc, inner struggles, past trauma, sexual liberation and of course, his feelings about himself and about Draco. I couldn’t resist including some Draco POV fics because I love learning about Harry through his eyes. Pick your comfort food and enjoy Harry’s HBD week!

Still Life, orphaned (M, 3k)

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Snug by @moonflower-rose (E, 6k)

Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.

Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (T, 9k)

Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots.

fine i'll hold my breath / til i forget it's complicated by teatrolley (NR, 11k)

Harry and Draco become friends with benefits, and Harry thinks it's more complicated than it actually is.

Let's Go Outside by cryptonym (E, 24k)

Harry's done with the sofa, the hall and the kitchen table, baby.

Famous by @fw00shy (E, 24k)

It's a couple of years after the war, and Harry's bored of models now, the same way he's bored of Ron's constant nagging, bored of his Weasley monogram knitwear, bored of the same fucking grin that greets him when he hands his fire-truck red Bugatti over to the valet every night. He wants to find—well, he isn't sure what he wants. Anything but models.

Expecto Patronum by @writcraft (E, 35k)

As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

Unseen by @jackvbriefs (T, 47k)

Harry Potter finally has the chance to leave England and its expectations for The Chosen One behind for good. All he has to do is survive one Auror training conference overseas with Draco Sodding Malfoy.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Harry Potter and the elusive day off by pleasebekidding (E, 71k)

Auror Potter needs a fucking break. He is wiped. He is exhausted. He probably didn't intend to put himself into a magical coma but these things happen. And who cares, really? He is comfortable in a house where he has hidden away all the shit he can't deal with.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by nerakrose and dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 99k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

where all the veins meet by eight_of_wands (E, 146k)

It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now?

Away Childish Things by lettered (T, 153k)

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own. Or, in which Harry hates his Auror partner, Draco flips houses, Pansy sleeps around, Hermione is a magical creatures’ justice warrior, Blaise is getting married, and Ron is just along for the ride.

[lovefms]

HALO  BIOTECH  SYSTEMS  ARCHIVED  FILE  –  RESTRICTED  ACCESS

SUBJECT  DOSSIER  #YH-0155

SUBJECT  ALIAS:  “cain” LEGAL  NAME:  ho,  ████ NATIONALITY:  british  (korean  descent)  CLEARANCE  LEVEL:  red  HANDLER  REQUIRED:  yes  OBSERVATION  STATUS:  active  monitoring RISK  INDEX:  severe  (lv.  5)

subject  ho—alias  “cain”—displays  an  alarming  degree  of  psychic  volatility  tied  directly  to  emotional  states,  particularly  anger,  betrayal,  and  rejection.  his  mutation  appears  linked  to  subconscious  willpower.  victims  collapse  from  internal  trauma  (aneurysm,  cardiac  arrest,  etc.)  without  visible  external  force. despite  a  cultivated  public  image,  subject’s  emotional  repression  and  abandonment  trauma  result  in  frequent  psychological  instability.

RECORDED  INCIDENTS  (LEVEL  4–5  SEVERITY)

2018  –  LONDON,  ENGLAND location:  royal  gala,  kensington  details:  political  aide  collapsed  from  brain  haemorrhage  following  heated  exchange  with  subject.  CCTV  footage  inexplicably  corrupted.  incident  classified  as  natural  until  anomaly  pattern  was  cross-analysed  in  2020.  status:  covered  by  royal  family.  no  charges  filed.

2019  –  PARIS,  FRANCE location:  private  hotel  restaurant  details:  romantic  partner  attempted  to  end  relationship  during  dinner.  partner  suffered  simultaneous  cardiac  arrest.  subject  left  before  emergency  services  arrived.  status:  no  public  record.  handled  by  french  division.

2020  –  LONDON,  ENGLAND location:  family  estate  details:  verbal  altercation  with  younger  brother,  a  legitimate  royal  heir,  during  closed-door  family  meeting.  minutes  later,  brother  collapsed  with  severe  internal  haemorrhaging.  placed  in  ICU  for  16  days.  recovery  incomplete. subject  response:  refuses  to  speak  of  incident.  status:  Incident  redacted  from  public  medical  records.

2021  –  GENEVA,  SWITZERLAND location:  embassy  conference  details:  staffer  confronted  subject  with  accusations  related  to  paris  event.  collapsed  within  hours  due  to  unexplained  kidney  and  liver  failure.  subject  visibly  shaken;  fled  mid-event.  status:  event  concealed  as  food  poisoning  outbreak.

2023  –  TOKYO,  JAPAN  location:  rooftop  of  private  residence  details:  friend  confronted  subject  over  perceived  betrayal.  psychic  signature  spike  recorded  moments  before  collapse.  victim  remains  in  vegetative  state.  subject  exhibited  signs  of  extreme  dissociation  and  guilt.  post-incident  behaviour:  self-isolated  for  47  days.  refused  psychological  aid.

[world-of-wales]

PRINCE OF WALES DIARIES ♔

20 FEBRUARY 2024 || BRITISH RED CROSS HEADQUARTERS

The Prince of Wales paid a visit to visit the British Red Cross at its headquarters in Central London to learn about the humanitarian efforts taking place to support those affected by the conflict in the Middle East and in Gaza. The British Red Cross are providing humanitarian aid in the region via the Red Cross Red CrescentMovement. Teams have been responding to urgent humanitarian needs with vital aid and support,including providing first aid, ambulances, and medical support. They have launched an emergency fundraising appeal to support these efforts. Upon arrival William hears about the Red Cross's current operations in the region and the latest situation on ground, particularly in Gaza. He then met members of the charity's psycho-social team who provide mental health support tothose who are enduring trauma and suffering around the world. He also spoke via video conference to some of the teams operating in the region who are supporting the humanitarian response in Gaza.

[coochiequeens]

Interesting how the "sex work is work" crowd never talk about how the sexual exploitation of women interssects with racism.

Left to right: Mickey Meji, Ne’cole Daniels, Taina Bien-Aimé, Bridget Perrier, Ally Diamond

In Dr Vednita Carter’s Black Minnesota neighbourhood, white middle class men cruise the streets in luxury cars, looking for Black girls and young women to pay to use and abuse sexually. This echoes back to the white man’s white god-given right to unlimited sexual access to Black women and girls during the long centuries of slavery.

There isn’t much that Dr Carter doesn’t know about prostitution and its inherent racism. When she was 18, she and her white friend answered an advert for dancers. They were channelled into separate white girl and Black girl tracks, and before long Dr Carter found herself sucked into prostitution.

But she was one of the lucky ones. Unlike so many women, she got out of the trade relatively quickly and with her life intact. She subsequently set up a not-for-profit, Breaking Free, to help other women and girls get out. In February she was in England to speak at the ‘Women of Colour Against the Sex Trade’ event, hosted by SPACE International, an organisation of prostitution survivors.

She told us about the group work she does with young women, some still in that life, some taking their first steps out of it. When you ask them what they like about prostitution, she said they talk about how good it feels to have money. But when asked how they feel when they get down on all fours and take his dick into their mouth, they all start to cry.

Dr Carter said, “Don’t get me wrong. The majority of women in prostitution don’t make a lot of money.” Mickey Meji, from South Africa, continued this theme saying prostitution is not a way out of poverty. Most women enter it poor and those that manage to get out, end up even poorer, but now scarred emotionally, physically and mentally.

Bridget Perrier, an indigenous Canadian woman, who was brutally pimped from the age of 12, said that in her native language, there’s no word for prostitution. Traditionally, women and girls were seen as water carriers and life givers. It was the white colonialists who introduced prostitution to her people. And what a brilliant mechanism it has proved to be for decimating communities.

Prostitution defines women as commodities, objects to be used, so the power men have over them is more or less total. Perrier told us of her adopted daughter, whose mother, Brenda Wolfe, was murdered by the notorious serial-killer, Robert Pickton, who fed her body to his pigs. Her jawbone was found in the pig trough.

He admitted killing 49 women – all involved in prostitution and most indigenous. The police missed endless opportunities to end his killing spree, just as West Yorkshire Police spent years bodging chances to catch Peter Sutcliffe.

What do you expect? Women involved in prostitution are disposable and when they are racialized, even more so. As Dr Carter said, prostitution makes a statement about all women: that all women can be bought and sold, and if a man doesn’t want to buy you, he can rape you. If you can be bought and sold, you’ve not got full human rights. So of course the police aren’t going to prioritise your disappearance or even murder.

Ne’cole Daniels was a ‘trick baby’ – her father a ‘trick’ or ‘john’ as American prostituted women refer to their punters. She was the third generation of women in her family who landed up in prostitution. She spoke movingly about the havoc that the trauma her mother and grandmother experienced wreaked on the family. She had an epiphany and became determined that she would be the last one; that there would be no fourth generation.

The pain and loss in these women’s lives was a palpable presence – the pain and struggle of being Black in a white supremacist culture; female in a male supremacist culture

White-dominated agencies are ill-equipped to deal with Black women’s emotional pain – pain caused by white racism. The need for well-funded services run by Black women for Black women is urgent. Daniels, like Perrier, Meji and Dr Carter, has dedicated her life to serving the women in her community and telling the world the brutal truth about the sex trade.

Suzanne Jay, an Asian Canadian woman, spelled out the racist ways in which Asian women are packaged as products for men, raw materials for multi-billion dollar profits: china dolls, geishas, Japanese schoolgirls, and willing, subservient girlfriends. Their small stature and ‘childlike’ features are fetishized in porn and brothels everywhere.

She traced the roots of this back to the Japanese ‘comfort women’ brothels in the Second World War, enthusiastically taken over by the United States afterwards. The US ‘rest and recreation’ centres set up during the Vietnam War confirmed Thailand’s lasting pre-eminence as a ‘sex tourist’ destination, where relatively wealthy white men come in their thousands to buy sexual access to poor Asian women, feeding off their poverty, disadvantages and suffering.

Just as the military use and abuse prostituted women, so do the so-called peacekeepers. While UN peacekeepers were in Cambodia, its sex trade more than tripled.

Many people argue that the solution is to legalise the sex trade or to decriminalise all its aspects. But consider what we heard from Roella Lieveld about the Netherlands, where prostitution was legalised 19 years ago and recent research found that 97% of the women involved experience violence

Consider also the Black woman we heard about whose pimp placed her in one of the legal brothels in Nevada. When the white men didn’t buy her because she’s Black, her pimp beat her for not making enough money. She was advised to get photos taken of herself naked on all fours and to market them to punters who like Ku Klux Klan roleplay.

Is such a brutal, exploitative and racist industry really reform-able?

And what is it for anyway? Male orgasms. And building up male egos and entitlement.

I leave you with the wisdom of Ally Diamond, an indigenous woman from Australia. She asked why society enables men’s bad behaviour. We make excuses for them: they don’t mean it; they can’t help it; it’s not their fault. When did this start? When did we start downgrading men’s abuse from serious to not so serious?

We deserve better. We need to unite and rise up and say enough is enough. We need the Nordic Model. And we need it now.

This article first appeared in the Morning Star on International Women’s Day, 2019.

[idolbound]

Modern Verse Timeline

1967:

Meredith is born on Sunday, May 21st in London, England, to Bernard and Maighread Stannard, 7 years after her older sister Amelia.

1972:

The Stannard family is murdered by one of Amelia's school teachers. He fostered a relationship with the vulnerable 12 year old Amelia by manipulating her into believing he could be trusted; he gained access to the home by asking her to let him in. During this incident, their next door neighbour, Officer Wentworth Kell heard the disturbance and entered the Stannard residence. Unfortunately, he was too late to save Amelia (who had tried to stop the assailant), but he was able to apprehend the man before he found Meredith. Subsequently, after making a call to the police and handling the aftermath, wee Meredith refused to leave Wentworth's side; with no other family on record, he decided to pursue the adoption process, officially becoming her adoptive father only weeks after the murders.

1973-1985:

For the next 12 years, young Meredith harbors the trauma of what she witnessed as a girl. Wentworth does his best to raise her to be well-adjusted, given the circumstances. He gets her involved in extracurricular activities like rugby (which, women's clubs were just beginning to form at this time in the U.K.), and by the time she's ready to take her final exams at high school, she had already decided to pursue a military career much like Wentworth did before 'retiring' into policing.

1986:

However, in this time frame, Wentworth's years-long symptoms of forgetfulness and cognitive impairment (which had led to his early retirement from policing) ramp up quite quickly, and he becomes diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. Meredith manages to finish school and graduate with high grades, but she does not yet pursue her enlistment in order to take care of her adoptive father.

1987:

Wentworth eventually passes a year later; fortunately, with changes in U.K. police legislation, officers both active and retired who passed away could leave their pensions to their surviving loved ones. As a young 20 year old with no family left in her life, she enlists with the British Armed Forces, beginning her military career with the intention to rise through the ranks, despite being at a disadvantage in such a male-dominated field.

1990-1991:

With rising tensions abroad, Meredith is deployed in one of the first units to have women in active combat roles, seeing live combat in the Gulf War.

1995:

After 2 consecutive terms, Meredith retires from the military, deciding to take up a career in law enforcement in London like Wentworth did. She starts off as a beat cop but desires to become a detective eventually.

2002:

After 30 years, the Stannard Family killer is released on 'good' behaviour; it makes the news, and it sends Meredith spiraling. She believes there had to have been corruption behind bars that led to a deal being made. This eventually leads her to being put on "leave" from active duty, but in the meantime, she decides to quit the police force, sell Wentworth's house, and moves to Scotland. She does this in order to pursue a career in Corrections, seeking to climb the career ladder to one day become the Prison Warden of Kirkwall Penitentiary, with the intention of both implementing strict regulatory policies and harsh punishments within the prison, as well as using her access to the judicial system in order to keep tabs on the status of her family's killer. She holds this desire because she wishes that no one else should experience seeing their loved ones' murderers/rapists/etc. be set free on "good" behaviour. She is a staunch believer in corporal punishment.

2004:

After a couple years as a corrections officer, the board sends Meredith along with a few others to attend a Prison Security conference in New York City, USA. It is the first time she has left the U.K., and their hotel rooms and meals are all paid for through their work, allowing her to learn American methods and to socialize with others there. However, on the first night, Meredith decides to go out to a local club and it is here that she first meets Amelia Comstock ( @sanctamater ). They two very much hit it off and return to Meredith's hotel room to hook up. It goes so well that they call each other the next day and decide, after the conference concludes, to go out to dinner, and spend the night together again, as well as Sunday, ordering in room service for all their meals, having gratuitous sex in between. Meredith's flight leaves the following Monday night, but within the week, they are calling each other, and desire to see one another again. This continues for weeks into months, with Amelia being able to easily afford the time and trips to visit Meredith. In the time in between visits, Meredith falls into an old habit, getting with a friend with benefits (Constable Anne S. Jackson, a police colleague of Meredith's and resident corrupt cop), only to realize she has deep feelings for Amelia, and that even this casual endeavor did nothing for her, deciding that she wants to make it work with Amelia, whatever it may look like as a distanced couple.

2008:

4 years into their relationship of going back and forth (including a time when Amelia and her young daughter Liz came to live in Kirkwall on her own for a few months to be near Meredith), Amelia prompts a streak of jealousy which finally pushes Meredith to purchase a ring and propose, (pushing past her repressed Catholic ideology). Amelia accepts.

2009:

A year later in the winter time, Meredith and Amelia legally enter a Civil Partnership in Scotland, as gay marriage did not become legal until 2014. For them, it was not so much about the law as it was the symbolism of recognizing their relationship as legally binding. In this time, Amelia expresses the desire to have another child, and they agree to have children through IVF using donor sperm and fertilized eggs from Meredith, implanted in Amelia to be the childbearing parent. The timing of this process works well as it just became legal for lesbian couples to get access to IVF treatments via the NHS by November of '09.

2011:

By early 2011, Meredith and Amelia give birth to fraternal twin daughters. Margaret Isobel Stannard and Johanna Siobhan Stannard are born, healthy and well. Meredith takes maternity leave for the first year of her daughters' lives. When she returns to work, she receives a promotion to Prison Warden, invoking new responsibilities at the Penitentiary and a much bigger paycheque. She runs the prison much like the military, following strict regulations and laws, and cracking down on contraband and illicit dealings within its walls. The prison soon earns the nickname The Gallows, as often, many prisoners feel that their time there is so horrific and cruel, that they would rather take their own lives rather than continue to live under the same conditions for the rest of their sentences. This repeated problem begins to arouse the interest of a few detectives back at the Scotland Yard who knew Meredith when she was an officer, wondering if they have a case to investigate for cruel and unjust punishment. The Penitentiary goes under a few inquiries and investigations with Meredith at the helm, but each time they try to find evidence of her practices (e.g., violent interrogations, undue punishments for bad behaviour, corruption at the administrative level, etc.), they seem to come up shorthanded with nothing really to persecute her without the case being thrown out by the judge.

2015:

It is at this time that Meredith and Amelia begin the process of moving to the United States permanently. It is not a decision that comes easily, but one Meredith is willing to do now that Maggie and Anna are nearing school age, and she herself has saved up a lot of funds. Throughout the year, Amelia has most of their things sent stateside, and starts adjusting the twins to attend school by September in the U.S. With this in mind, Meredith tenders her resignation to complete by the end of the year, December 31st. In the meanwhile, Meredith plans to to visit Amelia, Liz, Maggie, and Anna during holidays. However, news breaks that a local London family has been murdered, and while full case details are not provided to the general public, Meredith's friend Anne feeds her information because the killer appears to have the same M.O. as the man who killed the Stannard family (grooming one of the teenagers, gaining access, killing all of them using that trust). This sets Meredith on an spiral once again, fueling an unhealthy obsession trying to link her family's killer to the case. With Anne, they begin to look through the details and piece it together in their off duty time. At this time, Meredith isn't sleeping well, and she picks up her old cocaine habit out of stress. She is distracted and doing poorly at work. Her mind is obsessed with this new case. She also ends up using the resources available to her as the Warden to get a most recent known location of the man that killed her family through the parole system, and with the acquired insider details from Anne, gets confirmation that police suspect it is the same killer responsible for both families' deaths. In the interim, she visits Amelia and the children for American Thanksgiving, but it is noticeable that something isn't quite right with her. Amelia does not say anything, and Meredith returns to Kirkwall after a 5 day trip. It is in this time, that she creates a meticulous plan of operation for premeditated murder; she intends to go to London in advance to lure the man into a false sense of safety to then kill him in time to leave the country on her already-booked one-way flight to the United States. However, after locating the man and instigating a fake flirtation at a local pub to convince him to take her home, Meredith's confidence wavers; it ends up going a lot messier than she’d planned - both out of a revenge-filled rage and being high on a lot of cocaine. She does her best to clean and remove any trace of blood, and in her panic calls Anne to help her. Together, they end up ditching the weighted body in the river before Anne drives Meredith straight to Heathrow to board her scheduled flight In this time, however, she has had her phone turned off for the past 72 hours, leaving Amelia to be calling and texting with no answer. She calls to put out a wellness check on Meredith at their home in Kirkwall. However, when Meredith lands stateside on New Year's Eve, she turns on her phone and receives all these messages, but does not answer them. Instead, she takes the next cab to their NYC brownstone home, finally meeting an exasperated Amelia, asking to put their daughters to bed because they need to talk. Much of the conversation is hushed, spoken out on the balcony in the snow. Immediately, Amelia asks who knows, and Meredith confides that her old friend Anne is in on it. Creatively, Amelia plans a strong alibi, provided that Anne will cover her -- she suggests that Meredith was having a 3-day long affair with Anne, for old time's sake before moving away to the US permanently. They get Anne to agree to testify to that story, but still invest in hiring a powerful lawyer to handle the eventual case. Meredith ends up being cleared as a potential suspect as there isn't enough evidence to convict, and her alibi with Anne is firm, given their past relationship.

2016 to Present:

After settling in New York, Meredith and Amelia focus on raising their daughters together, while maintaining their long-term relationship. When gay marriage becomes legal in the U.S., they officially get 'married', and both women hold dual US/UK citizenships. While with Amelia's money, they do not have to work, but Meredith chooses to, pursuing her corrections career in an American setting, getting into the management of a high security prison. Amelia eventually expresses interest in pursuing politics and Meredith quits to support her wife.

Some headcanons of note:

As a young girl, Wentworth brings Meredith into the Catholic church with him (especially as her mother Maighread was an Irish Catholic as well) - which, of course, at the time in England, still had a bit of lingering anti-Catholic sentiments in its own context as well as in the context of 'The Troubles' in Northern Ireland. However, this had Wentworth instilling a strong sense of faith in Meredith at a young, impressionable age, which she still very much carries with her to this day, going to church every Sunday.

In her teens, Meredith became well aware of her attraction to other girls. While her friends were busy being 'boy crazy' and dating, she had no interest. In this way, she used her faith as a cover (she was just a good Catholic, and would be saving herself for marriage as an adult). That said, she did have a very homoerotic relationship with a close friend that, unfortunately, never came to fruition and Meredith was preoccupied with Wentworth's declining health, and then enlisted in the military. Which, eventually, she met another lesbian who wasn't exactly out when in the military (especially since the U.K. military had anti-homosexuality laws in place for its army until 2000), but had a first relationship with this woman when they were off duty and keeping it a secret for the many months they were together.

Meredith has dealt with a lot of repression and Catholic guilt about her sexuality, but given that she has no family or ties to anyone important, she also has no one to judge what she does behind closed doors, eventually coming to accept herself but keeping her personal life extremely private.

With the money she inherited from Wentworth's account and his pension, along with her own income, Meredith was able to sell the house and put a payment down on a secluded home in the rural area outside of Kirkwall, commuting to work as the Prison Warden. She prefers to drive a 4 door Mercedes-Benz sedan with tinted windows and drives it standard/manual.

Meredith's house is a fair size, with dark colour themes and wood furniture and hardwood flooring, with marble tiles in bathrooms and the kitchen. She collects classic literature and history texts, and spends much of her time in her office when she is not working. There are lots of trees around her property, and the house is almost a quarter mile back from the road.

Meredith boards her grey mare at a local stable and rides her a few times a week. She once thought of competing in hunter-jumper events, but with previous injuries and an ageing body, she prefers to go for solo trail rides for a couple hours on weekends, and otherwise working her horse to keep her in shape during the week.

Meredith has PTSD from both her childhood trauma as well as her stint in the military; she is not in therapy (and she should be).

Meredith is also addicted to cocaine, using frequently throughout the workday when stressed and dealing with a lot of problems. (She can often be found doing a line off the counter in her personal office bathroom). This is mainly the cause of her erratic behaviour as of late, though stress and paranoia are additional factors.

She keeps a childhood picture of herself and her sister Amelia on her desk; it is one of her most prized possessions.

Cullen is her second-in-command at work, but they also have a more personal relationship outside of it (well it started when she asked for his help outside of work hours and then they've become weirdly friends but also he's like a pseudo-son and she invites him along to events sometimes).

Orsino is a social worker with the NHS who stands to help and represent the prisoners and is a constant thorn in Meredith's side.

Meredith tends to dress in classy business wear, preferring pantsuits and jackets with heels most days, though sometimes a blouse and pencil skirt. She seldom wears jeans or casual clothing outside of the house.

[altschmerzes]

🌹🌹 Wriggle up maybe some of Jamie's trauma?

boy howdy there is so much of that to go around. salutes.

specific content warnings under the cut along with the clip. it's not particularly intense, but it's upsetting and emotional. from the part of the fic set between seasons 1 and 2 and re: roy's retirement. it's a bit of a...... well. a lot of a long clip but i think we've come to expect that from me at this point lmao.

content warnings for the scene: jamie is living alone with his father in manchester at this point and his internal state is... not good. there is some like. it's not exactly outright violence, but it's rough contact that jamie doesn't want, kind of mocking not-affection.

--

Jamie is alone in his room with the door closed, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he’ll be noticed or stopped if he tries to leave and just fuck about in the park for a few hours until it’s late enough to go to bed when he hears it. The segment transition music of his father’s favourite sports network is a distinctive and familiar sound, a regular feature of life that’s gone back and forth from Manchester to London and back again, staying the same even as most everything else changed. Half the time Jamie doesn’t even register it anymore, it just is. Today he does. Today he hears it because he’s paying attention to the flat, tracking the sounds on instinct. And because Jamie hears the segment transition noise, he hears what comes after it.

The segment hosts are talking about Richmond. They’re talking about Roy. Jamie closes his eyes and pulls at the front of his shirt, pinching the fabric idly between his thumb and forefinger and tugging. He hears press conference and major announcement and knee injury and something about those words, the combination of them, has Jamie pulling himself up off of his bed and out into the hallway. Every inch of him is exhausted all the way down to the core but he has to go, compelled for reasons he can’t explain to walk into the living room.

Standing in the doorway, Jamie watches over the back of the couch, over his father’s shoulder, as Roy appears on camera and starts talking. Starts crying. The words themselves are a blur, only a few coming through clearly as Jamie listens, sick to his stomach and struggling to breathe all the way in - team of doctors, continuing degeneration, announcing my retirement. Roy sits far away in London and speaks through tears through choppy inhales and shuddering exhales, and on the couch in front of Jamie in Manchester, James laughs.

Jamie’s father tips his chin up and laughs, his head tipping side to side, obviously tickled to bits by what’s happening on the screen. The press conference goes on, but it’s even harder to hear now through the sound of that laughter. It’s not loud - it’s amused chuckling and not full-belly guffaws, but it may as well be blasting on surround-sound speakers for all that Jamie can hear anything else past it.

“Oh, Jamie, lad, get a load of this shite,” James says. He’s noticed his son in the doorway, waving a hand over the back of the couch and gesturing at the screen. “My, what a shame. Roy bloody Kent, going out like this. Used to be a man, that one, and look at him now. Jesus wept.”

Frozen in the doorway of the room, Jamie stares at the television screen. Guilt rises in his throat, threatening to choke him, and brings with it a whole host of other things he can’t or doesn’t want to name. This is his fault. This is all his fault.

There’s a mobile in Jamie’s hoodie pocket, and a note in the bottom of his schoolbag with a phone number on it. His fingertips itch to go and find it, to text Ted Lasso and tell him that he didn’t mean for what happened to happen. Maybe if Jamie begs him to, Ted will tell Roy that Jamie is sorry, that he’s so sorry, so fucking sorry. But he doesn’t. He can’t.

Turning and looking over his shoulder, James must see something in Jamie’s face that he hadn’t been able to hide - not that he was thinking clearly enough to try just at the moment. When he speaks, James’s voice has climbed into a mocking register, pitchy and singsonging with ridicule.

“Aw, what, is wee little Junior gonna get all weepy about that sad old has-been?” A sharp snort of laughter punctuates a rhetorical question that drips with casual, habitual scorn. “Hey, I mean, at least he was something. More than you can say.”

Beyond the thick and shuddering mass of emotion already packing Jamie’s chest too bursting there’s no room for anything more. The insulting reference to his own injury, the one that had ended his career before it began, doesn’t even make his surgically repaired knee throb with phantom pain the way it usually would have done. Jamie just keeps staring at the telly, watching Beard join Roy on-screen to field questions from reporters, ignoring his dad entirely.

Even fixed as he is on the programme, though, Jamie can’t help but track the man’s movements when he rises. James moves in his peripheral vision, always the most important thing to watch in any room, walking towards the hall and directly by Jamie. As he walks past, he reaches out and scuffs his hand through his son’s hair. It’s rough and abrupt, a mockery of affection that knocks Jamie off-balance and into the wall. There’s only the faintest echo of almost-pain but the adrenaline it spikes down his spine is as if he’s been shot all the same.

Once James is gone, Jamie doesn’t move. He knows that he should, that he should go back to his room or leave the house or do anything else, but he can’t. All he can do is stand there with his heart thudding hard in his chest and the crushing sense that he is all alone in the world and he fucking deserves it suffocating from the inside out while he stares at Roy’s face on the telly and wonders what the fuck is wrong with him.

[stemlyns]

Podcast - GoodSam App Update with Mark Wilson at LTC

The latest St Emlyn's podcast - an interview with Matt Hooper recorded at the London Trauma Conference about compassionate resuscitation and some of the lessons we can learn in Emergency Medicine from the world of palliative care.

Listening time: 17.03 Synopsis In this episode of the St Emlyn’s podcast, hosts Iain Beardsell and Natalie May are joined by neurosurgeon and Air Ambulance Doctor Mark Wilson at the London Trauma Conference. Mark reflects on the evolution of the GoodSAM app over the past decade, from its initial focus on impact brain apnoea and cardiac arrest responses to its current extensive applications in…

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 10.17

Holidays

Big Yellow Hat Day

Black Poetry Day

Coast Guard Day (Philippines)

Day of Dignity (Bolivia)

Dessalines Day (Haiti) [also 9.20]

Digital Society Day (India)

Edge Day (Straight Edge movement)

Eggplant Day (French Republic)

Feminists Day

Festival of Hengest (Asatru)

Forgive an Ex Day

Gaudy Day (a.k.a. Wear Something Gaudy Day)

Geoffrey Day (Toys R Us)

Geoscience for Everyone Day

Global Day Against Pain

Global Maker Day

The Great Shake Out Earthquake Preparedness Day (at 10:17 a.m.)

International Day For the Eradication of Poverty (UN)

International Donnie Day

International Roller Skating Day

International Sawfish Day

Kanname-Sai Harvest Festival (Japan)

Legalization Day (Canada)

Loyalty Day (Argentina)

Megan Meier Day

Mulligan Day

National Ass Day

National Body Confidence Day

National Catholic Men’s Conference Day

National Edge Day (UK)

National Geographic Day

National Hicatee Day (Belize)

National Light Day

National Lighting Day

National Nursery Practitioner Day (UK)

National Opossum Day

National Playing Card Collection Day

National Police Day (a.k.a. Wan Tamruat; Thailand)

National Sweetest Day

National Teen Arrive Alice Day

National Transfer Student Day

National Vehophobia Awareness Day

Paint A Mural On A Sidewalk Day

Pay Back a Friend Day

Primary Care Physician Day (Russia)

Shatta Wale Appreciation Day (Ghana)

Spreadsheet Day

Women in Military Service for American Memorial Day

Work On Your Charisma Day

World Geothermal Energy Day

World Poverty Day

World Trauma Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Cake Decorating Day

Chivita World Juice Day (Nigeria)

Four Prunes Day

International Real Vanilla Day

National Pasta Day

Independence & Related Days

Empire of the United States of America (Declared by Emperor Norton; 1859) [unrecognized]

Onopolissia (Declared; 2022) [unrecognized]

Stigistan (Declared; 2008; since dissolved) [unrecognized]

3rd Thursday in October

Alternative Fuel Day [3rd Thursday]

Conflict Resolution Day [3rd Thursday]

Get Smart About Credit Day [3rd Thursday]

Get To Know Your Customers Day [3rd Thursday of each Quarter]

Global Peer Support Celebration Day [3rd Thursday]

International Credit Union Day [3rd Thursday]

International ShakeOut Day [3rd Thursday]

National Do Not Disturb While Driving [3rd Thursday]

National NJCAA Day [3rd Thursday]

Plastics Thursday (Canada) [3rd Thursday]

Purple Thursday (a.k.a. Wear Purple for Domestic Violence Awareness Day) [Thursday of 3rd Full Week]

Spirit Day [3rd Thursday]

Theater Thursday [3rd Thursday of Each Month]

Thirsty Thursday [Every Thursday]

Three for Thursday [Every Thursday]

Thrift Store Thursday [Every Thursday]

Throwback Thursday [Every Thursday]

Turkey Thursday [3rd Thursday of Each Month]

Wear Purple to Stop Bullying Day [Thursday of 3rd Full Week]

World Values Day [3rd Thursday]

Weekly Holidays beginning October 17 (2nd Full Week of October)

Food & Drug Interactions and Awareness Week (thru 10.24)

Festivals Beginning October 17, 2024

Baku International Jazz Festival (Baku, Azerbaijan) [thru 10.27]

British Urban Film Festival (London, United Kingdom.) [thru 10.25]

Global Produce & Floral Show (Atlanta, Georgia) [thru 10.19]

Grand Tasting in Midtown (Atlanta, Georgia)

International Rice Festival (Crowley, Louisiana) [thru 10.20]

Kohler Food & Wine (Kohler, Wisconsin) [thru 10.20]

La Fête du Champagne (New York, New York) [& 10.22-26]

LUSCA Caribbean International Fantastic Film Fest (Mayagüez, Puerto Rico) [thru 10.23]

Michigan Apple Crunch (East Lansing, Michigan)

Mountain State Apple Harvest Festival (Martinsburg, West Virginia) [thru 10.20]

New York City Wine & Food Festival (New York, New York) [thru 10.20]

New York Comic Con (New York, New York) [thru 10.20]

New York Wine Experience (New York, New York) [thru 10.19]

North Carolina State Fair (Raleigh, North Carolina) [thru 10.27]

São Paulo International Film Festival (São Paulo, Brazil) [thru 10.30]

Texas Rose Festival (Tyler, Texas) [thru 10.20]

Vienna International Film Festival [Viennale] (Vienna, Austria) [thru 10.29]

Warsaw Beer Festival (Warsaw, Poland) [thru 10.19]

Feast Days

Adele Stimmel Chase (Artology)

Adolphe-Félix Cals (Artology)

Aequinoctium Autumnale VII (Pagan)

Andrew of Crete (Christian; Saint)

Anstrudis (Christian; Saint)

Arthur Miller (Writerism)

Audry (a.k.a. Etheldreda), Abbess of Ely (Christian; Saint)

Bartolommeo Bandinelli (Artology)

Bum Biting Day (Pastafarian)

Canaletto (Artology)

Catervus (Christian; Saint)

C. C. van Asch van Wijck (Artology)

Childe Hassam (Artology)

Cristofano Allori (Artology)

Dean Martin & Jerry Lewis Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Doburoku Matsuri (Sake Festival; Shirahigetawara Shrine, Japan) [Day 1]

Ethelred and Ethelberht (Christian; Saints)

Florentius of Orange (Christian; Saint)

François-Isidore Gagelin (Christian; One of the Vietnamese Martyrs)

Franz Xaver Feuchtmayer the Younger (Artology)

Full Moon [10th of the Year] (a.k.a. ... 

Blackberry Moon (Choctaw)

Blood Moon (England, Neo-Pagan, Wicca)

Boun Ok Phansa (Laos; end of Buddhist Lent)

Dying Moon (Alternate)

Freezing Moon (Traditional)

Harvest Moon (Amer. Indian, Celtic, Cherokee, North America)

Hunter’s Moon (Amer. Indian, Colonial , Traditional)

Ice Moon (Traditional)

Kindly Moon (China)

Kojagrat Purnima (Nepal)

Migrating Moon (Traditional)

Seed Moon (South Africa)

Southern Hemisphere: Egg, Fish, Pink, Seed, Waking

Thadingyut Full Moon (Myanmar)

Travel Moon (Alternate)

Vap Full Moon Poya Day (Sri Lanka)

Hedwiges (a.k.a. Avoice), Duchess of Poland (Christian; Saint)

Hosea (Christian; Saint)

Ignatius of Antioch (Christian; Saint)

Irene di Spilimbergo (Artology)

Jerry Siegel (Artology)

Jesús Reyes Ferreira (Artology)

John the Short (a.k.a. John Colobus; Christian; Saint)

Large Faeries Come First Day (Shamanism)

Locke (Positivist; Saint)

Luis Alberto Solari (Artology)

Madeline (Muppetism)

Marguerite Marie Alacoque (Visitadines; Christian; Saint)

Megan Meier Day (Australia)

Nothhelm (Christian; Saint)

Randall Monroe (Humanism)

Regulus (Christian; Saint)

Rule of Andrew (Christian; Saint)

Richard Gwyn (Christian; Saint)

Robert Jordan (Writerism)

St. Audrey’s Day Fair (Original Tawdry Fair; Isle of Ely, UK)

Victor of Capua (Christian; Saint)

World Pasta Day (Pastafarian)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Lucky Day (Philippines) [56 of 71]

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Unfortunate Day (Pagan) [49 of 57]

Premieres

Africa Squeaks (Ub Iwerks Flip the Frog MGM Cartoon; 1931)

Angels in the Outfield (Film; 1951)

Around the World in 80 Days (Film; 1956)

Batman vs. Two-Face (WB Animated Film; 2017)

Before the Mayflower: A History of Black America, by Lerone Bennett Jr. (History Book; 1964)

Birdman (Film; 2014)

The Black Stallion (Film; 1979)

The Book of Life (Animated Film; 2014)

The Book of Mirdad, by Mikhail Naimy (Spiritual Book; 1948)

Bosko the Doughboy (WB LT Cartoon; 1931)

Buddy the Detective (WB LT Cartoon; 1934)

Bullitt (Film; 1968)

The Colbert Report (TV Series; 2005)

The Color of Money (Film; 1986)

Connections (UK Documentary Series; 1978)

The Crab with the Golden Claws, by Hergé (Graphic Novel; 1941) [Tintin #9]

The Devil’s Advocate (Film; 1997)

Earl and Water Don’t Mix or Next Time, Take the Drain (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S3, Ep. 118; 1961)

Easy Peckin’s (WB LT Cartoon; 1953)

A Feast for Crows, by George R.R. Martin (Novel; 2005) [A Song of Fire and Ice #4]

The Frozen North (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1941)

Fury (Film; 2014)

Go Snow, Parts 1 & 2 (Underdog Cartoon, S1, Eps. 5 & 6; 1964)

Great Guns (Ub Iwerks Alice & Oswald Disney Cartoon; 1927)

Hair (Musical Play; 1967)

Hollywood Picnic (Color Rhapsody Cartoon; 1937)

I Know What You Did Last Summer (Film; 1997)

I Want to Hold Your Hand, recorded by The Beatles (Song; 1963)

Jailhouse Rock (Film; 1957)

Led Zeppelin: Celebration Day (Music Documentary Film; 2012)

Loudermilk (TV Series; 2017)

The Magic Fish (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1934)

The Man Who Watched Trains Go By, by Georges Simenon (Novel; 1938)

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (Film; 1939)

The Naked Ape, by Desmond Morris (Anthropology Book; 1967)

RCA (Electronics and Communications Company; 1919)

The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, by William L. Shirer (History Book; 1960)

The River, by Bruce Springsteen (Album; 1980)

Rue Britannia, Part 1 (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S3, Ep. 117; 1961)

’Salem’s Lot, by Stephen King (Novel; 1975)

The Seagull, by Anton Chekov (Play; 1896)

Selena, by Selena (Album; 1989)

The Sensual World, by Kate Bush (Album; 1989)

Shake Your Powder Puff (WB MM Cartoon; 1934)

Spinout (Film; 1966)

Storm Front, by Billy Joel (Album; 1989)

Street Survivors, by Lynyrd Skynyrd (Album; 1977)

Stuart Little, by E.B. White (Children’s Book; 1945)

Tarzan (Animated Film; 2013)

Through the Looking Glass (Adult Film; 1977)

Travelers (TV Series; 2016)

12x5, by The Rolling Stones (Album; 1964)

Two Little Indians (Tom & Jerry Cartoon; 1953)

The Weirdstone of Brisingamen, by Alan Garner (Novel; 1960)

Today’s Name Days

Anselm, Ignatius, Rudolf (Austria)

Ignacije, Vatroslav (Croatia)

Hedvika (Czech Republic)

Floretinus (Denmark)

Vesta, Veste (Estonia)

Saaga, Saana, Saini (Finland)

Baudouin, Solène (France)

Adelheid, Marie-Louise, Rudolf (Germany)

Hedvig (Hungary)

Ignazio (Italy)

Gaitis, Gaits, Karīna, Karola, Vita (Latvia)

Gytė, Kintautas, Marijonas (Lithuania)

Marta, Marte (Norway)

Lucyna, Małgorzata, Marian, Sulisława, Wiktor, Wiktoriusz (Poland)

Osea (Romania)

Veronica (Russia)

Hedviga (Slovakia)

Ignacio (Spain)

Antonia, Toini (Sweden)

Brad, Braden, Bradford, Bradley, Brady, Braeden, Brayden, Braydon, Rodolfo, Rudi, Rudolf, Rudolph, Rudolphine, Rudy (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 291 of 2024; 75 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 4 of Week 42 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Gort (Ivy) [Day 19 of 28]

Chinese: Month 9 (Jia-Xu), Day 15 (Jia-Yin)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 15 Tishri 5785

Islamic: 13 Rabi II 1446

J Cal: 21 Orange; Seventhday [21 of 30]

Julian: 4 October 2024

Moon: 100%: Full Moon

Positivist: 11 Descartes (11th Month) [Mme. De Lambert / Vauvenargues]

Runic Half Month: Gyfu (Gift) [Day 11 of 15]

Season: Autumn or Fall (Day 26 of 90)

Week: 2nd Full Week of October

Zodiac: Libra (Day 25 of 30)

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: June 14/24

Happy Friday, everyone! Let's start off the weekend with 5 more fics that I've been suggested recently! Enjoy!!

SIGNAL BOOSTING

the first time, a second time around by JustStandingHere(M, 24,267+ w., 4/? Ch. || WiP || HLV Divergence, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Lucid Dreaming, Mind Ghosts, Drug Use) – While resting and recuperating, Sherlock lucid dreams. John ruminates. In the meantime, two unconnected men have died in eerily similar ways in completely separate parts of London. It's a welcome distraction.

RECENT SHERLOCK BOOKMARKS

Non-Toxic by NinjaNina2 (M, 1,713 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Parentlock with Rosie, Established Relationship, Oneshot, Stubborn Sherlock, Worried John, Doctor John, Fluff and Humour, Misunderstandings)  – Based on previous experiences, John has every right to be worried when gone for a medical conference, but what is the extent of damage This time…?!?

RECENT MFLs

The first time I ever saw your face by Vanimelda4 (G, 2,164 w., 1 Ch. || 1895 Victorian AU / TABlock || PODFIC AVAILABLE || POV Sherlock, Fluff and Angst, Meta Fic) – "Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while."

Not My Area by LipstickDaddy (G, 4,319 w., 1 Ch. || Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Feelings Realization, Oblivious John, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Bed Sharing, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending) – Growing bored of John’s revolving door of girlfriends, Sherlock decides to see what all the fuss is about— with interesting consequences.

One Last Time by Hobbitsfeet & Tindomerelhloni (E, 239,696+ w., 58/70 Ch. || WiP || Alternate Universe || Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Fake Death, Trauma, Therapy, Healing, Angst with Happy Ending) – While Sherlock Watson is allowed to believe that his husband, John Watson, is dead, John is secretly fighting to keep his husband and their children safe from an assassin. This is the story of that fight, of John returning home, and the aftermath of discovering not everything was as he left it and the challenges they both face to get their lives straight again. Part 2 of What's Past is Prologue

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Hello lovelyyyy how are you 🤎

For the ask game, how about 6, 12, 24, 31 ? idk what’s been asked/answered yet but thought I’d drop in!

hi lynn!! i'm doing ok, anxiety's a little up because of school but that's not new skdfjdk just chilling and probably playing sims for the rest of the night :3 i hope your weekend went well!

i answered 31 here! 💞

send me some nosy asks!

6. describe your dream home

i'm thinking a cottage in the middle of nowhere tbh 😭😭 and i think its bc i'm so sick of living in the city, like i wanna be able to go outside on my own past dark without fearing for my life

12. what’s one of your fantasies?

i'm not gonna go into dark content territory LMAO and also probably not being delulu with levi because we already know all about that 😂 not to trauma dump but i sometimes think about the romanticized college lifestyle that i probably would've had if things hadn't gone to shit and i find myself occasionally fantasizing about it 😭 like classmates around me are embracing the party lifestyle and it gives me fomo 😔

24. what are three places you want to travel?

well, husband and i just solidified a trip to greece!! so that's on my list right now LMAO he has a research conference and i'm tagging along and am really excited since i haven't left the country since i was 7-8 as for the other two places?? 🤔 i'd like to go to japan for sure! def tokyo and probably yokohama too (definitely not because of bsd LMAO kdjflskjdf) i also wanna go to london probably! i was following a lot of youtubers from the UK when i was in high school so i've always wanted to visit ☺️

[24worldnewsnet]

national investigation into NHS maternity services has been launched by the government.The announcement comes after Health Secretary Wes Streeting met families who have lost babies and amid the ongoing investigations at some NHS trusts into maternity care failings. The investigation in England is intended to provide truth to families suffering harm, as well as driving urgent improvements to care and safety, as part of efforts to ensure "no parent or baby is ever let down again".Politics latest: Farage unveils 'Britannia Card' in latest tax policyThe Royal College of Midwives (RCM) welcomed the government's announcement and said maternity services were "at, or even beyond, breaking point". Last week, the NHS regulator said maternity and neonatal services at two Leeds hospitals had been rated inadequate over safety issues.Mr Streeting, who was speaking at the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists (RCOG) conference in London, apologised on behalf of the NHS for what families had been through and said it was "clear something is going wrong".He added: "For the past year, I have been meeting bereaved families from across the country who have lost babies or suffered serious harm during what should have been the most joyful time in their lives."What they have experienced is devastating - deeply painful stories of trauma, loss, and a lack of basic compassion - caused by failures in NHS maternity care that should never have happened. "Their bravery in speaking out has made it clear: we must act - and we must act now."Mr Streeting said families have had to "fight for truth and justice" and had described being "ignored, gaslit, lied to, manipulated and damaged further by the inability for a trust to simply be honest with them that something has gone wrong".The investigation will consist of two parts. Image: Wes Streeting speaking during the RCOG conference. Pic: PA The first will investigate up to 10 of the most concerning maternity and neonatal units, including Sussex, in the coming weeks to give affected families answers as quickly as possible, according to the Department of Health.The second will be a "system-wide" look at maternity and neonatal care, uniting lessons from past inquiries to create one clear set of actions designed to improve NHS care.A National Maternity and Neonatal Taskforce will be chaired by Mr Streeting and made up of experts and bereaved families.The investigation will begin this summer and report back by December. Please use Chrome browser for a more accessible video player 2:02 From 2024: 'The joy was sucked out of having a baby' Sir Jim Mackey, chief executive of NHS England, said: "This rapid national investigation must mark a line in the sand for maternity care - setting out one set of clear actions for NHS leaders to ensure high quality care for all."Dr Ranee Thakar, president of the RCOG, said: "The maternity workforce is on its knees, with many now leaving the profession."Read more from Sky News:GPs can start prescribing weight loss jabs on NHSStunning images show new 'peek of cosmos' RCM chief executive Gill Walton said: "Everyone involved in maternity services - the midwifery community, obstetricians, anaesthetists, sonographers and, of course, the women and families in their care - knows that maternity services are at, or even beyond, breaking point."This renewed focus and commitment by the health secretary to deliver change is welcome, and we will do everything we can to support him in doing so."

[itsrattysworld]

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Refer to Noise complaints Print On this page What is a noise report? Reporting noise to your landlord How your landlord should respond to reports of noise Making a complaint about the handling of a noise report When can the Ombudsman help with a noise complaint You might also be interested in What is a noise report? A report about noise is made to your landlord when noise disturbs or…