#Best laptop for nursing School

[lovexjoe]

PENPALS Part 2

You and Armando talked every single day for 2 months straight until he asked you to visit. He didn’t want to make you feel rushed and always want to reassure you that he just genuinely enjoys your company. Falling for you along the way was a bonus. You were such a smart girl, graduating nursing school soon and going on to bigger and better things. He questioned sometimes if he was worthy enough for you. He also questioned if you had twisted parts to you as well cause who would really try to message a criminal like him.

You agreed to seeing him along with bringing him a special gift. He was in Central Florida aka Tampa. You headed inside the prison going through the check ins and pat downs. You didn’t have time to change your nurse scrubs so you sucked it up. The guard lets you know where he’s sitting at waiting for you. He was in a decent prison, one that actually lets you see and touch your loved ones under surveillance of course. You were nervous. You saw him from the doorway and it’s like you two were connected because he looked up from his hands to you.

“Hey handsome,” You give him your beautiful smile and he swore he could probably melt in his seat right there. He pulls you in for a hug. His arms were strong, you felt his muscles under the orange jumpsuit and it made your stomach do a flip.

“Thank you for coming mami. Tell me how was your day” he holds your hand and was completely absorbed with hearing about your life on the outside world. You were graduating soon and you’re most likely moving to Miami since most of your family is down there. He was happy for you, but sad that these visits will come to an end.

After chatting it up for an hour, it was time to say your goodbyes. You slipped him his gift and he gives you a smirk having a bit of a inkling of what it could be.

He pulls you in for another hug.

“Please take care of yourself ….” You worry about him. You noticed the busted knuckles he had probably from getting into fights.

“I’ll do my best.” You stood there looking into each others eyes and Armando couldn’t help himself any longer. He pulls you in for a kiss and you were in fact…. in love with a criminal. The guards lead you out and you couldn’t help the smile on your face. You got it bad and so did he.

The video chats didn’t do him justice he was beyond handsome….and a killer.

The visit was definitely the highlight of your day. His hands felt so good around your waist. You knew he’d enjoy those Polaroids during night hours. The feeling of his lips still linger on yours. When you got home you sent him a message that he could wake up to in the morning.

“I can’t even explain how happy I was to see you. Armando I’m falling for you”

You press send and immediately closed your laptop and placed it as far away from you as possible. You know when you send a risky text and you chuck your phone across the room? Yea try a risky email to a prisoner who won’t see it for another 10 hours.

Armando went back to his cell a happy man. He took the Polaroids out of his pocket and immediately he smiled. You truly were everything he could dream of. These pictures were simple pics of you that you took while out and then one…..one definitely caught his attention. You were in a black lingerie set, judging the way your scrubs fit you he knew you looked amazing underneath. This Polaroid confirmed it. It was hard to rub one out in prison when you’re surrounded by men, but tonight….you were the only thing on his mind. The only thing that brought him pleasure.

*2 weeks later*

Armando didn’t answer your messages at all. Every time you called to speak with him they said he wasn’t taking any calls or visits. You were worried something happened to him, but what if he simply just didn’t want to speak to you? You were already in Miami with your family, but you would make the drive just to see him again. You prayed for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The very next day after the visit Armando was attacked in prison due to him knowing who McGrath was. He wasn’t allowed access to anything. He yearned to hear your voice. He was losing his mind. He kept your polaroids on him because he looks at them when he needs some hope. After two weeks Mike and Marcus convinced Rita to get Armando transferred to Miami and that brings them to the current time.

“Alright let’s make this quick y’all my daughter just graduated nursing school and she’s back home” Marcus said cheerfully

“You excited to see Y/N or you excited to land and get some skittles?” Mike joked

Armando stood there trying to process what the fuck he just heard.

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95 @ebsmind @hopetookourvibe @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @poppetbaby02 @bitchyglittersuit @marley1773

[blood-and-pizza]

Notable Details from the original "Into The Pit" story (PART 1)

Upon the mill's closure, Oswald's dad works part-time at the deli counter in a store called the Snack Space (a 7-11 equivalent, basically), which requires a red vest as their uniform. Oswald is embarrassed by the fact his dad is wearing the vest as he drops him off at school. Just a neat bit of world-building.

Oswald has a best friend named Ben who moved into the next town over.

Oswald's bullies, including Dylan Cooper, call him "Oswald the Ocelot" after a cartoon character they saw as pre-schoolers, a big pink ocelot named Oswald. Again, more world-building.

Oswald is described as having freckles and a cowlick in the original story.

Oswald has no modern electronics in his home, save for one laptop he shares with his family. His phone is an outdated model he's embarrassed by.

Oswald's teacher, Mrs. Meecham, puts on a movie for her class on the last day of school, which is described as "about a farm with talking animals", "too babyish for a roomful of fifth graders". I'm guessing they might have been watching the animated adaptation of Charlotte's Web... or it could be wishful thinking on my part, since I love that movie.

Oswald has been drawing mechanical animals ("bears, bunnies, and birds") for reasons even he doesn't know, other than lack of anything better to do when he's bored.

Oswald's mom works at the hospital from 12PM to 12AM... yikes.

Oswald's dad can't cook to save his life. If it can't be boiled in water or heated in a microwave, he has to buy his meals... how relatable.

Blue-box macaroni and cheese exists in FNAF, meaning Kraft and its products likely exist, too. Just thought that was funny for some reason.

Oswald's dad squirts ketchup into his mac and cheese. I just think knowing he's the kind of dad who does that is really funny... kinda reminds me of my stepdad's love of ketchup, to be honest.

Other pizzerias that once existed in Oswald's town were Gino's Pizza and Marco's Pizza, both of which closed not long after the mill closed. Both Gino's and Marco's are described as good restaurants, while the food at Jeff's Pizza is described as "decent".

Oswald is into B-grade Japanese horror films, including kaiju movies like Zendrelix vs. Mechazendrelix. Zendrelix is apparently FNAF's answer to Godzilla, making Mechazendrelix an equivalent to Mechagodzilla. They're described like this: "... Zendrelix just looked like a giant dragon thing, but Mechazendrelix reminded him [Oswald] of the mechanical animals he drew when he stripped them of their fur." Zendrelix is also described as being portrayed by "a guy in a rubber suit", solidifying the connection between him and Godzilla.

Oswald and his dad both really love bacon. I just thought that was cute.

When Oswald visits the library, a place he finds "actually kinda fun", he shows interest in a science fiction book from a series, as well as a manga he liked. Based, IMHO.

The library Oswald visits frequently allows homeless people to use their computers and other resources. WE NEED LIBRARIES AND THIS IS EXACTLY ONE REASON WHY!

Oswald's mom, being a nurse, is a bit of a germaphobe and won't let Oswald play in places she considers dirty. A ball pit would be considered one such place.

The pizza Jeff serves comes in huge slices too big for the paper plates they're served on, and very greasy. As someone who was born in NYC and used to eat greasy New York pizza... I think I would have liked eating at Jeff's. Maybe.

Oswald reads a library book while visiting Jeff's Pizza, about "a world where kids with secret powers went to a special school to learn how to fight evil". I wonder how many books that describes...

Oswald plays an online fantasy game at the library that's free to play, but Oswald gets to a point where he can't progress without money. I wonder what game it could have been...

Oswald's dad and mom used to date in high school, often frequenting a roller rink, and are great skaters as a result. Oswald himself can't skate and needs his parents to hold him up.

Oswald's dad only ever buys vanilla ice cream.

There's a video rental service Oswald's family uses called Red Box, but I don't know if it's meant to be the same as the actual existing Redbox. Maybe it is?

Oswald's mom is very good at playing Clue... oh, and Clue exists in the FNAF universe.

Oswald's dad prefers practical effects over CGI in movies. Oswald is the exact opposite.

Oswald's dad is a fan of country music. Oswald... is not.

[opossum-rights]

The Way Things Happen

After being caught in a villain attack, your life is intertwined with those of the aspiring heroes that saved you.

<< Prologue - Next Part >>

Word Count, 3.5k

“How are we feeling? Your medication should’ve started kicking in by now,” says a nurse as she goes about conducting your checkup.

“I feel fine.” You give her the thumbs up, not really looking for any conversation. You appreciate how nice the nurses assigned to you are, but you think that’s partly because your parents haven’t visited other than to do paperwork, so they feel bad for you. They were always pretty distant, so you don’t mind them not showing up.

“Alright then, you know what button to press if you need anything.” She scribbles something down on her clipboard and leaves you be.

Back to staring at the ceiling again.

It was about a week after the incident and you were still in the hospital. You’re not sure what’s worse, the dull ache that washes over your body if you so much as squirm, or the boredom you’re faced with everyday. For a while, you were too out of it to realize how stuffy it was being stuck in a hospital bed, but after being taken off the stronger painkillers they had you on, you found yourself staring at the wall more often than not.

A classmate of yours brought your laptop, books, and some other things from your dorm to keep you entertained during your stay. They didn’t help much.

Looking at any type of artificial light for too long makes your head hurt, thanks to your concussion, and everytime you pick up a book you find your attention drifting before finishing the page.

You think it’s the lack of scenery and social interaction that’s making you go stir-crazy the most. Apart from that one classmate, you had no other visitors. The day after you got here a basket arrived from Best Jeanist’s agency, filled with treats and flowers and a card signed by your coworkers.

It makes you sad to think that by the time you’re discharged from the hospital, work studies will be over and it’s back to school. Though it’s nice to know that someone’s thinking of you.

There’s a knock at the door. You tell the person it’s okay to come in as you glance at the clock on the wall. It isn't the time they usually bring you dinner.

“Delivery!” A nurse enthusiastically calls out. You sit up, curious.

In her hands is another ‘get well’ basket, only instead of the sweets in the one you received from your colleagues, this one seems to have some over-the-counter medicine along with some other basic medical supplies, and what looks like a bag of takeout. Taking a closer look at the bag you realize it’s from a restaurant near the U.A. campus; a popular hang-out spot for students, especially after the move into the dorms.

“Who’s that from?” You ask, reaching out to grab it. The nurse shrugged.

“I’m not sure, it was dropped off at the front desk. Receptionist said it was a couple of U.A. boys. Maybe some classmates?”

You try to think of who it might be, but a single name can’t come to mind. You aren’t close with any of your classmates, even considering the one who grabbed your stuff only an acquaintance. Not that you particularly dislike any of them. It’s just that most have that ‘business student attending a prestigious school’ vibe.

“Well, whoever put this together definitely put some thought into it. Maybe they’ll come back.” The nurse sees your bewildered expression. She reminds you how much time there is until your next dosage of medication, then walks out and gently shuts the door behind her.

Despite how confused you are, the takeout has you feeling more upbeat than you’ve been in days. If you’re honest, any other non-hospital food would’ve brought out the same reaction.

You look inside the bag to see a little card on top of the containers. It’s plain white, ‘Get Well Soon’ printed on the front. In your hand, it’s a little warm from the food. On the other side of it is a brief handwritten note.

‘Hi there! I’m not sure if you remember, but we’re the ones who found you after the building collapsed. We’re relieved to hear that you’re doing okay! Always glad to help fellow U.A. student!’

Under the message are three signatures: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, and Todoroki Shouto. Going by handwriting, Midoriya was the one who wrote the message. You sort of remember them.

You smile to yourself as you place the card on the bedside table. No longer able to resist the smell, you dig into the takeout bag. What they got were safe choices, in other words kinda plain and not what you would’ve picked, but after days of hospital food, you’re about ready to cry from the flavor.

After you're finished, full and satisfied, you go to toss the bag away when you see a thin white sheet of paper. A receipt from the restaurant. Bakugou was apparently the one who bought it.

He must’ve ordered it from his phone, then gone to pick it up, going by a cell phone number listed. Would it be an invasion of privacy to call or text to thank him?

You decide to sit on it. Looking through the rest of the basket, you find over-the-counter pain relievers, an electric heating pad, some ointments, and some other minor things.

You’re flattered, to say the least.

This sways your decision to reach out, grabbing your phone and the receipt.

‘Hi, this is the student from the hospital. Thank you all so much for saving me and buying me stuff! Food was good.’

You’re not sure exactly what to type, so you decide on something short. Almost immediately after setting your phone in your lap, it pings to let you know you got a response.

‘You better be grateful.’

Huh, not what you were expecting.

‘I really am! The supplies are definitely going to make the next week I’m stuck here more bearable. Tell your friends I said thanks!’

‘Those two dumbasses aren’t my friends’

Ok, you’re getting a better idea of who this kid is. Now that you think about it, wasn’t he the one who had to be muzzled at the sports festival? You’re kinda surprised they let him into the hero course.

Not sure what to say to that, you set your phone down and go back to digging through the basket. All the while, a warm feeling in your chest.

…

It’s a couple of days later, and you’re still holding onto the feeling that popped up knowing those boys thought of you. Truthfully you expect nothing else. What they’ve done for you is more than enough. So it’s definitely a surprise when a nurse slides into your room saying that you have a visitor; a U.A. boy named Midoriya.

You tell her to send him in. Quickly, after she leaves the room, you sit up and brush your hair down. It’s the first time you’ve seen anyone but a nurse in a week, and you’ll admit you haven’t been putting as much thought into your appearance since you got here.

“Um, hello. Is this the right room?” The green-haired boy, who you now know is Midoriya Izuku, nervously steps into the room.

“Y-yeah, it is.” You mentally groan at your awkward response, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.

“It’s great to properly meet you! I’m Midoriya Izuku,” he says with a genuine smile on his face. He holds up another takeout bag in his hand.

“Kacchan, er-Bakugou said you liked the food he picked up last time, so I grabbed you some more.”

“You really didn’t have to, but thank you so much!” You properly introduce yourself, returning his enthusiasm, and gesture to a seat on the side of your bed.

“Since you’re here, let me pay you back at least.” You reach over the other side of your bed to grab your backpack on the floor.

“No, no you really don’t have to!” He shoots his hands up and rapidly shakes his head.

“If you’re sure…” you trail off. You sit back up quicker than you should’ve and feel a slight pain in your ribs. It must show on your face because Midoriya leans closer and looks you over.

“All you alright? Should I call a nurse?” You hurriedly tell him no, that you just moved too fast.

“Still not used to being so fragile,” you painfully chuckle and wave a hand at your leg.

He focuses on your leg, brows furrowing and seeming to be lost in thought. You feel your cheeks warm at the attention, and you ask the first thing that pops into your head to distract him.

“Do you wanna sign it?”

“Huh?” He turns to you with wide eyes.

“Well, you did save me after all. It’d be kinda cool having the autograph of a future pro hero. You can consider me one of your first fans.” Saying this makes him light up.

You grab a marker from your bedside table left by one of the nurses and hand it to him. He stutters out a ‘thank you’ and signs his hero name in neat characters in the space just over your knee.

“Deku, huh? I’ll be sure to remember it.”

After that conversation comes more easily. Both you and him seem more easygoing than when he first arrived. You chat about school, your respective courses, who you’re working under, and even more. Soon a nurse sticks her head in to announce that visiting hours are ending soon.

“Again, thank you for stopping by. Talking with you has been the most fun I’ve had in a while.” Your gratitude makes him blush as he bashfully scratches the back of his neck.

“Really, it’s no trouble at all. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since the incident. You seemed pretty frightened, so I wanted to check up on you.” Now it’s your turn for your face to warm up. You smile at each other.

“Would you mind if I came to visit you again?” He asks as he stands from his seat.

“Of course not, just no more buying me anything. Here,” you grab a napkin from the takeout bag, still sitting unopened, and scribble down your number. He takes it with a smile, and then soon enough he’s out the door.

Deku; you know for a fact that in ten years you’ll be hearing his name in the news all the time.

…

The next day rolls around and you’re in a way better mood than previously. Midoriya had texted wondering how you were, and you even made plans for him to visit later in the week. The uptick in your mood must’ve been obvious, as even the nurses were commenting on it. They were happy to see you so happy.

After your recent checkup, the doctor said that your concussion was healing nicely enough for you to watch some TV, but to turn it off the second your head starts to ache.

That’s where you are right now, getting caught up on the dramas you missed. In fact, you’re so into it that you don’t notice the loud footsteps stomping down the hallway.

You’re leaning in, anticipating the moment the lead confesses her love when your door blows open like an explosion took place in the hallway.

You jump away, watching as a spiky-haired blond boy walks in without saying anything. Again, in a U.A. uniform. It doesn’t take much thinking for you to piece together that this is Bakugou Katsuki.

“What?” He spits out when he sees you staring.

“Uh, what do you mean ‘what’? This is my room,” you point from yourself to the door. He looks at you like you’re an idiot.

“I know that, dumbass. I’m here to give you this.” He stomps up and thrusts a piece of paper at you.

You cautiously glance at him as you take it. You continue to look at him with it in your hand.

“Read it,” he grunts out, moving to the chair next to your bed.

You shrug at him then look at it. It’s a letter from Principal Nezu confirming that due to being injured from no fault of your own, you won’t need to make up for your missed time on your work study nor will you have any extra assignments. There’s even a note at the bottom from Best Jeanist, saying that what happened was tragic and that you’re welcome back to his agency the next time work studies roll around.

You’re touched, and it must show on your face as you hear a scoff from the boy next to you. You’ll be honest, you forgot he was there. Something else you forget was the harsh movements you made when he barged in. A dull pain sets in your leg, and you squirm around to try and get more comfortable.

“What happened?” He’s quieter now, though his words still have a bite to them.

“I just moved too harshly. I’m fine,” you say, and he gives a huff. Things taper off after that. You’re not exactly sure why he stayed past giving you the note.

“Thank you for the other day. You were one of the heroes that saved me from the rubble, right?”

“Damn right, I blew it away. Neither of the other two did jack,” he smirks, pride in his voice.

“Yeah? Well, thanks for the food too. I really like that place.”

“Hospital food tastes like shit. It’ll probably make ya even worse,” he looks away when he replies.

He takes a glance at your cast, more specifically the name on it.

“Deku…” He looks pissed off.

“You want to sign it too? You’re also one of my heroes,” you say as you grab the marker and hold it out to him.

Bakugou looks startled by your offer, but only for a moment. He roughly grabs that tool from you and gets to work. He signs his hero name in big, scratchy characters right above Midoriya’s. With an upward twitch of his lips, he caps the marker and throws it back onto the table.

“Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite…” You’re not sure if you were just pranked. Seeing the disbelief on your face as you look back at him, he scowls.

“Better remember it,” he’s serious. Not wanting to piss him off even more, you move on to flattery.

“Don’t think I could. Look forward to seeing it up on the charts!” This pleases him, you think. You’re sincere when you say it.

You make small talk for the rest of his time there. It’s mostly you egging him on. You talked about class, how he’s at the top of his both in academics and strength (you have no way of knowing if that’s true), and how he interned under Best Jeanist earlier in the year, that’s why he was the one to get the note.

Eventually, a text pops up on his phone and he glances at it, scowling once he sees who it is.

“Damn hag,” he mutters as he slings his bag over his shoulder and stands.

“Don’t die,” he’s blunt as he turns back at you in the doorway.

“Not planning on it,” you reply, giving him a little wave. He stomps back out the door, slamming it shut of course. It sounds like he pauses outside, then you can hear his footsteps move down the hall back to the elevators.

He sure has a strong presence, and you know how far that’ll take him in this industry.

…

Suddenly it’s a few days later, the day you planned for Midoriya to visit. You were excited, and a bit jumpy. Even with a preset time you found yourself hopping up everytime the door opened, only to be disappointed once it’s just a nurse.

You found yourself wanting to impress him, or at least not look like you’ve been stuck in the hospital for weeks. A nurse assisted you in taking a bath, and you put on a sweater over the top of your hospital gown. You’re afraid there’s no hiding how dead your skin looks with the lack of direct sunlight.

The time ticks on. You set your eyes to the clock set high in the corner of the room and watch as the hour and minute hands place themselves where they need to be, then past.

At first you can excuse it, his train probably got delayed or there was an emergency. You really didn’t want to blame him for it. He was a hero in training, after all, he probably didn’t have time to spend with a kid in the hospital.

There’s a lock at the door. You twist around, hope being brought back.

“Come in!” You try to play it cool and keep the excitement out of your voice.

There’s a pause on the other side. The door slowly opens to show not who you were expecting. It’s a boy with two-toned hair, and two different colored eyes. This is Todoroki Shouto if you remember correctly.

“Midoriya’s in the bathroom,” he stated as he stood in the doorway. You light up and smile at him, overjoyed to hear that he hasn’t ditched you.

“Thanks for letting me know. You can sit down, if you want,” you wave a hand to the chair at your bedside.

He nods, then moves to sit. As he does, he seems to realize something and briefly introduces himself. You do the same.

You had your fair share of awkward moments when Midoriya and Bakugou first came to visit, but they both did their part in providing small talk. This boy, on the other hand, is content with being quiet. You’re more intimidated by him than you were with Bakugou.

As you try and think of something to say, you hear a murmur.

“That’s what he picked?” You glance over to see he’s staring at your leg, where his teammates have written their hero names.

“Yeah, Bakugou’s sure is… something. It does fit him, though.” He agrees with that, not saying anything else. You decide to hurry things along and grab your trusty marker, pointing it at him between your fingers. He looks at you blankly.

“Go on, the other two did. You were also there to help me. Thank you for that, by the way,” you give him a smile as you shake your hand lightly.

“I’m a hero, it’s my job. You don’t have to thank me.” He takes the marker anyway. Under your knee, he writes his name in small, neat characters. When he’s finished he caps the pen and sets it back on the table.

“Shouto? Staying true to yourself, nice.” He gives you a barely there smile, and is about to say something when the door rushes open.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! Todoroki wanted to come with when I said I was visiting,” Midoriya slightly bows as he apologizes.

“It’s fine. I have nothing else to do other than wait.” You wave him off.

Looking around, you realize the only place to sit in the room is being taken up by Todoroki. You could call a nurse, but you’d feel bad making them leave their station just for a chair. Moving your good leg more towards you, you pat at the empty space. He looks unsure of it, but you pat it harder to get the point across that it’s fine. Hesitatingly he sits on the edge of the bed, being very conscious of your cast.

You all get to talking a bit more, mostly you and Midoriya, but sometimes Todoroki’s dragged in by one of you, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.

…

As they’re getting ready to leave you call out to them.

“I know I probably said it a thousand times, but really thank you guys. If it wasn’t for you I’d be in even worse shape, or maybe dead,” you blink away tears in your eyes as you tell them. They both freeze at your expression.

Todoroki doesn’t seem like he knows what to do, but Midoriya gently places a hand on your shoulder. You place a hand over his.

“You guys are already amazing heroes.” They both are happy to hear that.

“Thank you, that means a lot to hear,” Midoriya sounds genuine, the light in his eyes warms your chest.

“So, see you later?” You let go of his hand, and he backs up to where Todoroki is by the door.

“Of course, I’ll text you when I have a free day.”

“Is it alright if I visit again?” The quiet boy speaks up. You’re surprised, but glad he seemed to have a nice time.

“Definitely, you guys are the only people I see outside of the nurses. It keeps me from going crazy.” They have a strange look flash across their faces, but quickly go back to normal and make to leave when a nurse walks in with some of your medication.

You don’t know if you can consider them friends yet, but you have a feeling these boys will stick around.

[covetyou]

y2k

moodboard and fic inspo by @psychedelic-ink main masterlist

rating: Teen (this is an 18+ blog) warnings: fluff, Joel and Sarah being domestic and cute af, swearing, Sarah being a little shit. No outbreak. word count: 876 summary: a morning in the Miller Household with our fave resident Girl Dad and his Daughter (who is a little shit affectionately).

A/N: @psychedelic-ink is having a cute lil joel miller birthday bash and i requested a silly y2k moodboard in honour of the occasion. This spawned from my brain before I could stop it. Happy Birthday, JM!

if my boss asks, i've been working super hard for the last hour and not writing this.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

Joel sat at the kitchen counter, nursing his morning coffee. It was a clear day, the heat of summer dwindling now that October was approaching. He relished these quiet moments in the mornings, just him and his world inside that house, safe and sound.

Even after 15 years though, the silence never lasted long. He was glad for it - he dreaded to think how quickly the days of silence would come and how much he would long for the noise.

As expected, footsteps thundered down the stairs.

One day that kid's goin' to bring this fuckin' house down.

"Hey Dad," Sarah says breathlessly as she sidles up to Joel. She's hiding something behind her back, and Joel well knows that look on her face by know. She's been up to something.

"Mornin' kid," he smiles. Whatever she's up to he doesn't care, seeing the best thing he ever did every morning always put a smile on his face. "What you got there?"

"I got something to show you," she bites her lip. "I made it."

Joel's heart wants to burst out of his chest. As a kid, he was always being gifted little drawings and creations - pictures of them in their house, a deranged looking cat with too many legs (a sign from Sarah that she really wanted a pet kitty - he wishes he could've said yes to her, but his allergies would never let it happen), a paper mache lump of something she'd made and painted. He kept it, but he still didn't know what it was. My babies first abstract art he'd joked at the time. It had been years since she'd made anything for him, she was more into playing with friends and sports than arts and crafts with her old man these days.

"Alright then, let's see it," he turns to face his daughter as she pulls her laptop from behind her back. It was a birthday gift this summer, and she was rarely off the damn thing - she said it made homework easier than having to use the family desktop computer, but he still didn't quite believe she didn't just use to to talk to her friends until the early hours of the morning. Still, he could never say no or be mad at her for much of anything for too long.

"And you ain't takin' that to school."

Sarah rolls her eyes. "I'm not. Look."

She points to the screen.

"I was up all night making it for you - Happy Birthday, Dad!"

It's... well. It's something else. Pictures of him (he recognized one as a picture she had taken 5 years ago) and the two of them together, all interspersed with a collection of other images he wasn't familiar with but somehow seemed to match. Joel's stomach dropped with it - if this is what his baby girl was into, maybe she'd changed more as a teen than he thought. Still, she'd made it for him. It was special.

"I... it's..." Joel was getting genuinely choked up. He didn't care what it was. He just loved that she made it for him.

"Don't you love it?" she prods his arm, grinning like a maniac.

"I do." And he did.

"The color pallette is so cute right, and this picture is my favorite." She points to a picture in the middle from a 4th of July last year - Her and Joel had gone to a neighbors house to celebrate. There'd been a bonfire. "I put filters on everything to make it more pink. It really gels it all together, don't you think?"

It was one of his favorites too. Even with... all the pink.

"It is uh, real pink, yeah," Joel says, scratching his neck. "It your new favorite color or somethin'? We need to paint your room again?"

Sarah's face drops. "I - I thought it was your favorite color, Dad." She looks devastated.

Joel is dumbstruck. What does he say. He flounders, stuttering, trying to find the words.

Suddenly, Sarah's face breaks into a shit eating grin big enough to rival Tommy's.

"I'm just fucking with you dad."

Joel's eyes snap to hers, a warning, and amusement, flashing across his face.

She holds her hands up in surrender. "Messing! I'm just messing with you."

"Well, I love it anyway. Even if you are just messin' with me," he kisses her temple and pushes her toward the door. "C'mon, lets get goin' or you're goin' to be late, and so am I."

Sarah rolls her eyes, gathers her school bag and heads for the door with Joel in tow. They both head for his truck, starting their day the same way they always do - together.

Joel stops before he reaches his truck, placing a large hand on the hood and looking over to his daughter. His - how did he get so lucky.

"Hey kid... can you send me that picture when you get home from school?"

Sarah smiles. It was a silly joke, but she's glad he loves it too. "Sure thing, Dad."

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

I think a fic where Anetra has to take care of Sasha or their kids (in wedding planner au) could be fun

Oooh, that's so precious!! (Also spot the hidden easter egg in this!)

In which Anetra has to be a nurse to a clingy toddler, a grouchy teenager, and her wife who won’t stop getting out of bed and get some fucking rest

(aka they all have the flu except for Anetra)

“Mommy, don’t go yet.”

“I’m just going to check on your sister for a minute, I’ll be right back.”

Instead of hearing an answer, Anetra felt a small, clammy hand grab onto her arm. She saw her daughter’s lip quivering and her green eyes filled with tears.

“Okay, after this episode of Bluey, and then I have to go. But just for a little bit.”

Just as Anetra laid back against the headboard in the toddler bed, she heard a voice from across the hall.

“Mom, can I have another Gatorade?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Anetra answered as she stood up and walked to the bedroom door. “Do you want anything from the kitchen, Dee? More juice or something?” She asked her toddler.

She shook her head in response, “You are coming back, Mommy?” Delia asked instead.

Anetra nodded tiredly, “Yes, I’ll be back soon.” She said as she walked backward a few steps into the hall. Just as she was turning around, she bumped into something in the hall.

Actually, it was someone.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Anetra crossed her arms as she tried blocking the rest of the hall from Sasha leaving.

Sasha coughed a few times before answering, “Kerri wanted a Gatorade so I-” she was interrupted by another coughing fit.

“Uh-huh,” Anetra answered in a bored tone. “Nice try, go back to bed and get some rest.”

“But you shouldn’t have to take care of the kids and me by yourself. Let me help you.” Sasha offered, tightening her plush robe. Her hair had been in a messy bun for two days and her nose was red and sore from all the used tissues in their bed.

“The best way to help me is to just stay in the bedroom,” Anetra said as she turned Sasha around by the shoulders.

Sasha coughed a few more times before answering, “Fine. Be sure to get the blue kind for Kerri.” before she slumped off back to the master bedroom.

Anetra found the fridge empty of any of the blue Gatorade that they bought two days ago. She settled for the cherry flavor instead and grabbed a blue raspberry-flavored popsicle from the freezer as a consultation.

She knocked on the door to Kerri's room before letting herself in. Anetra found the teenager lying under her covers, with her laptop in front of her, paused on an episode of The Real Housewives of New York.

Kerri looked at her as she walked into the bedroom, "But I wanted the blue kind." she whined before coughing,

"We're out of the blue, but here's a blue popsicle if you want it," Anetra said as she placed the bottle and the popsicle on the bedside table, but noticed a cup from 7-Eleven on it.

Anetra took a moment to look at the cup, noticing it was a Slurpee cup, "Where did you get this from?" she asked, hoping Sasha didn't sneak out without her noticing.

She already had to wrestle Sasha's work laptop bag out of her hands that morning.

"Jasmine brought it over," Kerri shrugged as she tore open the popsicle with her teeth. Anetra noticed the window next to the bed was open, and saw a folding lawn chair sitting outside with another 7-Eleven cup in the cup holder.

Anetra looked at her in shock, "Why is she here? You know you can't have friends over when you're sick." she said in her well-practiced mom voice.

"Mama said it was fine when I asked her last night," Kerri said as a counter-argument.

"Did you ask her before or after she took the Nyquil?"

"...After."

"That makes sense." Anetra sighed as she started to leave the room. "And tell Jasmine you'll see her at school after you get better," she said as she left the room without hearing a word from Kerri.

Besides coughing, she's been hearing that all day.

Anetra walked across the hallway into the other bedroom, "Okay, I'm back-" she stopped when she saw Sasha sitting next to Delia in bed. "What are you doing in here?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

Both of them looked at Anetra with their matching green eyes, "She wanted to watch Moana," Sasha said with the TV remote in her hands.

"I meant that you needed to go back to your bed, not Delia's," Anetra said as she settled at the foot of the bed. She noticed Delia was leaning on Sasha, clinging onto her upper arm.

Then she got a brilliant idea to handle her clingy toddler and her restless wife.

"There, all settled," Anetra said as she laid the duvet over the king-sized bed. "Make sure Mama doesn't get out of bed, okay?" She said to Delia, who looked tiny in the middle of the large bed. She held her German Shepard plushie in one arm and clinging to Sasha in the other.

"You really got our toddler to make sure I stay in this bed?" Sasha asked in disbelief. Anetra nodded, and Sasha sighed, "Fine, it's a smart move. I'll give you that." she said in a slight mumble.

"Let me know if you need anything," Anetra said as she leaned over and kissed both of them on the forehead lightly. She heard the movie start to play on the TV as she started to think of what needed to be cleaned in the kitchen.

Just as she turned the doorknob, she heard a small voice come from the bed behind her.

"Mommy?"

Anetra turned around, "Yes, baby?"

"Can you come watch Moana with us?"

Anetra felt herself smile slightly as she saw an empty spot in the bed, "Of course I can."

[inkaddict1978]

June. June was supposed to be nice. It was supposed to be “take Baby for a long drive, windows down, with no destination in mind for once” nice. Instead it was cold, 40’s at best, and the pattering of drops on the windows didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. It was starting to get on Dean’s nerves. The 4 friends were lounging around in their cozy little living room, “Ramble On” playing softly from the speakers in the far corner.

Sam was in the recliner, scrolling on his laptop. Dean didn’t need to see the screen to know he was searching for their next case. Always the diligent one. Cas was on one end of the couch, nose deep in some new “book of the week” that he had become addicted to. The sight made Dean’s stomach flutter, something he was still trying to get used to. Eileen was on the loveseat, watching tv, surely some reality show that Dean would pretend not to be interested in, but secretly be sad when it ended. Dean was currently propped up in the corner of the couch, opposite Cas, with a magazine in hand, not really focusing on the print, mind distracted.

He was fidgeting, too. He knew it, but he hoped no one else had noticed. He wasn’t used to sitting still, at least not for long periods of time, and his hands itched to be doing something, other than holding the paper distraction. He kept shifting slightly, couch creaking with each move, and every so often one of the other’s eyes would roam over to him, their look questioning. It never lasted long, but Dean would duck his head back into the magazine every time, avoiding the stare. His heart was starting to race, and he willed himself to slow it down. He could do this, dammit. He could relax. He just needed to practice. He wasn’t used to the semi-retired, non-hunting lifestyle. So sue him. It would take some getting used to. He shifted again, trying to return his focus back to his reading, but apparently fate had other plans in store for him today.

“Dude what’s the matter with you?” Sam asked, voice laced slightly with irritation. You’re like a nervous ball of energy, and it’s been radiating throughout the room for the last hour. What gives, man?”

Damn it, Sam was always the intuitive one. Dean couldn’t get anything past him.

He tried to play it off with a scoff, schooling his features into a look that implied as though Sam’s comment was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. In reality, he wished Sam could read his mind, so Dean didn’t have to use his words to communicate his emotions. He’d never been very good at that. For the moment though, he wished Sam would just drop it and leave him alone.

“I know when something’s bothering you” Sam continued “so just tell us what’s going on.”

No such luck.

Truth was, Dean didn’t know what was wrong, exactly. He’d slept well, eaten, and was currently nursing a beer. All his basic needs were met and he should have been grateful for the rest. But for some reason, even in a room full of others, he felt alone. His skin was cold, despite the warmth in the room, and he was itching for some sort of physical contact. Everyone seemed so far away, despite the close proximity of the furniture. What the hell was wrong with him? He rolled his eyes at himself. He needed to snap out of it. He wasn’t sharing with the class, especially something as emotionally confusing as this. Suffer in silence. That was his MO.

Apparently no one was willing to allow him that luxury today, because Cas, who had averted his attention away from his book to observe the brother’s exchange for the last several minutes, chose that moment to join the conversation.

“Dean, you do seem more restless than usual. What’s the matter with you?” Cas paused, waiting for Dean to respond. Dean pulled a face that clearly conveyed “leave me alone” without having to verbalize it. Either that, or he was trying to think of a lie. Cas must have thought the latter, because he followed up his previous question with “and don’t lie to me. You know it won’t end well.”

Dean schooled his features, giving Cas a challenging glare. Who did he think he was? Dean was an adult, he could lie if he wanted to. Besides, choosing to ignore the current line of questioning coming from his brother and boyfriend wasn’t lying, it was just avoiding, and that Dean was a pro at.

The silence dragged on until it was uncomfortable, Cas squinting his eyes and doing his adorable little head tilt that usually signified he was studying Dean, trying to get a read on him. A few more seconds ticked on, and Dean couldn’t stand it any longer. He stood up from the couch, ready to bolt to his room where he could sulk in peace.

Again, no such luck.

Cas was on him, tackling him to the ground before he’d made it two feet. He straddled his hips, and after a brief struggle (that Dean was embarrassed to admit he’d lost too easily) Dean found his hands pinned by Cas’s on either side of his head, face bracketed in by Cas’s arms. Their noses were practically touching. Cas continued to study Dean, but the new proximity was making his head spin.

Tough guy brivatto still intact, for the moment, Dean steeled his expression into a look of annoyance, twisting himself underneath Cas’s hold, testing it. He was stuck, he knew it, but he wasn’t going down without a fight, Angelic strength be damned. Dean continued to struggle, letting out little grunts of frustration as each unsuccessful attempt let it sink in a little more just how screwed he really was. Cas had a small smirk forming on his face, and it just added to the irritation building up. Dean let out a growl, willing himself to break the hold, but eventually he conceded, body going slack, head tipped back, eyes closed, as though he was slowly starting to accept his fate. He was still breathing heavily, little huffs coming out of his nose every few seconds, but he couldn’t help the small smile starting to form on his face from the ridiculousness of it all. He tried to school his expression into something neutral, but he was failing. When he dared to peek one eye open, Cas was grinning down at him with that big gummy smile of his. Dean couldn’t help but smile back as he said “yeah, yeah, you made your point, now let me up.” But Cas apparently had other intentions, grip tightening slightly at the request.

“Dean, we just want to help. I’d like you to tell us willingly, but I’m not against coercing it out of you.” As Cas spoke, his eyes started to twinkle, and Dean gulped, his throat growing dry, nerves set on edge. If Cas’s look was any indication of what was coming, Dean was in trouble. He tried to remain calm, not giving Cas the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under his skin. He fidgeted again, cursing himself silently.

Get it together, Winchester. You can still get out of this.

Right on cue, as if reading his mind, Cas readjusted his grip so that he was holding both of Dean’s hands in just one of his, other hand coming to rest ever so gently on Dean’s side. Well shit. This wasn’t the first time Cas had used this method to get Dean to “talk” and he should have known it was coming. Dean had two options, tell the truth, or try and lie his way out of it, convincingly, of course.

He put on the brightest smile possible, the one he knew worked ninety five percent of the time, his go-to when he was trying to charm his way out of a not- so-pleasant situation he’d inevitably found himself in, and said “I’m FINE, man, I swear, just let me up.” He tried not to let his voice waiver, but when Cas didn’t budge, Dean chuckled nervously, averting his eyes for a moment. After collecting himself, he turned his face back, eyes pleading with Cas to just drop it. But Cas could be stubborn as well, and as the moments ticked on, it became increasingly clear that Cas would not be satisfied until Dean fessed up. Dean narrowed his eyes, voice low. “Don’t even think about it.” he snarled, trying to appear as if he had control of the situation, even if Cas did have the upper hand. He let out another growl, but it quickly turned into a yelp as Cas’s fingers jumped to life.

Sam, who had previously returned his attention back to his laptop after the brief exchange with his brother, heard the noise and looked up, curiosity getting the best of him. He smiled softly at the sight of his brother squirming beneath Cas. Dean was trying his hardest to keep his composure in check, but was rapidly losing that battle. Cas’s growing smile was a clear indicator that Dean was close to breaking. Cas knew it and was slowly chipping away, gaining leverage with every twitch of his fingers. Moments ticked on, Dean still squirming but refusing to concede, and eventually Cas must have decided he’d had enough. Without warning, he released his grip on Dean’s hands in favor of digging all ten fingertips into both of his sides. Dean was not expecting the sudden change, and his wall of resistance shattered. He began cackling, the noise loud enough to catch Eileen’s attention, who until this moment had remained focused on her show. She glanced at Sam, eyebrow raised and questioning, and Sam just smiled back at her, shrugging his shoulders. The pair stood up simultaneously, making their way over to the spot where Dean and Cas were still battling it out, although it was clear who was winning this little bout.

Dean could see Sam and Eileen approach out of the corner of his eye, although his vision was already starting to blur. He groaned through his laughter, trying to hide his face in the crook of his arm. This was embarrassing, especially with how quickly Cas had broken him. It had only been a minute, tops, since Cas had really started tickling in earnest, and Dean was already red-faced and giggling hysterically. He had expected to hold out longer than that, but Cas had him so wound up with anticipation, he didn’t stand a chance. He was twisting frantically, kicking his legs, trying to throw Cas off, to no avail. A few “Cas’s” and “please” and "stop it’s” slipped in whenever he could catch a breath, although only half of them decipherable. Damned if he wouldn’t still try though. Cas just shook his head, acknowledging he had heard him but wasn’t complying with his requests. The little shit was dead when Dean got out of this. Dean was so getting him back, tenfold. But he couldn’t focus on that right now.

The little voice in Dean’s head kept telling him if he just agreed to give them an answer that this could all be over. He tried convincing himself of what it was he DID want. What answer would appease them? What was the truth? Dean hadn’t been able to put his finger on it before, and he certainly was having trouble thinking clearly now. Another part of him, a louder part, kept reminding him that this WAS what he wanted. Physical contact, no matter the form. Sometimes he found himself craving it, the lack of it overwhelming him to the point of suffocation. Usually he drowned himself in other distractions to take away the sting. Until now, it had worked. He wasn’t expecting it to hit him today with an audience. He hadn’t even fully accepted that was the problem, but as the contact with Cas made the earlier cold and loneliness slowly ebb away, a realization dawned on him. Well damn if he would admit it. He had a reputation to uphold.

As Sam and Eileen reached them, Dean could see Cas and Eileen share a quick glance, and then she nodded, as though they could read each other's minds. The silent exchange made his nerves ignite. She knelt down above his head, and Cas paused his tickling to pass Dean’s arms to her, one at a time. He tried to resist, but in the end it was futile. From his seat on Dean’s lap, Cas had the advantage. Eileen sat on them gently, only enough pressure to ensure he was pinned firmly. Dean gulped. One on one with Cas was bad enough, but being double teamed… They wouldn’t, would they? Dean shivered at the thought. At least Sam was still standing. Dean didn’t know what would happen if all three of them attacked. He’d never survive. He might as well ask to cuddle, right then and there. At least he’d still have some of his dignity left.

Once the pair deemed Dean secured in his new position, Cas said “last chance to talk, Dean.” He was counting on Dean’s stubbornness, and when Dean glared at him with a “how dare you” look, Cas grinned and started tickling again, fingers back at Dean’s sides, though not as harshly as last time. Dean should have been grateful for the reprieve, only now Eileen’s hands were added to mix. Dammit, NO! Her fingers were poking and prodding in and around his armpits, occasionally jumping to his collarbones and up and around his ears. Dean exploded, cackling, voice going in and out as his pitch reached new levels. His efforts to free himself increased momentarily, twisting and turning with every poke and prod, but he was quickly running out of energy. He was shaking his head from side to side, a stream of jovial “nonono’s” bursting out of him every time he could catch his breath.

Eventually he went slack, sweat lacing his brow. Cas and Eileen noticed and slowed the tickling just enough to give him a moment to breathe, but still enough to keep him gently giggling. Eileen with her long fingernails still scritching softly under his chin. Cas with the soft pads of his fingertips digging into his ribs. And Sam with that dopey, lopsided smile, grinning down at Dean every time he dared peek his eyes open, looking at Dean like his face was the brightest thing aside from the sun.

It was more than Dean could handle. He needed it to stop. He never wanted it to stop.

“Ok, ok I give. I give up. Please, no more.” Dean relented. Cas and Eileen paused, waiting for him to continue. When his breathing slowed completely, they looked on expectantly, but instead of speaking, he tried hiding his face in the crook of his elbow again. “Heeey” he giggled, as Eileen softly tickled the side of his neck, forcing him to turn his head. He looked up at her, trying to glare, but was betrayed by his lingering smile, and she bent down to peck a kiss to his forehead. He almost started crying. What the hell was going on with him today?

He closed his eyes and laid there for a moment, trying to regain his composure, not trusting himself to make eye contact, much less to speak. He knew they wouldn’t wait forever. Still pinned beneath the pair, he tried to muster up some courage. As he looked over, Cas started wiggling his fingers again, making a show of getting closer and closer to Dean’s sides, and it was all the encouragement Dean needed to blurt out “I was just lonely and wanted attention!” He immediately tried hiding his face again, cheeks burning red. This time, no one stopped him. When a few minutes had passed and no one had spoken, he dared to glance up.

From the looks on their faces, whatever it was they were expecting Dean to say, it clearly hadn’t been that. All 3 were looking at him with slightly different expressions, from fondness to curiosity, but not one of them appeared to be judging him. He was grateful for that, at least. Maybe he could finish the day with some of his dignity intact.

“I answered your question, can I sit up now please?” Dean asked, suddenly looking very uncomfortable in his current position. Cas and Eileen, realizing that they were still pinning Dean down, released their hold, shuffling back to give him some room. He sat up, keeping his head down, hand ringing at the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. He could feel their eyes on him still and it made his cheeks burn red again. He wished they’d just leave him to wallow in peace. They owed him that much. Instead, as Cas and Eileen stood up, Sam offered Dean a hand. He accepted it, shakily rising to his feet, still a little wobbly and light headed from before. Sam saw him stagger and righted him, but instead of stopping at that, he pulled him into a crushing hug.

“Come here, ya big dummy.” Sam said, and Dean could tell by his tone that Sam was grinning. When Dean didn’t put up much resistance, he pressed on “if you wanted us to hug you, why didn’t you just ask?” Dean tensed at the teasing and started to pull away, even though the contact was keeping him grounded at the moment. Old habits were hard to break. Sam wasn’t letting him get away that easily. He tightened his grip, arms wrapped around Dean’s torso, fingers starting to wiggle into the crevices at the back of his armpits. Dean let out a gasp, followed by a “nohoho, not again!” and before he could help himself he was giggling, squirming steadily in Sam’s arms, trying to keep himself upright, although his knees were threatening to give out. Cas stepped in behind him, just in time to catch him as Dean managed to break Sam’s hold.

Dean stumbled and Cas righted him, wrapping his arms around him to keep him vertical. Sam advanced forward, hands finding purchase on Dean’s belly as he responded to Dean’s plea of “no Sammy, please don’t” with “I didn’t get to participate before, Dean, it’s only fair!” When Sam fingers found his belly button, Dean shrieked, laughter quickly turning silent. He was doubled over Cas’s arms, trying to force Sam’s evil fingers away, but Sam continued to slip his grip with ease. Eventually he gave up and tipped his head back, temple brushing against Cas’s, arms crossed in front of him as much as Cas’s hold would allow. Sam eventually slowed when it was clear that Dean couldn’t take much more.

Sam giggled at his brother as he tried to entangle himself from Cas’s octopus-like grip. When Dean was finally free, he stumbled over to the couch, practically collapsing onto it. He laid on his back, arm draped over his eyes, willing his breath to settle. He startled when he felt someone lift his head up, but relaxed again when he realized it was only Cas climbing in to sit beneath him, Dean’s head now in his lap. Cas started running his fingers through Dean’s hair, pausing every once in a while to scratch at his scalp. Dean hummed appreciatively, which only encouraged Cas to continue.

Normally he’d be embarrassed at showing his emotions so openly, but after what he’d just endured, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Cas had picked up his discarded book before settling down, now propping it up on the arm of the couch, somehow managing to juggle it with one hand while still attentive to Dean with the other. Every once in a while his hand would stray from Dean’s head to rub over his back or shoulders, and Dean would sigh contentedly. Maybe he needed to ask for what he wanted more often.

Sam and Eileen were snuggled on the loveseat, watching on with fondness. Cas looked up and met their gaze, smiling at them and then down at Dean. Dean met his gaze, smiling softly back. The rain still pattered lightly on the windows, only now all was right with the world again. Maybe rest days weren’t so bad after all. He rolled over, snuggling his face into Cas’s lap, and when Cas resumed his scritching, Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and soon he was snoring softly.

I rarely write but this one just came together so quickly, I couldn’t stop the brain worms. Hope you enjoy.

[topguncortez]

How I Met Your Mother- J. Machado

pairing: Javy "Coyote" Machado x Valerie "Val" Bates word count: 1.0k synopsis: the story of how Javy and Val met. Coyote & Val Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist

“I am going to kill you,” Javy cursed as Jake was filling out the paperwork for him. He was sitting in a wheelchair in the waiting room of the hospital. What was supposed to be just a simple workout ended with Jake accidentally dropping a fifty pound plate on poor Javy’s foot. His foot had immediately swelled up and was now an angry purple and blue. 

“I already said I was sorry,” Jake said, “I got distracted.” 

“Clearly,” Javy rolled his eyes. Jake was expecting a call from his girlfriend who was over in Italy with her parents. He had been distracted since the day she left and Javy was counting down the days when she’d return. Javy loved Jake like a brother, he was his best friend, his wingman, but man, was he annoying when it came to missing Y/N. 

“Hey, don’t blame the lady,” Jake scolded. 

Javy chuckled and adjusted his position in the wheelchair. His butt was starting to hurt from sitting so long and waiting to be taken back, “I don’t blame her. Out of all the girls you have ever been with, I actually like Y/N. I hope you don’t screw this one up.” 

“You and me both,” Jake said, right as a nurse called out Javy’s name, “Want me to go with?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” Javy said as the nurse came and grabbed him, “Stay gold, Ponyboy.” 

“I'll never let go, Jack,” Jake smirked and gave Javy their ‘secret’ handshake before the nurse took him back. The nurse took him back to one of the exam rooms. 

“Valerie, will be in to see you soon,” The nurse explained and checked the IV in Javy’s arm, “Do you need anything?” 

“Can I get one of those warm blankets, please?” He asked and the nurse nodded, “Thank you.” 

Javy looked around the small exam room and noticed his x-rays were on display. He winced at seeing the clearly broken bones in his foot and hoped that this wasn’t going to take him out of flying for very long. He and Jake had just gotten back to Lemoore from TopGun school, and he wasn’t ready to be grounded just yet. Jake finished first in the class, and Javy finished second. They both had an opportunity to be instructors, and Javy almost did take it, but opted not to. He wasn’t ready to settle in his career yet. There were still missions to fly and places to see. 

He sighed and slunk down in his wheelchair, leaning his head back a bit and closing his eyes. He was exhausted. Usually by now on Saturday’s he was taking a nap after going to work out at the ass crack of dawn with Jake. He didn't understand why the man had to wake up at six on a Saturday to go the gym, but Jake said it was part of his routine. Javy almost dozed off as there was a knock on the door. He didn’t bother to sit up, thinking it was the nurse bringing him his warm blanket. But the second a young beautiful woman walked through the door, he was quickly pushing himself up and trying to look presentable. 

“Hello, I’m Valerie Bates, you must be Mr. Machado?” 

“I uh. . . y-yeah. I-I Javy,” He was mentally slapping himself. It was like every coherent thought had left his head. He suddenly forgot how to speak in the presence of a woman who was clearly a lot smarter than him. Valerie chuckled and sat down on a stool across from Javy. She signed into her laptop, looking over Javy’s case and pulling up his labs. 

“Well, good news is your foot is not broken, just a fracture,” Valerie said, “I think we can just fix it with a boot and rest.” She looked over at Javy and he just smiled. She raised her eyebrows like she was expecting him to say something. 

“You’re pretty,” Javy blurted. Valerie blushed and looked down at her laptop, “Oh my god, I am making a fool out of myself.” 

“It’s okay, Mr. Machado,” Valerie shook her head with a smile on her face, “It’s probably the pain meds in your body. But, I want to know your opinion on just doing a boot.”

“I’m a pilot,” Javy said, “How long will I be out if we do the boot?” 

Valerie looked at the x-ray, “I’m going to say eight to ten weeks. But, you’re young and if you do everything as I tell you, then it could be quicker.” 

Javy clenched his jaw. He thought of all the detachments, missions and possible deployments he would be overlooked because of the injury. He suddenly wanted to go through a fifty pound plate at Jake for causing this. It was as if Valerie could read his mind and moved a bit closer to him. 

“If you are worried about this affecting your career, it shouldn’t. I know eight to ten weeks sounds like a very long time, but it’ll go by pretty quickly. You need to be on total rest for the first two weeks, and then you can get back to working out and keeping yourself in flight shape.” 

Javy looked up at Valerie and noticed how beautiful her eyes were. They were like endless pools of honey with strands of gold mixed in them. She also smelled of lavender and vanilla, which reminded Javy of him of being home at his grandmother’s house. 

“You promise?” Javy asked, and Valerie smiled. 

“I promise,” She answered and then pushed herself back away from Javy, going back towards her computer, “Now, I will have the ortho tech come in and fit you for your boot, and I will have you follow up in four weeks.” She grabbed her laptop and stood up. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Javy asked, and moved as if he was going to stand up and then remembered that his foot was broken. 

Valerie furrowed her eyebrows, “I have other patients to see.” 

“But. . .” Javy was trying to think of something to say that wasn’t going to make him sound absolutely pathetic, but he could not think of a single thing except, “Will I see you again?” 

A smirk graced her lips, “In four weeks for your follow up. Have a good day, Mr. Machado.” Valerie walked towards the door and opened it but not before Javy called out. 

“It’s Coyote!” 

“Callsign?” Valerie asked. 

“Y-yeah,” Javy answered, “How did you know about-” 

“Have a nice day.” 

Javy sat there in awe as she walked out the door. He had talked to her for all of twenty minutes and was already so in over his head.

note: Sundays are Opposite Attract Days, so send in blurb ideas, asks, requests whatever you want! :)

[elslovers]

chapter one

BLOOD IN BLOOD OUT

synopsis: medical school is hard you knew it would be you prepared for the long nights and breakdowns you prepared to run off only coffee and will power for four years what you didn't prepare for was Abby Anderson you thought after graduation you would be done with her but first day of your internship there she is ready to give you hell...and maybe something more

a/n this is basically going to be greys anatomy tlou version im not sure this is gonna land with people but lord I hope so doctor abby eats so lets see how this go - also this is my first not standalone fic yay for me

you had always been a healer in one way or another, mending healing sick younger siblings back to health from a cold or nasty flu turned to taking care of your friend's hangovers after discovering to never vodka and tequila

you've spent your whole life healing people mending broken hearts and broken women, and mending parents and friends during the lows of their life it only made sense that you would dedicate your life to mending the pain of others its what you do best, and if you're being honest, you loved it at first, you thought you might want to be a vet at the ripe age of eleven. You decided you prepared the company of your pets to those around you (you still do) and thought fixing them might be a decent way to spend your adult life but the concept of seeing animals in any form of pain put you off your dinner then in middle school, you thought maybe a nurse you liked the idea of a hospital, the concept of working alongside brilliant doctors and helping save people's lives by realizing you only wanted to be a nurse because you thought you couldn't be the doctor and fuck that

college, you spent every second of every minute of every goddamn day proving you deserved to be one of the doctors, and after four years of grueling pre-med classes, you were confident you deserved to be one of the doctors then came med school, which knocked you flat on your ass. You didn't go to a shabby school for undergrad, but you ran circles around your peers there - common knowledge was that you were the one to watch, but med school was different you weren't running the circles alone Abby Anderson had been breathing down your neck and your ego from the moment you stepped foot into your first class - the first question your professor asked your two hands were the only ones to fly up

it was world war three ever since that day constantly an all-out battle as to who can bruise the other's ego more you hated her stupid notes and the way she was so above using an iPad like everyone else and was insistent on surviving med school with pen and paper for notes, only using her laptop when needed be you hated her attitude. Her father is a doctor, and she always acted like she was born with a scalpel in her hand, ready to cut she always acted so above you if you were being honest with yourself, Abby made you feel weak. She was tailor-made for this life. She was stoic and hard level headed and cool under pressure. She poked fun at all the things that made you you

she made fun of the way you doodled in the edges of your textbook she made fun of how you dressed 'like an overgrown toddler.' She would say every time you sported your colorful shirts or pants, your cardigans or fun shoes- the day you wore pigtails to a lecture was one of the worst of your years there Abby always quipped that you were better-suited teaching kindergarten than in the OR, and sometimes you started to believe her

in high school, mean girls were blondes with Jeeps and low GPAs, but in med school, the mean girl was a cut-throat soon to be doctor who almost beat you out for top of the class almost

graduation day came and when and you stood on that stage beaming ear to ear - your dress may have been pink, but you were the only one with a gold cord draped over your cap and gown so suck on that, Abby Anderson was the second name to be called and the relief that flooded your body was unexpected

it was over. She was gone, and you would never have to feel that big hand wrap around your shoulder just to tug at your ponytail you had finally gotten rid of Abby fucking Anderson and you existed blissfully with that thought all summer you'd accepted your internship at Jackson Hospital and after four miserable years of med school spent proving to yourself you deserve to be a doctor, you now got to spend the next four years of your life proving to yourself you deserve to save lives when your alarm echoed throughout the four walls of your one-bedroom apartment, it felt like a gift

today was the first day of the rest of your life

it was a fresh start - a clean slate and nothing in this world could knock you off your high at least you thought

the light blue scrubs felt like a second skin right off the bat, and with your hair in a pink clip and two cups worth of coffee In your travel mug, you gathered around the other interns and spotted the only thing that could ruin your day a honey blonde braid hanging idly down the pack of the one person who could make you regret even waking up that morning

fucking Abby

Abby had a special gift for making you feel small, always pointing out the things you love about yourself as if they were the worst flaws she'd ever seen

it blew your mind to think your first impression of her was that she was stunning

"you have got to be kidding me" You meant it to sound firm and harsh, but you know it came out weak

you watched, gawking as Abby turned roughly on her heels to tower over you properly

this was going to be a nightmare

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

to say Abigail Anderson was meant to be a surgeon would be the understatement of the year

where you were born to heal

Abby was born to cut

her father was a healer,

but what she lacked in his warmth she made up for in discipline. Abby was controlled. She was hard-working. She knew what she wanted from the moment she was old enough to vocalize it and she spent every moment of every day working toward it. It would be admirable if she was humble about it but Abby was cocky, and she knew it

she was always the one to beat all throughout her life she spent most of her young childhood inside the walls of Jackson Hospital, absorbing every ounce of knowledge her mind could, and by the time she hit high school, she was a well-oiled goddamn machine Abby lived and breathed medicine, and although out college, every move she made had the sole purpose of bringing her closer to the goal - to the one thing she was made to do it is needless to say, Abby never had many friends. That's not to say she had none. Every overachieving perfectionist can attest that various social clubs help fill the void

Abby was president of the debate team Vice President of Model UN, captain of the girl's basketball team, and an active member of the gay, straight alliance per her father's request (begging) who often worried Abby didn't surround herself with 'people on your team' as he father would put it over breakfast most mornings

Abby had people but Abby was alone. She didn't play nice with others people who weren't on her level she found boring and impossible to converse with and people on her level (people like you) posed as a threat to the territory that was rightfully hers Abby walked confidently into med school posy undergrad, convinced no one could take the wind out of her sails until she met you

for every question asked you always seemed to have the answer a second faster for every quiz test or exam that she got an A on it always felt as though you got an A + she hated the way you showed her up and did so with a smile - did so with fucking pigtails

she hated how good you got and how kind you stayed she spent years convincing herself that the way she was is what it took to become bright that warm girls sweet girls girls who doodle and play nice don't become cut throat and that Abby was made to be cut throat

but there you were personified sunshine and holding a fucking dagger to her throat it seemed unfair so when you made her feel low Abby would make you feel lower she knew her teasing and taunts were pathetic and bordering on cruel but for four years taking the wind out of your sails put it back into hers

she would be a liar if she said tequila and late nights in her apartment didn't force her to think about how soft and broken your face looks when she teases you she would be a liar if she said those thoughts didn't want to make her stop but they just were never enough when she sobered up

after graduation all she could feel was relief sure you had one for a final time you pulling top the class out from under her would chase her down in her nightmares for years to come but she had the summer to nurse her pride and by the time day one of internship rolled around she was prepared to walk though the doors of Jackson hospital exactly what she was A legacy Abby was the second link in the chain of Anderson surgons in that hospital

her father was legend and now she could follow it up build her own reputation of excellence she like he had always intended when she gathered around the other interns sipping on her coffee as they all spoke in hushed whispers about how she was the daughter of THE dr Anderson she was confident nothing could bring her down until she heard your voice small and weak and taunting as she whips around her braid nearly hitting someone in the face

"oh come the fuck on" she hissed feeling the anger rising right to her cheeks

this was going to be a nightmare

[corner-stories]

the whole "boyfriends" thing

Jean Kirschtein. Reiner Braun. High School AU. Chess Boards. Cigarettes. Mother-Son Conversations. 1657 words. (ao3.)

By dumbass teenage boy standards, Jean Kirschtein’s bedroom is fairly neat. Even if the odd marker or paint tube finds itself on the floor, every sock is either tucked into his drawer or tossed into the hamper, every sweater is hung cleanly in his closet or methodically placed on a hook near his door. Even his lacrosse sticks are leaning neatly against a wall. 

Reiner is usually able to find a place for himself, that place often being the bed or the floor, as it’s where he can best fit in the limited space. Today he sits with his back against the headboard, situated near the window on a chilly afternoon where the sky is covered with clouds. 

The size of the mattress may be small, yet Jean remains in front of him, his long legs folded as he balances a mixed media sketchbook on his knee. Despite the modestly-sized chess board between them, Jean is a lot more concerned with doodling than engaging in the game. 

Every few moves they’ll pass the lit cigarette between them, though as the pieces get scattered over the board Jean finds himself accepting it less and less. But Reiner doesn’t seem to mind, as the sound of the Pet Shop Boys playing off laptop speakers keeps their little corner of the world at ease. 

Reiner moves his rook across the board, placing it in the ideal spot to take out Jean’s king. 

“Check.”

Jean’s eyes show a mild disinterest in the game, yet he puts his charcoal pencil in his mouth so he can move his bishop in front of his king. He then goes back to shading his sketch with soft, dusty lines.

Reiner rolls his eyes and moves one of his knights, further creating another point of attack to take down Jean’s king. 

“Double check.”

Jean gives his boyfriend a glare. “You can’t double check, dipshit.” 

“Yes, I can…” Reiner starts, taking a rather slow pull of the cigarette. “...and I will.” 

Jean rolls his eyes before ceding to the notion. He’s far past the point of arguing over chess, and thus takes Reiner’s rook and knocks down his king himself. He doesn’t put up a fight when Reiner scoffs and begins reorganizing the board for round four. It helps that he’s not entirely invested in the match, as the drawing of a flower in his book is far more important. 

Reiner passes the cigarette to Jean as he assembles the next game, Jean tipping some ash into the tray before taking a drag of his own. After blowing out a puff of smoke he places the stick on the tray, which resides on his windowsill. 

Then like clockwork, a knock is heard and the bedroom door creaks open. Being used to Jean’s mother by now, Reiner’s disposition barely changes as she pops her head into the room. He hadn’t even heard her enter the house. 

Arielle Kirschtein’s eyes are a familiar shade of hazel, the kind with the slightest bits of green, but unlike Jean her hair is a bit darker and her face looks a lot softer, a contrast to her son’s more angular features. Donning a hoodie over her usual nursing scrubs, it’s safe to assume that she just got home from a shift. 

“Jeanbo,” Arielle begins. “Did you-”

“Yeah, Ma,” Jean grumbles, not looking up from his drawing. He places his pencil between his teeth again to start smudging the medium with his finger. He manages to speak through the object in his mouth. “The chicken’s defrosting. Took it out when I got home.” 

Arielle smiles and nods. “That’s all I needed to hear, thank you.” 

Reiner looks at Arielle with a calm expression. Perhaps any other mother would clutch her pearls at the sight, one involving a strappingly handsome linebacker in her son’s bed with a lit cigarette resting on the windowsill. But she proves to be different, giving the guest in her home an honest smile. 

“Hi, Mrs. Kirschtein,” Reiner greets, clearly trying to sound polite. 

“Oh, Reiner, you know you can call me Arielle, right?” she jests, letting out a laugh. 

The linebacker chuckles. “Yeah, I’m still working on that.” 

Arielle nods, then eyes her son being artsy and deep. “And Jeanbo, remember to-”

“Yes, Ma!” Jean responds, implying that he’s heard this particular tone of voice countless times. He dramatically pulls the pencil from his mouth to begin more shading. “We’ll clean up when we’re done!” 

Arielle lets out another laugh, an infectious noise that cuts into the music playing from the laptop. “Okay, you boys behave.” 

Once she’s gone she closes the door. The chess board is now set up and Reiner reaches for the cigarette again, holding it between his fingers. One would expect a football player to be more health-conscious, yet something about the atmosphere of Jean’s room helps him stop caring, even if for a moment. Sometimes he wonders what the school would think to see the star football player and lacrosse captain enjoying a smoke together, some people would find it more scandalous than the whole “boyfriends” thing. 

“Why’s your mom so chill?” Reiner asks, making the first move in the game.

“Because when I was young I was an absolute fucking nightmare,” Jean explains, his signature snark seeping into his voice. 

He reaches over and moves his own pawn, then when Reiner passes the cigarette he accepts, taking a drag with the energy of a vintage film star who’s no longer a suitable leading lady at the tender age of twenty five. 

“Life tip,” Jean starts, keeping his eyes on his significant other. “Lower the bar when you’re a kid so the bare minimum impresses your mother in the future.”

Reiner chuckles, though this time it’s plagued with a sense of unease, a contrast to the lightheartedness he had shown not a minute earlier. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

…

…

…

Reiner is gone by the time dinner rolls around. As per usual, Jean rids his room of the smoky smell with a can of air freshener and the strategic opening of his window. Once the warmer weather comes around he and Reiner should be able to spend time in the backyard, whether they be training like the productive athletes they are or continuing to be teenage dipshits. But in the meantime, Jean’s bedroom will have to do. 

Once the space is mostly clean he heads downstairs, entering the kitchen to join his mother. 

Arielle is cooking when Jean walks by. He heads straight to the fridge to retrieve the milk, then like clockwork he takes a pull directly from the carton.

Arielle wordlessly grabs a glass from the cupboard and slides it across the counter, where Jean catches it. 

Jean rolls his eyes but heeds to her request, pouring himself a glass of milk like a respectable young man. For once. 

“Did Reiner leave?” Arielle asks, focusing on her cooking as her son chugs milk behind her. 

Jean nods as he puts down his glass. “Yeah, he has to pick up his cousin from karate. It’s a whole thing.” 

Arielle hums. “Good to know.” 

A few moments pass as she continues to cook and Jean pours himself another glass of milk — clearly, his sudden growth spurt isn’t going to fuel itself. When Arielle steps away from the stove she heads to the spice shelf. She doesn’t need to reach for the tarragon for long before Jean steps in, silently grabbing the small bottle that’s just out of his mother’s reach. At least he’s using his freakish frankenteen height for good. 

Arielle grins as she accepts the spices, then heads back to the stove. “I ran into Karina, by the way, at the post office.” 

Jean raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Arielle nods as she sprinkles dried herbs into a pan full of stir-fried chicken and vegetables. “Yeah, she’s…” she begins, then pauses to think her words through. “...she’s not exactly the easiest person to talk to.”

Jean’s only reaction is to shrug. “That’s Ms. Braun for ya.”

The sound of a sizzling pan fills the kitchen as Jean feels his smartphone vibrate. He fishes it out of his pocket as he leans against the counter, reading the latest text from his boyfriend. The bulk of the message consists of a smiling selfie depicting Reiner and his little cousin, the caption explaining that Gabi finally earned her green belt with a flurry of excited emojis. 

Jean grins and sends back a reply about how she’ll be the next linebacker by the time she’s in high school. 

The memory of Reiner’s smile remains in Jean’s mind even after putting his phone down. Soon he feels his mother tapping his shoulder, then when he looks over he sees her gesturing to a cutting board, a knife, and several stalks of unsliced scallions. She doesn’t need to say anything for him to walk over and get to work. 

The sound of chopping permeates the air, alongside the sizzle and Arielle’s quiet humming. As Jean meticulously slices the scallions as thin as his mother prefers them, a sudden thought comes to his mind, one influenced by the conversion between him and his mother, as well as the message from his boyfriend. 

“Uh… mom?” Jean starts. 

Arielle doesn’t look up from her pan. “Yes?”

“Ms. Braun doesn’t know about me and Reiner,” Jean decides to say. He keeps his words simple, not wanting to complicate things. Like his mother, he focuses on cooking, but lets the topic in mind retain its weight. “So could you maybe… not let her in on this?”

Arielle looks to Jean, then when he meets her gaze he notices the worried, questioning look on her face.

“Not tell her we’re together, I mean,” he’s quick to clarify. 

And to that Arielle doesn’t hesitate. She nods her head and immediately goes back to cooking, understanding the request but not making a fuss about it.

“Of course, of course.” 

[bamdelune]

In Hindsight 📹 Ch. 02 : "Room 613"

notes. this chapter will mostly be text-based & will try to ease the plot better so excuse the length! I'll be putting a line break after the first few to consider the scroll time on tumblr <3 the social media portion of this chapter is below the 19th block of text if you're curious,

cw! mention of nosebleeds (once)

After the day you were admitted into the hospital, the rest of the week was dedicated to thorough laboratory tests and consultations. Care of Dr. Baizhu, of course.

Dr. Baizhu has been your physician ever since you were in elementary school. Before you checked in, you had called him about unusual pains and abnormalities you noticed with yourself. You suffered from additional headaches that were severe to a level and nosebleeds seemed to happen more often. He in turn advised you to come to the hospital to get it checked. The process was daunting and exhausting but you finished, falling face-first onto the soft cushions of the ward's bed.

Saturday, you woke up early to meet with your production team to discuss your upcoming album—though it happened online since the nurses specifically told you that coming outside in this state wasn't exactly the best course of action.

The meeting went by after about 45 minutes. The mood sampler ABYSS Entertainment posted a week ago was merely something to keep your fans from suspecting anything, mainly how you haven't actually made any progress on the album. But the meeting bore fruit, much to your joy. "Pieces of Love" would be taking on a dreamy, floaty, ethereal theme which was a complete contrast to the mood sampler video's gloomy one. The album would have twelve tracks and as always, you took the responsibility of writing and producing the majority of each song with a little help from your team. This process provided you a certain peace whenever it happened and you were more than glad you have the chance to do it now.

The sound of knocking resonated within the walls of your room before the sliding door shuffled open to reveal Dr. Baizhu and a young man and a nurse following suit. Your mind questions the stranger but your attention comes back to the doctor.

"Y/N, good morning. I see that you're up early." Baizhu greets with a gentle smile you had long grown familiar with.

You stuff your laptop and writing notebook into the depths of one of your bags before placing it down on the floor beside your bed. You sit down on the edge, and face Baizhu. "Oh, yes. I had to meet up with the production team today." You reply, mirroring his smile.

The nurse shuffles forward to take your vitals, just as she had for the past week. Dr. Baizhu then continues to converse with you, the young man that followed him in here still behind him. standing silently. "I take it you're coming out with a new song?"

"Full album now, actually." You smile at the thought of the achievement. It was one of your goals to release a full album and now that was in the making. You notice the stranger shift as if he wanted to say something but he remained silent.

Baizhu notices the direction in which you were peering at and chuckles. "Ah, right. Forgive me, it seems that I forgot to do some introductions."

"Y/N, this is Kunikuzushi. He's a— well, honorary intern here at the hospital. In reality, he's in his fourth year of college just like you are. And Kunikuzushi, this is Y/N. I'm not sure if you've heard of them but I believe they also attend the same university as you do."

Your lips form a small 'o.'

Honorary... intern? This kid must've done some talented things for him to intern this early. Doesn't internship come later?

"I've heard of them before, doctor. They've made quite a noise in the music industry." Kunikuzushi replies curtly. You couldn't blame him, perhaps he was just the awkward one.

"Well, I suppose that makes this easier then," Baizhu pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose. "Kunikuzushi here will be coming along with me to grasp the concept of working at a hospital so I hope this doesn't pose as a problem for you, dear?"

"Not at all, doctor." You reply with understanding.

"Thank you. Well, I believe your vitals are okay as of the moment so I'll leave you alone now. Please do make sure to rest, Y/N." The green-haired physician advises you as he leaves through the door with the other two. "Call the staff if you need anything, yes?"

You only nod in response before waving him off, welcoming back the silence of the room when the doors slides closed.

You take this as a chance to flop back down onto the comfort of the mattress, throwing your head back onto the pillows as you stare at the white crowned ceiling. Just then, a vibration shakes the wood of the side table.

For the second time this morning, the sliding door hisses open going to the left of the wall. Your best friends shuffle inside your room holding some paper bags and Lumine seemed to be holding a small box tied with a white ribbon.

"You know it's scary how easily we got into your room." Aether blurts out, setting one of his shares of paper bags on one of the two free chairs in the corner. The other two shuffle around to take the contents of their bags out and on to the small coffee table between the chairs.

You breathe a sigh when you kick your feet off the edge of the bed and onto the cool floor, "I told them to watch out for three sleep-deprived college kids today." Aether shoots you a frown while Xinyan then comes closer to you with an open box of snacks, holding one of them in between her fingers and you open your mouth to pop it in. You munch on it slowly as a slightly sour but sweet stream of flavor explodes in your mouth.

"Strawberries?" You ask in between chews, Xinyan nods with a smile.

"You said you were craving them so I bought some from Xiangling from the culinary department. She was trying to offer me some more items but they looked... er, you get it."

You nod in acknowledgement of her words, quietly watching the twins settle down.

"What's the box for?"

Lumine looks in your direction before her face lights up in realization, grabbing the small box from earlier and digging for three envelopes from her sling bag. "Letters. We were originally planning to send only three from each of us but apparently, some of the professors and people on campus had the same idea."

She hands the two items to you and you turn them slightly to examine them. Your hands shake the box to hear a few solid knocks on the cardboard. "Seems 'some' isn't the right word," you laugh, slightly taken aback by the sound of the amount of messages inside.

The rest of the hour and a half that your group spends in your room, they managed to feed you just a little bit of the food you missed. Truth be told, you were kind of getting sick of the hospital food again. Xinyan explains the gist of your current lessons and offers to lend you her notes. Aether suggests that all four of you could binge watch something until their visitation time is over.

You opted to read the messages in the box after your friends left. It was sunset by the time they did and you were just getting tired from the talking you did.

The only light in the room came from outside the sliding door which led to the floor's front desk, and the warm lighting of the drop-down ceiling when you started going through the letters in the container. Most of them were just your professors and classmates wishing you well and good health, congratulating you on the process of making your album, and whatnot. You saved the three's letters for last, figuring that it must've been special and lengthy just by how much paper they used.

Frankly, your friends' messages were the ones responsible for breaking the dam of tears as you read along. As you dry the salty remnants from your face, you take out your notebook dedicated for songwriting and use the night to begin writing one of your b-sides.

synopsis. You are a singer-songwriter. Music has always been a part of you, it's a part of your identity that no one can ever take away. However, there's always a catch: you are diagnosed with a chronic illness that puts your life on a timer. Those who have heard your countless melodies have grown to notice that the notes on the sheet played a gloomier tune. Would the snarky and capable medical student you've met be able to bring life back into these melodies? Even as life begins to seep out of your own body? (scaramouche x gn!reader)

tags. gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, crack, heavy contexts of death and illnesses, friends to lovers, slowburn, profanities, drinking (characters are in college), suggestive themes but no nsfw.

taglist. (open, reply or send an ask to be added/removed) — @beriiov @alatusorrow @br0oke96 @ohmyfinggod @itzblazekun @featuredtofu @sketcheeee

masterpost ★ masterlist © bamdelune 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

[gardenoblues]

tagged by @iamfandomcrazy hii i love all ur fics >< Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs. WARNING: THERE MIGHT BE SMUTT YOU WOULDN'T WANT TO CAST YOUR EYES ON. --- just know that most of these are intrusive thoughts or the product of my spiraled madness, and short ideas. i won't be putting unfinished but posted fics since that would take too long. here it goes

*Visions; - a wyler fic where wednesday was freshly expelled from her former high school and started to have small and useless visions (its safe to assume its about Tyler, she mostly sees snippets of events)

Wulfric Thursday - a fic about wyler's son, he's the first child (that i most prob post on ao3 once Hyde The Past is done since the two are connected, i think i actually need someone with me to think of ideas and be crazy together its a little too much to take, a wide universe. There are 3 current chapters.)

Valentina Francoise - a fic about wyler's daughter, the younger sister (wont say much but she's the best and worst combination of her parents. there's only one chapter and its mostly notes.)

Girl Next Door - this fic was either tyler would be the new kid who moved into town or it was Wednesday. it was hard to decide but i think i settled with Wednesday. I don't know if this would come to life though, wish me luck. there are no chapters. yet.)

wyler tyler has a twin gemini - yep. the title speaks for itself lol. ( i wanted to do something like migi and dali or ayesha's secret, if you know the anime or manga, well you know *wink *wink)

wyler - sunflower - a fic where Tyler dies or it has an alternative story where he faked his death and goes to live in the Addams manor. God i was such in an angsty mood i wanted someone to die with me, and of course its my favorite white boy to write about)

Tyler Galpin - just a compilation of songs i was thinking of editing Tyler in.

Wyler PROMPT - just an unfinished prompt from a dc prompt where Tyler is Fran's and Vincent's son.

Wyler spies AU - again the title speaks for itself lol.

WYLER ITS OK NOT TO BE OK - if you know the kdrama then nice, but if you don't its basically Tyler would be a psych ward nurse or something like that and Wednesday is a children's book writer that sometimes visit hospitals to read her book.

HYDE THE PAST TYLER BOOTCAMP - my heart cries fir this fic. title speaks for itself. suppose to be a filler chapter.

WYLER DRABBLE - alice in the wonderland fic. its just an idea wont prob make the cut.

Wyler hays - just wyler smutt ><

Longing For draft - just a short fic where Tyler followed Wednesday to her house.

Wednesday Addams as Song Lyrics - songs id edit her with. --- These are just what's saved in my laptop. here's what's in my phone. i don't mind if you don't read this one lol.

wyler (1) - wednesday pospartum with her son.

Liar, liar - Tyler teasing Wednesday.

wyler (2) - Wednesday spit on Tyler's face and he uses it as lube.

wyler gender swap - there's one chapter.

its not always rainbows and butterflies - a short fic where Tyler attends nevermore and learning how to control the Hyde but in Wednesday's pov.

This is shit - wednesday denying her feelings for Tyler.

wyler (3) - Tyler has full control of his Hyde and pretends to be nice but Wednesday sees through him.

wyler (4) - (just wrote this 2am earlier lol) wednesday goes to yoga and mourns Kitty's death, has a mental breakdown while Tyler consoles her. SORRY THAT WAS LONGER THAN I THOUGHT. tagging @writerrose1998 @broken-everlark @nonamemanga @cosmic-lullaby @callmetippytumbles @tastethesetears @lovepoison9 @nouklea @diamantdog @lady-murderess @therulerofallpotatos

[my-castles-crumbling]

ok, as someone going into high school and leaving middle school, here's my advice:

-children can easily be bribed with candy and stickers

-if you can, you might want to keep an "everything" drawer with things like snacks, pencils, tampons, pads, flashcards, little bottles of water, etc. (basically anything a student has asked you for in the past). as someone with social anxiety, i do not enjoy going to the office or nurse for things like that.

-be a friend. i'm not saying you should cross boundaries or be overly 'i want to be your friend' aggressive, but let your students know they can talk to you. it was so important to me that i had one of those teachers. i know no student wants to go to the school guidance counselor (or at least not at my school) and kids need someone to talk to about stuff.

-acceptance. i don't think this will be a big problem for you, but let them know that you're accepting of everyone. that you're not going to judge based of skin color, religion, sexual orientation, or anything like that. middle schoolers are some of the most racist and homophobic people i've ever met. it's actually insane and appalling, but they had to learn it form somewhere :(

-rewards. once again, candy is a huge tool. need someone to run and errand? they get candy when they get back. someone wins a class game? candy. someone helps clean up the classroom? candy. i also had a teacher who used 'bonus tickets' as well that could be turned in for an extra 2 points on a worksheet, or an extra 1 point on a quiz or test.

-games!!!!!! if you have computers in the classroom, or have school issued laptops, kahoot, blooket, and quizlet are gonna be your best friends. if you don't have electronics, do vocab bingo, or class jeopardy, or relays, or team pictionary, or really any game. the kids are going to love you for it.

-homework. i don't know what you're school's homework policy is, but remember that your students have other classes too and that each class gives homework. i've had teachers not understand that i had other classes to study and do work for. my geometry teacher in 8th grade would give us a minimum of 1.5 hours of homework each night, and we would never have time to do our other homework or study. again, i don't know what the policy is for homework, but please try to go easy on them. they're under a lot of stress.

-find a balance in sharing. i've had teachers that overshared everything about their life, and i've had teachers who we knew nothing about all year. please try to find a balance. the oversharers were usually super condescending when kids talked to them and nobody ever felt comfortable approaching the mysterious ones.

-DO NOT ask what a slang word means. it's embarrassing for you and the kids, and most of the time, you don't want to know. if it's really eating away at you, look it up when you get home, just don't ask the kids.

-the parents are going to bully you. don't take it personally. as someone who might be a teacher in the future, one of my teachers gave me this advice "never leave because of the parents and never stay because of the kids". the parents might just be the most awful part about teaching but remember that you're not there to debate. you're there to teach.

middle school is a really great age group, and they're so fun and hilarious to be around. i really think you're going to love it :)

Hi!! <3

Thank you so much for all of this, Middle School is definitely going to be different than elementary so I appreciate all the advice, and the time you took to write it.

Good luck in high school! <3

[susiehunsecker-remade]

hi guys im back from my college entrance exams i completely bombed math which was 40 out of the 120 questions but did pretty well on the eng/sci parts if i do say so myself. im praying this means i still get in just because my course is relatively unpopular (everyone goes into it for nursing/med school, im taking up a bachelors in special needs education) and as far as ive heard the passing rate is something around 40-50%? ..i did the exam on like 3 hrs of sleep and no reviewing bc i got struck with the february nightmare bug (also reviewing just never works for me idk why) and this is a lot better than i thought it would go.

umm what else did i do today. oh i explored the city after staying in the mall for half the day and found a little dnd/warhammer cafe where they gave you figurines to paint with your coffee but i got distracted and bought a bunch of lolita headbands they were selling next to some keychains. i was also looking for a copy of lolita the book but for some reason its never in stock here. i did find tlt paperbacks! but they were super expensive and i wanted to use my money on food and criterions. sorry lesbians

im !!!EXCITED!!! to move out its so close i can taste it. im gonna be sharing an apartment with my best friends for college. we have accepted the fact that this will probably lead to us hating each other but honestly the worst we can do to each other doesnt really seem that bad in comparison to having to share a bedroom with people we dont like. we are hoping to find a pet friendly apartment thats close to the school which is tough because this place is PACKED but we will persevere.probably need to get a laptop and a tablet though since my pcs staying at my parents home unless i can kidnap it beforei move for good.

im gonna sleep for 10million hours or get none at all after i finish cleaning up. we will see 🤸

[cherryblossom-heart]

Snowdrop (S.R.)(ModernAU)

Steve Rogers x Reader 

Platonich-ish!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Summary: When the past comes looking for you, how do you face it? (For a summary of the series visit the series Masterlist above)

3.2k words

Content Warning: ANGST, heartbreak, childhood bestfrieds to enemies. A side of Platonic-ish!BuckyxReader and ReaderxOC

A/N: Hey sorry for the late update, apparently my laptop has an imminent hard disk failure so basically it's dead. Anyways, here's the first chapter, hope you enjoy it.

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics

Snowdrop (Galanthus) 

Meaning: Consolation  

                  Hope  

Origin: One of the first flowers to bloom in the depths of winter, the bright white snowdrop is a sign that spring—and a turn toward better, easier days—is coming. Victorians loved this unique flower but warned against bringing it into the home. If brought indoors, it was considered a bad omen, perhaps even a harbinger of death. 

Nine 

Once upon a time, there was a girl whose mother worked all day and most of the nights. She was a nurse who had to take on extra shifts as the man she fell in love with died tragically in a car accident. The little girl who once had a happy, full life was chased down by the shadow of grief, the loss of her dad marking her life forever.  

The little girl who once had the biggest, warmest, most comforting smile now wore a constant frown on her forehead along with sad, tearful eyes that sometimes turn red and let those tears escape when she thought no one was watching.  

And she was right—no one was looking at her except for the scrawny boy from his class, the one that always seemed to be next to a blue-eyed, dark-haired, rebellious kid. The scrawny boy knew the little girl from when her dad would stop by her mother's flower shop to buy his wife some red roses. Even as a little kid, the scrawny boy knew he had fallen for you as soon as your eyes connected. You threw him a shy smile before leaving with your dad, and his whole world had turned upside down.  

After seeing her cry, when his mom picked him up after school, he asked her how he could make someone stop being sad. His mother knew right away who he was talking about, the scrawny little boy wasn’t as discreet as he had thought, and the news of your father's death had reached her.  

"Healing a broken heart is difficult, Stevie. Sometimes there’s just not much we can do other than being there for them and loving them."  

The next day, the little boy sat next to the little girl in class, bringing his annoying friend along. The frown on your face turned into a confused expression once he brought a chair to sit next to you. Neither of you said anything until he picked up his backpack, looking for something. Seconds later, a flower was deposited right in front of you. The scrawny blond kid looked at you expectantly, waiting to see your reaction to the strange flower. His friend also looked at you, curious eyes going between the flower, you, and his friend.  

Hesitantly, your fingers lifted the flower up. It was white, that much you knew, but it wasn’t like any other flower you had seen in your short life. Small petals covered the whole flower, some of them bruised from being packed inside the little boy’s backpack. It was a simple single flower, its curvature making it look as if the petals were about to fall off at any second and giving it a rather sad looking appearance. But the more you looked at it, the more you found beauty in it. The white color running smoothly through the delicate edges, the strength the stem possessed even as it seemed at the verge of breaking. Everything about it seemed sad yet strong and beautiful.  

You didn’t look at the scrawny boy for a while, instead remaining focused on the flower. The little boy was scared you wouldn’t like it, or perhaps that he had upset you. His mind was going as fast as it could thinking of ways of apologizing, or perhaps the best thing would be to just leave and never bother you again. He was in the process of getting up when he heard you speak.  

"It’s beautiful." you said. His head snapped in your direction, and he saw it again.  

The smile.  

The same smile that he had seen you wear so many times. It wasn’t as bright as it had once been, nor was it as big, but it still made him smile. The frown was gone, and the sadness had faded slightly, leaving you with a faint warmth in your eyes as you looked at him. 

"I’m Steve." He said, extending his right hand at you in a panic. He heard his friends laugh at his formality, mentally beating himself up for embarrassing himself. You shook his hand, though, finding his actions adorable. "That’s Bucky."  

"Hi." His friend waved at you.  

You gave them your name before the teacher got to the classroom. In a hurry, you hid the flower in your backpack, afraid the teacher would take it away. Steve looked at you one last time before turning his attention to their teacher.  

You were still smiling.  

Sometime later, you found out the symbolism of that flower, and your heart ached with love. You had pressed that flower between the pages of a book, seeing that your mother sometimes would do that with the flowers your father used to bring her. You had also framed that flower, which you kept on your nightstand.  

But that flower now rested at the bottom of a box, where you stored every reminder of Steve’s presence in your life.  

Twenty-eight  

Flowers brought you comfort, they were the only constant in your life. After years of taking care of them, you had memorized everything about them, therefore being able to predict every possible outcome. You knew what would happen if you changed the temperature in the storage room by one degree, whether it was up or down, the flowers didn’t like it, and they were more likely than anything to die earlier. You knew what type of flower food package would keep them alive the longest, the off-brand one you had purchased once had them rot before their prime. You knew when to change their water, which ones to put on the back.  

Flowers brought you comfort because, with time, they had become predictable. Unlike people.  

People were selfish. People lied. People broke promises. People left without an actual explanation. People took your heart and tossed it away, as if it were nothing but trash to be disposed of.  

People could betray you, but flowers would never.  

So you stuck to what you knew. Taking over his mom's flower shop wasn’t difficult, after all, you had spent a big chunk of your childhood there, and most of your adolescence you had worked with his mother. The memories you had built there were precious, even if they were tainted by his presence.  

You supposed the pain was worth the outcome, you loved the flower shop with all your soul.  

A knock on the crystal doors brought your attention away from the pages of the old handmade book you were looking through. Brown eyes and a charming smile met yours, along with his wet hair from the slight drizzle that coated New York streets.  

"Just a minute," you mouthed. You walked to your office with the book in hand and threw it on your desk. With quick, rushed movements, you grabbed your purse and your phone, the later placing it in your back pocket.  

You were a second away from leaving the room, but the way the book had splayed open, some of the pages were wrinkling with its position. You shouldn’t care, it was just a stupid book someone you never wanted to see again had made. You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care.  

You shouldn’t.  

The book was in your hands, the first page had suffered the worst of the damage, with its edge almost tearing off. You tried to smooth it out more desperately than you would admit, a heaviness infiltrating your chest, but it was futile; the page was still ruined. Nothing but guilt filled you until you saw the golden handwritten inscription that once had made you tear up out of love.  

So you will always have your flowers wherever you go, peach. Just remember, none of them will ever be as beautiful as you. Always yours, S.R.  

Always, he had said  

Always was never meant to last.  

Being an only child taught you how to deal with your own solitude. Spending time alone had made you comfortable with the possible loneliness that came with it, and at some point, you began to enjoy it. So you figured that getting a boyfriend who would sometimes spend long periods of time on business trips wasn’t so bad, you had the apartment to yourself, and sometimes it was exactly what you needed.  

But sometimes, no matter how used to things you are, you needed something extra to get your head out of the spiral. In those days you would find yourself searching for a little bit of extra comfort, you would visit the little café a couple of blocks from your shop and order yourself a caramel iced coffee along with a couple of red velvet cookies that somehow still tasted the same way as they did in your childhood.  

Pulling out your phone, you quickly sent a text to your best friend, asking him if he wanted one for your movie night. You didn’t bother to look at his response as you ordered one for yourself and one for him out of muscle memory. Unfortunately, sometimes your muscle memory went way back in the past, ordering three of them instead of two.  

On those days, you would give the cookie away.  

Today was different, though. Something in your chest was dreading getting out of your house, as if something bad was going to happen today. Even after drinking your amazing iced coffee, you couldn’t shake the feeling, which spread to the pit of your stomach.  

Perhaps it was the fact that the streets were filled with people today, not something unusual except for this day as it seemed everyone and their mother had decided to go out. You tried to stay away from big crowds, thinking that would soothe you, but it didn’t help at all. Maybe getting to work would make you feel better, perhaps the coldness and the smell of the shop would bring you comfort.  

You were a few feet away when something inside you told you to look on the other side of the street, a sixth sense whispering your attention was needed elsewhere. You glanced, and you saw him, just for a second, almost as if it were the remnants of a ghost.  

Blue eyes, golden hair, and a big frame.  

Just as quickly as you had seen him, he had vanished, lost in the sea of people. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him. No, there was no way. He wouldn’t have come back, not after the way he left.  

The rest of the day, your mind was elsewhere, going back and forth on whether you had actually seen him or was it your mind playing tricks. An hour before closing, you told MJ to go home early, and seeing as the evening was slow, she bid you goodbye with a smile before leaving you alone.  

Minutes went by, and your mind wouldn’t stop. What if it was him? What if he actually came back? When did he come back? And, most importantly, why? Why bother coming back after cutting off communications for four years, almost five?  

A ding brought you out of your thoughts, prompting you to turn around to look for your phone. A sweet text from Marc showed on the screen, adorned with a little heart at the end that made you smirk a little. A little spark ignited in your chest—as little as you allowed yourself to feel, anyway.  

Loving was never easy after him, and you weren’t sure you would ever allow yourself to love like that again.  

The door behind you opened, heavy footsteps resounding in the otherwise empty place. Your arms and neck were covered in goosebumps, and you got the confirmation you had been craving the whole day.  

Knowing someone so well, you could tell apart the way they walked was something that had once been proud of. Knowing, without looking at them, that they had entered the room. Recognizing their smell, their touch, and the way they would move around the room. You remembered every single detail. He didn’t say anything, nor did he have to, you knew exactly who it was.  

"So I guess it was really you this morning, huh?" you asked, with your back still facing him and your eyes stuck to your screen.  

A quick gasp left his lips, you had taken him by surprise with your recognition until the memories started to come back. "It always freaked me out how you could do that."  

Deep, raspy, and mature, time had really passed, at least in his voice. His words made you shiver, your heart was jumping to your throat. Many times, you had fantasized about what you would do if he ever came back, you had thought you would scream at him, hit him, and unleash the simmering anger that had stayed inside you ever since he left. You thought you'd tell him to fuck off and go back to whatever hole he was hiding in. 

You thought maybe he would hug you, maybe he would explain and beg. Maybe he could fill again the hole in your soul he had left behind.  

But now, having him in front of you as you had imagined, the only thing you wanted was for him to go away and never come back. You weren’t ready to do this, and maybe you will never be ready to do it. You wanted to run away, so far away to somewhere he couldn’t find you.  

With trembling hands, you turned around, your breath hitching on your throat. He looked the same, but he didn’t at the same time. Blue eyes, blonde hair, and a tall frame remained, but there was a five o'clock shadow over his jaw, a small scar on the left side of his cheek, and the faintest almost imperceptible wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.He looked like a distant memory shattered by reality.  

Neither of you said a word, both of your eyes searching for any sign of what the other one was thinking. Steve used to know you like the palm of his hand, but now he didn’t recognize so much about you, the harshness in your eyes, the frown that rested between your eyebrows. Time had changed you in ways he didn’t understand, and the voice in his head whispered that it was because of him.  

"Peach," he whispered, almost as if he were afraid you would vanish after saying it. He was right to be afraid, the familiar yet distant nickname brought back the words engraved in the book you kept on your desk.  

Always yours, S.R.  

Always yours  

Always  

Always  

"Get out." you muttered, your hands turning into fists as you held onto the counter, bubbling rage reaching every part of your body.  

His eyes fell down, and in another life you would’ve felt bad for making him feel like that, maybe even backing down on your attitude towards him, but in this life, he had ripped your heart out the night he left. There wasn’t anything left inside you that could feel any sympathy towards him.  

"Peach, please." he begged, ready to cross behind the counter to try and reach you.  

You were thankful for Sam and Bucky’s help in many things. You were thankful for the time they helped you move out of your apartment, lifting the heavy objects as if they weighed nothing. You were thankful when they came to help you deliver your orders after all your delivery people had failed you one unlucky day. You were thankful when they beat the shit out of a creep that had touched your ass one night when you were all hanging out at a bar.  

But perhaps right now, the thing you were most thankful for was the fact that they had insisted on you having a bat to protect yourself in the nights you would end up alone in the store. Or when the person you hated the most tried to come back into your life as nothing.  

Steve barely saw you take out the bat, but once you had pulled it up to your side, in a strong strike position, he couldn't help to be equally surprised as hurt. His peach would never do this, his peach would never consider him a threat, and his peach would never feel anything but secure with him.  

Except this wasn’t his peach anymore, he had made sure of that almost five years ago.  

"Get the fuck out."  

"Please, just give me five minutes."  

"Five minutes? You had four years. Four fucking years to come back." you sneered. Your grip on the wooden bat grew as he kept trying to talk.  

"Just let me explain..." he tried again before you cut him off.  

"There is nothing you could say that could make things better."  

Your words were harsh, but not harsher than the truth.  

"I know, I just—"  

"I don’t care." you hissed. "Stay the fuck away from me, Steve. You already did it for four years, I bet doing it again will be just as easy."  

A low blow, you were aware of it, but as your mind went back to the night he left you couldn’t be bothered to care. You hated him, perhaps more than you had ever hated anyone in your life.  

They say time heals all wounds, but how do you heal a wound that cuts through fifteen years of memories?  

A loud, desperate knock made you jolt from your couch. Equally desperate, urgent steps guided you as fast as you could towards the door, your heart hammering against your chest. Not a second went by after you opened the door before big, strong arms surrounded you. An earthy, citrusy smell filled your nostrils, along with a faint smell of whiskey and cigars.  

 Your arms moved instinctively around Bucky, his embrace was the last thing to make you crumble apart. You almost didn’t recognize your own sobs, the tears falling from your face definitely stuck to his black shirt. His hands brought you even closer to his chest, his metal hand circling your back in an effort to soothe you.  

His flesh hand found your face as he tried to make you look at him, the heaviness in your chest dissipating ever so slightly. The friendly blue eyes that had seen you through almost two decades of your life now looked at you with compassion and perhaps a bit of pity, but you couldn’t find yourself strong enough to care 

You needed him more than anything, he was the only one who could understand.  

"Peach," he whispered, and the smell of whiskey intensified once his breath hit your face.   

He was probably having a drink at a bar when he received your text with just a word: Snowdrop. In a drunken night after a particularly bad day for both of you, you agreed upon a common word that meant I need you, something bad happened. This was the third time you used it, but it felt like the most important one.  

"He’s back." you cried.  

That was all he needed to understand. So in the middle of your apartment, when silence was the only thing that surrounded you both, your heart broke once again for Steve Rogers. And once again, Bucky was there for you to help you through the pain. 

If you like the story please interact: reblogs, likes and comments go a long way. Feedback is always appreciated! Feel free to message me about it.

Buy me kofi?

[honeyylin]

What about Me? - Chapter 1

If you are the artist behind this fanart of Maruki, please tell me and i'll be sure to credit you or take it down if you do not want your art to be used.

NOT PROOF READ*

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅

My eyes widened as I watched what was in front of me.

Suguru Kamoshida was on his knees confessing everything to the whole school.

All of his crimes. From abusing the volleyball team, being the cause of the disbandment of the track team, to sexualizing the girls. Even confessing to his advances toward me and the other younger teachers.

“Someone! Please, Call the police!” he yelled out.

The gym got louder after that, with teachers yelling at students to get back to class, and students loudly talking about how the rumors were all true.

I stood there as the teachers moved the students out the best they could, a few hanging behind. Staying behind as I watch the students interact. I recognized one of the girls, I remember seeing her with Ryuji during middle school. I frown as I hear one girl apologizing to her about the rumored relationship with Kamoshida. I walked up to the group, giving them a soft smile.

”Hey, let’s get going to class, yeah?” I said to the group of girls, they smiled at me and nodded before leaving. I looked at my brother and crossed my arms. 

“You’re probably relieved about this,” I said to him, a small smile on my face as he grinned up at me. “Aren’t you?” He replied back.

I slightly laughed and wrapped my arm around his shoulder, with him being just slightly taller than me. I raised my hand to ruffle his hair “Let’s talk about this later, yeah? You three should get to class” I tell him, playfully pushing him forward to start moving. I looked at the other two and they started walking with him.

”Who is that..?” I heard one of them say as they walked off.

I didn’t hear Ryuji’s response but the girl yelled “SISTER?!” before they left the gym. 

I got the rest of the students who were in the gym out and to their classes before heading back to the nurse’s office. 

As I entered the room, I saw a student in there waiting for assistians. I raised a brow as I looked around for the nurse. “Hi, do you need something?” I asked the student.

When I couldn’t find the nurse I turned towards the girl. “I just, I felt like after what happened in the gym, I needed to see you. I mean. You were one of his victims too right?” The student said. I frowned and walked up to her. “Hey, it’s okay. Calm down, you’re okay.” I gently rubbed her shoulders in comfort, bringing her over to the couch to sit. “Do you want to talk about it or..” 

The girl shook her head “I just, I need someone here with me.”

We stayed there for a few minutes. Just silence between the two of us.

This wasn’t the first time she came to me. She wasn’t the first student. Many students had come to me for comfort for anything. I had assumed it was because I was younger than some of the other teachers that students felt like they could come to me. It warmed my heart that I had that sort of effect.

Finally, the nurse came in, rubbing her stomach. She raised a brow when she saw the student. “You need to go to class ms.” The student looked up at her, eyes welling with tears as she nodded at her. “T-thank you sakamoto sensei.” I smiled and nodded at her, walking her out the door. 

I closed the door behind her, turning back towards the nurse. She gave me a look “You can’t have the students in here for fun.” She sternly said. I tilted my head and gave her a look. “She was crying Yaba san.” I replied.

She shook her head regardless. “Doesn’t mean she can just come in here, she has her homeroom teacher to go to if she needs someone.” 

I scoffed. “Are you serious right now?” I asked, before I could say anything else I heard two pings. One coming from her and my laptop.

I rolled my eyes at her before walking away to my separate desk. 

“I worry that you’ll continue this while I’m away for maternity leave,” the nurse said, walking to her side desk and picking up a few papers to organize. Rubbing her stomach again. 

I ignored her as I read the email just sent to us. 

‘staff meeting after school @ 4:00’

I sighed and grabbed my phone, immediately texting Ryuji. 

StinkFace 🤮❤️

*hey

*last minute teacher meeting

*get home safe

*don’t stay up for me

-

As the bell rang, I started packing my stuff up. Getting ready for the staff meeting that was most likely about Kamoshida.

Me and Yaba san walked to the meeting room, where some of the teachers were already there. The principal is at the end of the table, waiting for the teachers to all appear. 

I sat down and waited. Once everyone was here the principal started talking.

”You all clearly understand why we’re here correct?” He started. We all nodded. The principal sighed and rubbed his forehead.

”Does anyone know what we should do in the meantime for the volleyball team? or if we can find any last-minute subs for gym?”

I heard a teacher cough to get our attention, I looked over to see it was Kawakami. “Are we just going to ignore what happened?” She said, “A teacher, someone who we considered was our college just confessed to these things and we as a school are just going to ignore it?” She asked.

Another teacher, Ushimaru, sighed “Well what do you think we should do? The police coming to take him was enough trouble enough. Now the news will be bursting with stories about this.”

”To add on with that, the school’s reputation is surely ruined now.” Another said. I sighed and looked at the staff as they argued back and forth.

”What about you Y/n san, you’ve been quiet this whole time.” I blinked as I looked at the teacher who said my name. I sighed, but before I could speak another interrupted. 

“You’re quite close to the students too considering how young you are, don’t you have a solution?” 

I cleared my throat before sitting up, “Well.. why don’t we get a counselor.” I simply said.

It was silent for a while, the teachers looking at each other. I decided to continue.

”Students come to me all the time to seek comfort, before, during, and after school and that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to help students who feel ill or get hurt.”

I then look at Yaba, “And once Yaba san goes on maternity leave, I won’t have time to take care of the students like how I am at the moment. Getting a counselor would be the best option not only for the staff but for the students as well.” I concluded.

“After this morning, do you think anyone would want to work here?” Asked Chouno. I sighed. Do they not know how a counselor works?

The staff soon started arguing back and forth about whether we should get a counselor. The principal then got everyone’s attention. 

“Well, there was someone who asked to come work as a councilor here at Shujin. I just haven’t given it any thought until now. I’m glad you brought it up Sakamoto san.”

I raised an eyebrow, “yeah..” I mumbled. The principal then went on, “I’ll get in contact with that person, we’ll hire him to help with the students. We should give him a list of students we believe will benefit him working here.” He said, “I also think that hiring him will get the media off our backs, make them believe that we care about the student’s mental beings.

My eyes widened at that, I was about to say something at the comment before the principal concluded the meeting. I huffed out a sigh and grabbed my stuff, leaving the room.

As I walked to the station, I couldn’t help but think about Ryuji. With how the school handled his whole track situation.

“So that's how he feels about the students..” I grumbled angrily.

Running up the stairs, I could hear faint sounds of yelling. 

“How can you raise him like that?” I heard someone yell as I got to the door. I stopped myself from entering the room as I heard Ryuji yell back, “Stop yelling at her!” I heard a bit of shuffling and soon the door opened in front of me. The scowl on Ryuji’s face was evident but left as soon as he saw me.

I looked back at the teachers and glared at them before walking away with the two. We walked to the entrance before our mother stopped walking. Me and Ryuji both looked back at her, confused as to why she stopped walking.

”I’m sorry..” I heard her say, I tilted my head but didn’t say anything yet.

”I’m sorry for being a single mother..” My eyes widened. “Mom..” I mumbled, taking her hand into mine, she shook her head. “I’m sorry..”

I never want Mom to ever apologize for what she couldn’t control ever again.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅

previous - next chapter

[allie-campbell-bradshaw]

Chapter 10: Maybe It Isn’t All Bullshit

A/N: This chapter had me COMPLETELY in my feels! This is when the pages really start to turn people! I tried something new and wrote it in the author’s point of view, that way we could get a good grasp on Bradley AND Allie’s feeling at the same time. You’ll also find some more developments for supporting characters as well. I mention this in my notes for every chapter, but just in case you missed it– I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post. 

Also: This story is sequential…please go back and read my other chapters, in order, for the best results!

Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Very brief mentions of sex (nothing explicit), swearing (it is the navy after all), mentions of a horrible childhood, and a blissful wisp of a blossoming romance!

Chapter 10: Maybe It Isn’t All Bullshit

AUTHOR’S POV

Allie closed the door of room 2 on the student wing. The student wing of the Naval Academy hospital was outside. The navy letters of the hospital hung over the 6 navy blue doors that led to the patient rooms. These rooms were used for quick and easy treatments for students and staff that suffered slight injuries throughout the day. That morning, Allie had treated two students who fell pretty bad on the track. Easy bandaging. The student in room 2 broke his clavicle during an incident on the submarine simulation that they had on base. Allie assisted with the X-Ray imaging and helped the student get placed in a sling. The day was very uneventful overall.

Allie made her way back into the hospital through the sliding glass doors, crossed the hall of the lobby, and made her way over to the nurses station in the second wing where Kiera and Holly were standing.

“Join us for lunch?” Kiera asked Allie, as she was finishing up typing the report of sling man. 

“Can’t” Allie answered shortly, keeping her eyes on the computer screen.

Kiera and Holly exchanged a look, as if to tell each other that their friend is no longer as fun as she used to be.

“Okay, that’s it!” Kiera said, reaching over and pulling the laptop away from Allie.

Allie looked over at her confused; “What?” she asked genuinely. Not at all understanding what Kiera meant by that.

Kiera gave her a slight smirk, “We are prescribing you with a break…” she said in a gentle tone, not wanting to upset her best friend.

“I take plenty of breaks.” Allie corrected her, reaching over and pulling the laptop back in her direction, wanting to finish her report on the student she just saw.

“Not enough!” Kiera replied, a little snappy, but still gentle enough to complete her humble personality. Kiera slid the laptop back to her and held on tight on the back of the screen. Allie reached over for it again, but she didn’t try to snatch it back. She knew it would be no use, Kiera was far more stronger than her.

Allie looked down as she collected her composure, growing slightly frustrated with the “cock blocking” that her friend was doing between herself and her work.

“Look,” Kiera began, “We love you and we can see the life being sucked out of your eyes. Working with students is torture, and it sucks your soul out…” Kiera was being incredibly sarcastic and the least bit sympathetic for Allie’s situation during this shirt: “ but we can also see that you are itching for some fun!”

Allie kept her eyes down, but did look up slightly, admitting to herself that Kiera was right. She had been stressed to the MAX since she graduated from nursing school at Johns Hopkins University back in May. While there, she met her two best friends, and brought them with her to the Naval Academy when they graduated. Given Holly’s obsession with military men, she followed without a problem. Kiera however, was a different story.

Kiera was from New York City, growing up in a family of 7 in two, sometimes one, bedroom apartments throughout the area. She was the oldest, and held onto much of the responsibility of keeping house while her parents worked multiple jobs to pay the bills. When she graduated high school, all she wanted to do was get out. She went as far as she could within reason and ended up in the nursing program with Allie. However, after 4 years apart from her family, and the death of her brother, she felt it was her responsibility to go back and help with her other siblings. After a nasty fight with her mom after she moved back, Kiera packed her bags, moved in with Holly, and never looked back. It had been 2 months since she’d heard from any of her family, but it didn’t bother her as much as it used to, since she was with the two people she loved most.

“Please,” Kiera pleaded to Allie, “join us for lunch. It’s only 30 minutes out of your life”.

Allie looked up at Kiera, who had a hint of loneliness and pain in her eyes, nodded and smirked at her. 

All three girls walked out of the lobby and into the connecting wing of the academy, where a small cafe stood in the corner of the large room. The room was a completely open concept with glass walls stretching all three stories. Stairs linked the three stories on the opposite side, with glass paneling that overlooked the cafe area. It was small, only 6 tables scattered the cafe area, each with sets of 2-4 chairs–people moved them around all the time.

Allie and Holly sat down at one of the tables and Kiera went to an empty table, grabbed an unused chair, and brought it over to them. The tables and chairs were gray metal, completely cold due to not being used in awhile. Two Academy students were working in the cafe, dressed in their service khakis with an apron provided by the cafe draped over them.

Kiera bought all three of them coffee, which they all greatly accepted. “So,” Kiera said, breaking the awkward silence that now existed at the table, “What’s the newest update with medical school”?

Kiera and Holly had their eyes glued to Allie, who just responded with a shrug. She had felt defeated recently in regards to that subject. Halfway into the nursing program, Allie got to participate in a field experience in the surgical wing of Sinai Hospital. During that time, she saw a life saving surgery of a little girl that reminded her of herself when she was her age. She got to be part of the team that performed her heart surgery. However, there was a complication with the surgery that was discovered the next day, and the girl died within minutes. That experience changed Allie’s life, and she realized that nursing was not her end goal in healthcare. Since that day, Allie had been studying anatomy and surgical procedures during all of her spare time. She had recently filled out applications to various medical schools in the United States, hoping to be accepted and able to go by this time next year.

Harvard, Stanford, Cambridge, and Oxford all had applications form her headed their way. She wanted to be able to attend a medical school that was not only rigorous, but also an institution. She honestly didn’t care which of the four she was accepted into, but Stanford was her number one. No reason other than that was just the one she gravitated towards the most. Most particularly because it was away from here…this Academy…where she constantly had men breathing down her neck.

The conversation drifted from Allie’s current surgical studies, to Holly’s love interests (of that there were plenty), to Kiera’s dry-spell, which has lasted longer than she cared to admit. Allie finally let out her first genuine smile-filled laugh when the pager, attached to her hip, went off beep, beep-beep, beep. Silence. Beep, beep-beep, beep.

Allie’s face dropped as she was slowly forced back into reality. She was being paged back to the hospital. She checked her pager’s screen to see the message: Student, 23, in need of immediate medical assistance, student-wing, room 1.

Kiera and Holly’s smiles also dropped as they watched their overworked friend get called back into her personal hell. “And just like that,” Kiera began, in an upset tone; “the magic is broken”.

“Well,” Allie said, as she began to get up, “We ain’t no Disneyland”!

“Hey,” Holly said softly, watching her friend, who had a look of dread in her eyes, “Don’t forget about Friday, please?” Holly knew it was inevitable that Allie would cancel, but had high hopes that she would go out with them just this once.

Allie tapped her forehead with her index finger twice, as a way to say ‘it’s in my brain’ as she grabbed her trash and turned towards the hospital. Her friends watched as she strutted out of the cafe, threw her trash away, and went into the hospital wing.

There were flirtatious giggles coming from the two men that were behind the cafe counter. Kiera and Holly looked at them and then back at each other, rolling their eyes in sync at the men’s thoughts that they knew were of Allie as she passed.

“Why can’t that kind of stuff happen to me?” Holly said in desperation.

“Because you give into anything that moves” Kiera replied in a funny tone, making fun of her friends’ tendencies, while also making it clear that it was a joke out of love.

They both got up and started assembling their own trash as they prepared for their afternoon shift with their patients, all of which were recovering from extensive surgeries that happened within the last few days, and one woman that recently had a baby. Although this hospital was located at the Naval Academy, it still was available to the public as it was one of the only hospitals in Annapolis with a solid reputation. It was small, but the surrounding community appreciated having quality care ready for them should they need to go to the emergency room, but it was mainly used for Naval students and staff as well as navalmen and women that were stationed around the area.

Allie stopped at the other nurses station that was at the right wing of the hospital, smiling at another nurse as she handed her a clipboard with this 23-year-old student’s information on it. Allie returned the smile with a slight smirk of her own, even this nurse, who barely knew Allie, knew how much she hated being on the “student shift”.

Allie read through the notes of the student’s medical file as she made her way to room 1 of the hospital;

Name: Bradley Bradshaw

Age: 23

Vitals

Body Temp: 98.2

Pulse Rate: 63

Respiration Rate: 16 Bpm

Blood Pressure: 111/60 mm Hg

Description of Injury: Student was in their flight training course when they smacked their hand on a magnet strip located inside of the cessna. Student has reported a pain level of 3/10, although it is expected to be much higher. Student now has ice on the injury, but it needs to be wrapped. X-Ray showed no signs of broken or fractured bones. Monitor for possible ligament strain.

Allie knocked on the door of room one, as to give her patient a warning that she was about to come in. She pushed the door and held the clipboard to her chest. “Good afternoon Mr. Brad-” she froze in her place as she made eye contact with the man that has single handedly made her life more stressful during this last week and a half.

“Mr. Bradshaw. Or, you could even say Midshipman Bradshaw”. Bradley responded to her, with a flirtatious smirk on his face, sweat forming along his hairline. It was no lie that this outdoor wing of the hospital was known for its low quality air-flow. The summers were miserable in these sticky rooms and the winters left you freezing. Students worked their asses off to make sure that they didn’t get hurt during the extremely hot and extremely cold days, but for some, it was unavoidable. 

“Jesus” Allie muttered under her breath, looking down so she could roll her eyes as she prepared for what was going to be the longest 15 minutes of her life. Utter torture is the best thing she could compare it to.

“What?” Bradley questioned, leaning in so he could hear her better. Although he asked, he knew full well what she said.

Allie raised her eyebrows and put on a fake smirk as she walked over to the counter, putting his chart down and washing her hands. “So,” she began, as she turned off the faucet and shook her hands over the sink before grabbing a handful of paper towels to dry the remaining moisture, “You smashed your hand on a magnet strip inside an airplane?” She sounded a bit unimpressed, and left a tone that was meant to make him feel utterly stupid, which didn’t work. Nothing really hurts his feelings anymore.

“No”. He replied, quickly closing his eyes and shaking his head. Obviously he told a lie, but it was more like a half-truth than a full-on lie. “I mean, yes” he corrected himself. Allie looked at him utterly confused, with a face that one would have when talking to a completely stupid person. “Yes, I hurt my hand, but not by accident.”

“So, you hurt your hand on purpose?” Allie questioned as she threw away the paper towels and sat down in the rolling stool, making her way over to Bradley.

“Yes.” Bradley answered matter of factly. “I needed to see you, and I knew that this was the only wa-”

“You can just stop there!” Allie said back sternly as she placed her fingers on his hand, with the intent to turn it so his palm would be facing up, but something made her stop. Something about his touch made a bolt of electricity fire through her. She quickly let go of his moist hand.

Bradley noticed the change in her demeanor and had a look of curiosity on his face. She gathered her composure and looked up at him, taking note of his complexion. His eyes were a piercing brown, with a hint of hazel. Hers were a brighter hazel, one that would be the next shade up from his if they were on a color palette together. “I’m sorry,” she apologized softly as she went back to grab onto his hand.

“It’s okay,” Bradley responded, slightly uneven, “I don’t bite”. He said, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Allie would never admit it to him, but that joke did amuse her for a brief moment. Allie now had his palm facing up and was examining the swelling that did not look good, at all.

“But you do gamble”. She said, throwing a punch in her words, which stung at Bradley’s heart. 

“Yeah,” Bradley said slowly and cautiously, “about that…”

“Don’t worry about it”. Allie said, stealing a glance up at him before going back to his hand. “You’re not the first one to say that. It was quite unoriginal”.

Allie now rolled her chair over to the cabinets and bent down over the stool, opening a floor cabinet and began rummaging through it, looking for ace wrap. 

“But, it wasn’t even my idea”. Bradley said, with a slight beg in his voice. “It was my roommate Emmett’s, I just went along with it”.

Allie froze in her search, looking up at his leg for a split second before refocusing on the insides of the cabinet, scanning every corner for the wrap that she needed for his hand. She couldn’t explain it, and didn’t want to believe it, but something felt genuine in his voice.

Finally, she found it! She reached far back as she grabbed the substance, closed the cabinet and rolled back over to Bradley. He looked at her with a curious expression, wanting to know everything that was swimming in her brain. 

“I-” He began, before finding himself speechless. How could he not be? In a room with a woman as beautiful as her in it, it was easy to find oneself speechless. “It was just bullshit. I was bullshitting him. I didn’t care about a single outcome of that bet. I just wanted to get to know you. That’s not bullshit.”

Allie was now holding his hand steady as she interlaced his hand with the ace wrap, completely ignoring his explanation on the outside, but fully listening to it on the inside. “You’ll need to keep this completely wrapped for 24 hours, and then just re-wrap it every time you notice the swelling flaring up. Take ibuprofen for the swelling and pain. It should go down within the next few days. I would come back on Monday if it hasn’t. Make sure to ice! Don’t use heat, or the swelling will get worse. And absolutely don’t go putting your hands on medal powerstrips ever again”.

Allie started standing up, when she felt his clean hand hold onto her wrist, “Allie-” He began to plead, but let her go after a second, knowing full well that no amount of begging would satisfy her. 

“Mr. Bradshaw,” she began, with a professional tone in her voice, “Midshipman Bradshaw,” she corrected, remembering what he said 20 minutes earlier. She swallowed hard as she prepared for the next layer of her speech, “I appreciate your care and compassion for the Navy. Your service can never be fully repaid”.

Bradley smirked and nodded his head in thanks as she went on, “But I would like to remind you that I am a nurse, and you are my patient. And we will not have a relationship that goes anywhere beyond that. I would appreciate it if we could continue this relationship professionally whether it be in the hallways or a treatment room. I thank you for your patience and understanding.”

Allie turned her body towards the cabinets when she froze in her tracks, caught off guard by Bradley’s loud laugh. “Oh-my-God!” Bradley managed to say in between laughs, “How many times have you said that?”

Allie was in fumes, upset with his reaction. “You see,” He said, still in a fit of laughter, “Here I am being genuine in my apology, and here you are with the same old bullshit boring speech that you give the ordinary midshipmen”. Bradley was still laughing, but Allie could have nothing more to do with this conversation.

She turned her body and grabbed his chart off the counter, stealing one last glance at him, her face red with rage. Turning her back towards him and heading to the door, she froze again, finding the anger getting the best of her. “Listen here!” She snapped, facing him and letting him have it, “Your ‘apology’ was anything but. An apology is saying “sorry” and all I heard you say was nothing but excuses and vulgar language!” Bradley had stopped laughing and was growing anxious as she was walking towards him, “and don’t even think for a second that you’re anything out of the ordinary ‘Midshipman Bradshaw’. You are completely ordinary! In fact, even the most ordinary of men here have more originality than you! And it’s not at all about the bet! It’s about the fact that a 22 year old man can’t even come up and simply ask me out on a date without having to get his no good, immature, teenage roommate involved! Now there is nothing more bullshit than that!”

Allie stormed out of the room, letting the door slam behind her as she stomped through the pavement, halfway between room 1 and the sliding glass doors of the hospital, she slowed her pace and then quickly came to a complete halt.

What did I just do? She thought to herself, completely embarrassed about her lack of professionalism. Had she just put her entire future at risk? Her job? Her security blanket? But more importantly, did she just admit that she wanted Bradley to ask her out on a date? She didn’t mean it the way it came out. She wasn’t interested! At all! But would going out with him be so bad? And if he didn’t fuck up and just asked the normal way, would she have said no?

Of course I would have! She answered her thoughts. I would have rejected him just as hard as I’ve rejected others in the academy. She didn’t care that he was much older and more mature than plenty of the other ‘ya-who’s’ on campus. Before she knew it, she was storming back to room 1, throwing the door open, and finding Bradley in the same position that she left him in–paralyzed with shock on the chair that was next to the exam table.

She looked at him, and he looked at her. She was covered in anger and he was completely flabbergasted. No one knew what to say.

“If that wasn’t bullshit, what was I wearing?” She demanded to know. His eyes squinted in confusion, his lips parted on his smooth shaven face.

“The night we met,” she answered, reading his mind. “What was I wearing?”

She stood above him like a queen looking down on the poorest of peasants, knowing the full power she had over him in this moment. She had got him in his own game! From her experience, any man that ever wanted to sleep with her only noticed two things, her eyes, and the shape of her perky breasts. And he was about to be caught red-handed in the same league as those ‘ordinary’ assholes that she has fought against for years. 

Bradley looked down, adjusting his shoes and tying a lace that had gotten loose. She watched as he did this, finally noticing that he was wearing the camo pants of his working uniform and a black skin tight shirt that was showing off the muscles that he had begun forming, they were still underdeveloped, but further along than any other midshipman that she had seen on base.

He sniffled and stood up, keeping his head down as he answered her question, “You were wearing a red dress with white flowers printed all over them. It was loose, and swayed in the breeze that hit you on the dock. Your hair was out of your regular ponytail, curled more than it is now. You had on an anklet that showed in the sunlight, and later on I saw that you had on a locket. It had an “A” printed on it. Your toes were painted a light pink. It was the same color as your nails. And you had white sandals that you carried instead of wore. And studs in your ears that were opals'' Bradley was now at her shoulder as he looked down at her, a complete shift in the power…now he was the king and she was the peasant. She held a flabbergasted expression on her face.

He didn’t say anything else, slowly walking towards the door, “Thank you for the care, nurse Campbell.” he said to her as he left the room, proving he knew another detail of her life–taking the time to learn her full name rather than her bra size.

Allie stood there in shock, focusing on nothing but breathing as she reached into the neck of her scrubs and pulled out the golden locket that was attached to a golden chain. She rubbed her thumb against the “A” that was on the face of the heart. She kept her gaze forward as she regained her composure.

She knew that she made a lot of solid points, and that her analysis of this man was legit. He was less than ordinary, and a complete ass, but she was wrong about one thing… it wasn’t all bullshit.