#Patient Locator System

[julesnichols]

IT at my job get your shit together challenge!!!

[alicentrasers]

I appreciate all the ones that don't charge, but they can be hard to find

having to pay for parking at a hospital will always be fucking deranged to me. Sorry

[chase-solidago]

So you found a dead body in the woods

The worst thing you've worried about, going on hikes, happens. This happens often, in the grand scheme of things. It's always joggers and dogwalkers and hikers. My unlucky day came on October 24, 2022.

So what do you do when you find a dead body?

Look in the other direction and take a breath. Panic wont help you or them.

If you are comfortable, approach them and try to help. If not, it's okay. I was unwilling to approach (they looked real dead) and my 911 operator was 100% totally supportive and okay with that.

Walk a little ways away. There is no reason why you need to keep staring at them. It's okay. Seeing a dead person is really wack!

When you've caught your breath, call 911. My first thought was "Oh god, I don't want to talk to cops." and, good news, it's not cops! 911 responders are different people. They are trained to talk to you, to reassure you, and to help you. They are there for you. They understand you are freaking out. They are kind and patient.

Your new buddy, the 911 person, will help you figure out where you are, exactly. They have access to your location via cell-tower and GPS, but if, like me, you were off-trail (oops), they might need your help navigating to you. I offered to also send a photo, and he provided an email, which he received immediately. I deleted the photo I took right away.

Hang out on the phone with your dispatch friend. They're going to want to keep in touch with you as the paramedics approach. Are you freaking out by chattering too much? Are you freaking out by being dead silent? Both are okay! Apparently, my panic response is to become Super Midwestern Chatty. I was able to make him laugh, which I count as a win.

Holler to the paramedics. My paramedics came deep into the ravine-filled woods, about six men, steering a rolling bed thing. We shouted at each other until they made it to the body. It would have been funny, watching them fumble along, if it wasn't so serious.

Get out of there! The paramedics don't need anything from you. They're busy doing their job. They shooed me back to the trail and to the parking lot. I didn't have to go anywhere near the body.

Meet cops in the parking lot. In my situation, the cops didn't want anything from me. They were just picking their noses in the parking lot while the paramedics did the real work. The cops said thanks for helping, while covering their bodycams, because they're pigs.

Go eat donuts. Christ, that was a lot. Let yourself comedown and get some sugar to kickstart your system.

Feel good that you gave a family closure. Yeah, that sucked. Yeah, your therapist is going to hear about this. Yeah, next time you come to this location, you're going to need a friend with you. But you did the right thing. You'll never know their family, but know that you gave them closure.

[aymanfamily]

Evacuation of my Neurological Patient Brother 🥹🙏

Dear Friends and Supporters,

I’m reaching out to you today, on behalf of my husband, with an urgent request for assistance. My family is currently facing an unimaginable situation as I desperately seek to evacuate them from the ongoing crisis in Gaza including my brother-in-law, who is a neurological patient, and my mother-in-law who is 70 years old, and she is not only grapples with the challenges of aging but also shoulders the burden of chronic illnesses, including high blood pressure and diabetes. My brother-in-law's condition requires specialized medical care, as he suffers from a benign tumor in the cerebellum. He underwent two major surgeries to remove the tumor, and an internal valve was installed to drain the cerebrospinal fluid.

This operation led to a permanent disability in movement and stiffness in the muscles of the legs, especially the left side. He needs constant follow-up and permanent rehabilitation treatment, as he was receiving two physical therapy sessions weekly to relieve muscle stiffness, but since the beginning of the aggression on the Gaza Strip (more than 4 months ago), he has not received this service, and in the same context, he needs daily medication which is simply not available now in Gaza, as the healthcare system in the Gaza Strip has been severely impacted by the ongoing conflict, with limited resources and a shortage of medical supplies. It is crucial that we act quickly to evacuate him to a safer location where he can receive the necessary medical attention and support, in addition to the evacuation of 6 other members of my family.

As many of you may be aware, Gaza has been experiencing a devastating humanitarian crisis for years. The recent Israeli aggression on the Gaza Strip has worsened the situation, leaving innocent civilians trapped and in desperate need of help. Knowing that we live in Gaza City, but the Israeli occupation army forced us to evacuate our homes and move to the center or south of the Gaza Strip. We left our home on 13th Oct. 2023 and moved to the center of the Gaza Strip, which was supposed to be a safe area, but then the Israeli soldiers began military operations in the central region. Therefore, we were forced to move to Rafah, living in a house including 20 members. Currently the Israeli Occupation Forces are threatening to invade Rafah, where 1.4 million people are taking refuge in an area of 55 km2. If Rafah is invaded, more massacres will be committed in addition to the massacres that were and are currently being committed in all areas of the Gaza Strip. Note that our house was directly hit by a missile, and currently the Israeli army does not allow us to return to Gaza city and to our homes, in addition to the fact that Gaza currently does not have the minimum necessities of life, such as electricity or clean water, in addition to the scarcity of resources. So, in an attempt to save our lives, we are planning to evacuate to Egypt, but the cost of evacuation is exorbitant, far beyond what our family can afford, therefore I'm setting up a GoFundMe campaign to raise USD $59,000. Here is the breakdown of the funds: • A total of USD $49,000 is estimated to cover the expenses associated with obtaining permits to leave Gaza, as well as crossing fees at Rafah, at the Egypt-Gaza border. This amount breaks down to USD$ 5,000 - $7,000 per person (7 people). • It is estimated that USD $10000 will be sufficient to cover the basic needs of my family in Egypt, including their accommodation, food, and other essential. Every donation, no matter how big or small, will make a difference. Even the smallest contribution can help us an inch closer to our goal of saving our life. Knowing that times are tough, and the invasion of Rafah could happen at any time, noting that the crossing with Egypt is in the city of Rafah, and it is possible that the crossing will be closed at any time due to the invasion, so I hope you help as soon as possible. Many thanks in advance for your contribution to save our lives.

My gofundme link:

Thanks for your trust and support ❤️🙏

[reasonsforhope]

"Doctors have begun trialling the world’s first mRNA lung cancer vaccine in patients, as experts hailed its “groundbreaking” potential to save thousands of lives.

Lung cancer is the world’s leading cause of cancer death, accounting for about 1.8m deaths every year. Survival rates in those with advanced forms of the disease, where tumours have spread, are particularly poor.

Now experts are testing a new jab that instructs the body to hunt down and kill cancer cells – then prevents them ever coming back. Known as BNT116 and made by BioNTech, the vaccine is designed to treat non-small cell lung cancer (NSCLC), the most common form of the disease.

The phase 1 clinical trial, the first human study of BNT116, has launched across 34 research sites in seven countries: the UK, US, Germany, Hungary, Poland, Spain and Turkey.

The UK has six sites, located in England and Wales, with the first UK patient to receive the vaccine having their initial dose on Tuesday [August 20, 2024].

Overall, about 130 patients – from early-stage before surgery or radiotherapy, to late-stage disease or recurrent cancer – will be enrolled to have the jab alongside immunotherapy. About 20 will be from the UK.

The jab uses messenger RNA (mRNA), similar to Covid-19 vaccines, and works by presenting the immune system with tumour markers from NSCLC to prime the body to fight cancer cells expressing these markers.

The aim is to strengthen a person’s immune response to cancer while leaving healthy cells untouched, unlike chemotherapy.

“We are now entering this very exciting new era of mRNA-based immunotherapy clinical trials to investigate the treatment of lung cancer,” said Prof Siow Ming Lee, a consultant medical oncologist at University College London hospitals NHS foundation trust (UCLH), which is leading the trial in the UK.

“It’s simple to deliver, and you can select specific antigens in the cancer cell, and then you target them. This technology is the next big phase of cancer treatment.”

Janusz Racz, 67, from London, was the first person to have the vaccine in the UK. He was diagnosed in May and soon after started chemotherapy and radiotherapy.

The scientist, who specialises in AI, said his profession inspired him to take part in the trial. “I am a scientist too, and I understand that the progress of science – especially in medicine – lies in people agreeing to be involved in such investigations,” he said...

“And also, I can be a part of the team that can provide proof of concept for this new methodology, and the faster it would be implemented across the world, more people will be saved.”

Racz received six consecutive injections five minutes apart over 30 minutes at the National Institute for Health Research UCLH Clinical Research Facility on Tuesday.

Each jab contained different RNA strands. He will get the vaccine every week for six consecutive weeks, and then every three weeks for 54 weeks.

Lee said: “We hope adding this additional treatment will stop the cancer coming back because a lot of time for lung cancer patients, even after surgery and radiation, it does come back.” ...

“We hope to go on to phase 2, phase 3, and then hope it becomes standard of care worldwide and saves lots of lung cancer patients.”

The Guardian revealed in May that thousands of patients in England were to be fast-tracked into groundbreaking trials of cancer vaccines in a revolutionary world-first NHS “matchmaking” scheme to save lives.

Under the scheme, patients who meet the eligibility criteria will gain access to clinical trials for the vaccines that experts say represent a new dawn in cancer treatment."

-via The Guardian, May 30, 2024

[dollgxtz]

Roleplay with Zayne...

✧˖° Just a thought but…I see people say doctor x patient roleplay with Zayne would be hot but I can’t help but think he would be too busy pointing out plot holes and taking it a little too serious LOL.

Word Count: 446

Tags: zayne x gn!reader, sfw, funny, fluff <3

You lounged on the edge of the bed, your leg crossed just enough to hint at something more, as Zayne adjusted the stethoscope hanging around his neck. The pristine lab coat he usually wore to work fit him perfectly, and his usual serious expression made him look like this was genuinely an examination.

He clicked the end of his pen and looked at you expectantly, his clipboard poised in hand. “Shall we begin?” he asked in that smooth, professional tone.

You let your lips curl into a sly smile. “Doctor, I’ve been feeling…strange lately. Like, really tense. I think I need a hands-on examination.”

Zayne tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “Hmm. Tension could be due to several factors. Could you be more specific about the location? Is it muscular, neurological, or psychological?”

You blinked, caught off guard for a moment. “Oh, it’s…all over,” you replied, recovering quickly and leaning forward, lowering your voice to a suggestive whisper. “Maybe you could check for yourself?”

Zayne stroked his chin thoughtfully, his gaze narrowing in concentration. “‘All over’? That’s highly unusual,” he said, tapping his clipboard. “Are you experiencing fever or chills? Perhaps this is an early indication of a systemic issue—though I must question why you waited until now to seek assistance. This could have been an emergency.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “Zayne…you’re not supposed to focus on the symptoms,” you said, trying to stay patient. “You’re supposed to—”

“Not focus on the symptoms?” he interrupted, looking genuinely alarmed. “How can I, as your doctor, ensure accurate treatment without proper diagnostic attention?”

You opened your mouth to argue but decided it wasn’t worth it. Instead, you inhaled deeply, trying a different tactic. “Okay, fine,” you said, waving a hand. “Maybe it’s… stress-related. Maybe I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to…relax.”

Zayne nodded solemnly, as if this was the most logical explanation. “Stress is a common factor,” he said. “I could prescribe a course of action to alleviate that. Let’s see… meditation? Yoga? Perhaps I should refer you to a licensed therapist to explore these deeper issues—”

“The therapy I need,” you interrupted sharply, cutting him off, “involves you. Right now. In this room.”

He blinked at you, his face perfectly blank for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Unorthodox,” he admitted, “but I suppose direct intervention could be beneficial. Very well. I’ll need you to lie down.”

Finally. Some action. You let out a relieved sigh, leaning back and sliding onto the bed. “Oh, gladly—”

“Now,” Zayne said, grabbing his clipboard again and flipping to a fresh page. “Tell me about your sleep schedule. Do you consume any caffeine past 3 PM?”

“…”

“…”

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

Ch. 5: Skylight

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After a dangerous mission where you almost die, Optimus breaks up with you without knowing you are carrying his sparkling. It's not until seven months later that the universe allows you both to meet once again.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

5K

Ch.5 Skylight

....

He hasn’t felt a single thing since you disappeared. 

He didn’t even know if he was allowed to feel something. He had a team that depended on his good judgement and sanity to keep things in order. 

But right now, could he be allowed one moment of weakness?

Maybe this is something he should discuss with you. He wants to hear your opinion on this and he wants to see his sparkling, see how they are doing. 

But where are you?

Where is his sparkling?

He wants to see you both. He needs to. If he doesn’t then this aching in his spark won’t ever stop. 

He wants to hold you, to know that you are safe. That his sparkling is still strong and growing inside of you. That it will soon come to this world and greet him. 

Where are you? Where is the sparkling?

Where?

Where? 

Where? 

Where? 

Where?

Where?

WARNING: PROCESSOR UNABLE TO UNDERSTAND LOSS. UNABLE TO KEEP ONLINE. LOCATE SPARKMATE IMMEDIATELY. SURVIVAL CODES ACTIVATED. 

From a distance, he can see you. Carrying his sparkling in your arms and singing lullabies to him. A field of sunflowers surrenders you. You and his sparkling bask in the light coming from the sky. That’s exactly what the two of you were to him. The light that brightens his darkest hour. 

“Optimus.”

Ratchet looks at the berth where the Prime rested. Unconscious and immobilized. His body had given up and after the groundbridge explosion and unable to locate you, he had gone into shock.

“How is he doing?”

“Stable but in a deep sleep.”

Arcee approached the doctor. Concern in her faceplate to watch the leader in such a state. Everyone had been able to get out of the bridge safely, the ground bridge explosion had sent them to their wished destination. But you were the only one affected. Ratchet had mentioned that due to you being an organic and the sparkling having Cybertronian features, the groundbridge wasn’t able to locate you properly, sending you somewhere else. Or maybe …

No, she couldn’t think like that.

If you are gone, everything is gone. Inside you was Cybertron’s first sparkling in eons, you had become a symbol of hope for everyone. Even the Decepticons, in their own twisted ways. For Optimus? He simply couldn’t live without you. 

“What are we going to do?”

Arcee asks the medic to which he only turns to look at her.

“What do you want to do?”

Ratchet’s doesn’t sound hopeless but assertive. He is waiting patiently and that’s when Arcee understood what he was trying to imply.

“I can’t–”

“Bumblebee is too young, Bulkhead can’t think quickly and I am certainly no leader,” Ratchet says as he looks at the Prime on his medic belt. His vital signs are steady but the signals in his processor were showing distress as if he was having a nightmare. “You need to step up … for all of us. Especially if there’s a chance they are still alive.”

“Is there?”

“... Cybertronians emit unique frequencies. They are our version of human fingerprints,” Ratchet started working on his computer, pulling files after files. Data that Arcee didn’t even bother to try and understand. “I was able to make a registry of Optimus and (Reader)’s sparkling and tried locating them using Earth’s satellite and found nothing.”

“Does that mean … they–”

“No,” Ratchet says and Arcee’s faceplate immediately relaxes. 

“I input the frequency into our database system and made a universal search. I couldn’t find anything. A sparkling’s spark wouldn’t disappear into nothingness, it's pure energy. It cannot be destroyed. It would return to the Well of All Sparks and even so, I would have been able to track it.”

“Meaning?” Arcee wished that Ratchet didn’t gave out so many explanations but even she knew she had to listen to all of it before deciding what the next step would be. 

“Meaning that (Reader) and the sparkling are alive but are not in this universe. The groundbridge explosion must have sent them into another dimension.” 

Then, Arcee’s processor started to make connections. 

“Then, if we input the sparkling’s frequencies into the ground bridge …could it take us to where they are?”

“Possibly but we are going to need a vast source of energy to repair the groundbridge and the quantum physics to travel across dimensions will take some time to decipher.”

“Leave the energy gathering to us,” Arcee quickly says. The idea of dimensional travel doesn’t sound so crazy after what happened with Dreadwing. “Start the preparations. Do you need anything else?”

“Bring Rafael on the way, I’ll need an extra pair of .. hands.”

“You go it,” before she left, Arcee takes another look at their Leader. Who, against all odds, always keeps pushing forward. Because he was hope reincarnated and all she could do was to follow those steps.  “Let us know if there are any improvements on Optimus' status.”

“I will,” Ratchet looks at Optimus, his old friend, so vulnerable and yet, he doesn’t give up.  “But don’t expect much.”

.

.

.

“This is a daisy … and this is a sunflower … this a rose.”

You didn’t expect to be spending so much time with Jetfire. 

“And this one?”

“Oh, that’s a mushroom, that's a totally different species.”

Yet, here you are. 

You would have never figured out that Nemesis Prime had a private garden of his own. Around the size of a football field and with an open ceiling, it was your favorite place to be. You could forget for a moment your situation. 

It's not like Prime had you captive, he allowed you to go anywhere … as long as Jetfire went with you. He had become sort of a bodyguard to you.

“I can’t believe it,” Jetfire was in disbelief, his optics widened as a sudden realization hit him. “You, the plants, the animals … your kind cannot live without one or the other … your entire ecosystem … all of it is just one big creature. Everything is connected.”

“Doesn’t Cybertron have an ecosystem?” you ask as you sat in the grass, you gathered a couple of flowers to make flower crowns. 

“Cybertronians are … and invasive species. We can live at any place as long as there is energon we can mine,” Jetfire looks at you with curiosity. Wondering why you would take the life of such beautiful flowers. “Unlike your species who can only live on Earth, we don’t depend on one and other to survive.”

“Is that why … Maybe Cybertronians have such a hard time creating meaningful connections?” you ask, thinking about how even their way of speaking is formal to one and the other. “Never asking for help, living for millions of years, not having the necessity to reproduce either to continue the species … kinda solitary, right?”

“Correct,” Jetfire’s voice is sad as much as it is gentle. “And  between Cybertronians, the creation of another Cybertronian is not an easy task either.”

“And yet, it was so easy for you,” he looks at you with so much wonder and excitement. You never thought how easy it was for humans to reproduce and create new life. To Cybertronians the creation of life was a complete miracle. To you? An everyday thing.  “How does it feel?”

“Well … It's actually kicking right now … do you want to feel them?”

Jetfire reaches a servo towards you. You can see that he is scared by the way he is slow and his servo trembles. Wanting to make him feel comfortable, you put a hand on his servo and guide him towards your belly. 

He puts the servo on your belly and waits. When suddenly he feels something move underneath him. 

He quickly moves his servo and moves a few inches away from you. 

“Sorry, did it scare you?”

“A little … I understand now why Nemesis wants you guarded all the time. You are too valuable. If the wrong individuals were to find out, they will try to capture and keep you and the sparkling for their own benefit.”

This sparks your curiosity and from making your flower-crown, you look at Jetfire. 

“Wait, wrong individuals? I thought the war was over.”

“My apologies, I have spoken too much.”

“No, you—”

Out of nowhere, Jetfire receives a call from his comm-link and quickly answers. You wished you could hear what he has been told but by the look on Jetfire's face, it must be a call from Nemesis Prime. 

“Understood,”Jetfire finishes the call and looks back at you. “Prime wishes to see you. He has requested that you shower and use luxurious fabrics to decorate your body.”

“He wants me to get dressed? Do you know why?”

“Not certain,” he says. “But do not worry, I don’t think Nemesis would want to procreate with you while you are still with sparkling. Although I am sure he is making his preparations for after you give ... birth.”

“He wants another sparkling?” You didn’t want to show your real emotions. You tried to act as calmly as possible but the thought that you might have to bed Nemesis scared you. He was Optimus but it wasn’t your Optimus. 

“Well yes, everyone wants you to have as many sparklings as possible,” From curious, Jetfire’s voice now sounded optimistic.  “We haven’t seen a sparkling in millenia, so everyone is excited. It has lifted our morale.”

“Oh so that’s what you want me to do? Breed me like a cow until I am no longer of use?”

“What is a cow?”

You sigh heavily.

…

It’s been a long while since you took the time to dress up. It was hard and you had many questions. Where did Nemesis get all of this fabrics from? And did he expect you to just wrap them around your body? From what you knew, fabrics in Cybertron were rare. Only those in the high class could afford buying fabrics and only wore them around certain parts of their bodies. 

So you tried your best to wear the fabric around your body, the white silk wrapped across your curves and you feel like a Roman. But thankful for wearing something clean. You feel your sparkling move inside you, probably sharing your happiness. 

“Excited to eat Energon, little one?” you ask your sparkling as you rub your belly. “I just hope I get to eat some human food. I don’t think I can live off Energon.”

Now you sit at a large table. 

Waiting for Nemesis to show up. Trembling hands and feeling cold. You didn’t know what to expect. 

You couldn’t believe that there exists a version of Optimus that lost the Matrix of Leadership by merit. That he didn’t care about this planet and its inhabitants. To the point that it can no longer host humans?

What kind of evil monster … is Nemesis Prime?

And what kind of thing was able to break the unbreakable Optimus Prime?

The doors of the main room open only to reveal the one you were thinking of. 

Standing tall and carrying a silver tray. He walks towards you. You didn’t break eye contact, feeling that he will attack you the moment you take your eyes away from him. Noticing your discomfort, Nemesis began to walk slower. 

He makes sure to be close enough to you and delicately puts the silver tray in front of you. 

Nemesis didn’t mass-shift, still standing at, around 32 feet tall. Yet his movements were all measured. As to not scare or harm you. He takes a few steps back, giving you space to finally guarantee you some sense of safety so you could take a look at the tray before you.

It was kinda like a charcuterie board. With many fruits and vegetables. Edible plants and breads. A tray that was too big for you and definitely something that you will never be able to finish eating even if you had three extra lives. 

Your mouth waters and a part of you wanted to jump and start eating to your heart’s content. 

“I made it myself.”

He finally spoke to you.

And the shock was so great that you stopped your actions and immediately looked back at him. 

“My apologies, I shouldn’t have spoken.”

Nemesis looks down, his optics showed something but what you only thought would be embarrassment. 

“I am thankful that you have finally decided to speak to me,” you say, trying to be gentle with your words. Although it wasn’t your Optimus, you had missed his voice. “Could you please … get closer to me?”

You couldn’t be scared forever and you knew that if you wanted to make any progress, you needed him to get on his good side. That was the only way you could get back to your dimension. 

Nemesis does as he is told and slowly gets closer to you. You can tell that he is nervous by the way his optics try to look at you but suddenly looks away. 

But this time he is more courageous and dares to look at you longer. He analyzes your body and in his collected data, he identifies a peculiar sound. Two heart beats. One belonging to you and the other sounding similar to a spark. 

It was constant, gentle, kind. His sparkling was alive. You were alive. 

Nemesis lets out a heavy ex-vent, his voice glitched as he released his breath of pure relief. 

“I had prayed and dreamt of this moment. Are you certain that this is not an illusion? A dream perhaps?”

“I am very much real.”

“You have to be,” he says. “Otherwise I’ll kill whoever dares to wake me up.”

“You are very different from my Optimus,” you thought how the word ‘kill’ would never come out of intake. “He wouldn't dare to say something like that.”

“You don’t belong to him anymore. The past shall not repeat itself by endorsing foolish ideologies of the past.”

“I never thought your ideologies were foolish,” you say, not breaking eye contact. “I loved that about you.”

“Loved?” His voice glitched and for a moment you saw him again. Deep down on his yellow optics, he was there. 

“My Optimus and I are not on the best of terms. He had broken up with me and then a lot of things happened. MECH was looking for me so I decided to stay with the rest of the Autobots until the baby is born. I’ll be relocated to a new place when the sparkling is here.”

“It … hasn’t happened yet.” 

“I am sorry?”

“My apologies, I am just talking to myself,” Nemesis breaks eye contact and then points at your silver platter.  “Please enjoy your meal. I wish for our sparkling to grow strong.”

Feeling like the atmosphere was calmer, you decided to switch the topic to a more intimate one. 

“Jetfire mentioned that you would like to have more sparklings,” you didn’t know how long you’ll be here so you had to ensure your safety. But you had to be smart about it. 

“Yes, when the time is right.”

“I don’t want to,” you simply say.  “I don’t want to be here just for that.”

“I shall never do something you do not wish,” there was desperation in his voice. Something that looks odd coming from such an intimidated mech.  “If you so wish, I’ll even swear to never speak another word to you. Your wishes are my sole reason for existence.” 

“Just please, allow me to be the one to full-fill every single of your needs and wants. That shall be enough for me. Allow me to be yours and please be mine.”

You have to be a fool to fall for words like that. 

And oh,how stupid you are.

You take a moment to look at him. His blue and red paint had rusted away. Only leaving black and grey colors. He had stopped caring for his appearance and you can tell by the amount of dent and scratches on his body. His broken windows and his battlemask that he wasn’t taken off. 

You wonder if it's uncomfortable for him and you also want to see him. All of him.

“Can I see your faceplate?”

And then … An explosion.

Debris everywhere. Nemesis used his entire body to protect you from the falling ceiling and yet you were still dizzy. Disoriented. The magnitude of the bomb was that enough to hurt any Cybertronian. 

Nemesis falls to the ground, his injuries were too big for him to withstand. 

You couldn’t do anything when a figure came down and grabbed you by the waist. Taking you away as Nemesis stretched out an arm towards you, his pleading optics begged for you to be returned to him. Only for his injuries to get the best of him and make him succumb to his pain. 

You closed your eyes, your body unable to stay awake.

.

.

.

You wake up only to find humans looking down on you.

For  a moment you were thankful. Seeing humans meant that you were back home, right? Maybe everything was just a bad dream.

“Sebastian, run analysis.”

A human male quickly gets close to you. His human eyes suddenly turned blue. Similar to that of a Cybertronian. This took you off guard, and immediately you backed away. 

Seeing your reaction, a female human grabs him by the arm and pulls him back. She looks at you tenderly. 

“It’s alright, you are safe now,” she says. “Sebastian just wants to make sure you or your sparklings don’t have any injuries.” 

Her gentle voice calms you down, but unconsciously places a hand on your belly.  Sebastian, learning from his previous mistake, kept a more comfortable distance. His blue eyes let out a scan light, your body basked on it. It did you no harm. 

“The sparkling is healthy but she is malnourished. Pure organics can’t live off Energon. I recommend giving her a proper meal.”

“Maya, could you prepare her something?” 

Another male asks. He stands in front of you and everyone looks around him. 

“Copy that, boss,” Maya stands up before giving you a smile. 

The male, who seemed to be the leader of the group, stands up as well. 

“Alright, let’s get back to work,” he says. “I’ll take it from here.”

.

.

.

The base was hidden in a cave, on top of a mountain where a waterfall covered the entrance. 

There was as much metal as there was organic materials. With walls made with nails and steel, and flowers where bees were free to feed from. 

But what surprised you the most, was them. 

These humans were not completely human. 

“You weren’t the only one who had a relationship with a Cybertronian.”

You had yet to ask his name but from what you could tell, everyone respected him. He is the captain of whatever movement this was. 

“After Nemesis Prime called the rest of Cybertronians to come to Earth to conquer it, many formed sentimental relationships with other humans.”

The two of you passed by a station, Sebastian was ‘repairing’ the hand of another human. His entire hand, made of circuits, bols and metal but the rest of his body was made out of bone and flesh. 

“That’s Sebastian, designation, Bluewind,” the boss waves to the two and they return the gesture. “He is our medic, his mother was one of the few Cybetronian nurses. His father was a pilot.” 

“The other guy sitting down is Malik, designation, MoonBlazer,” 

You noticed how Malik turned his hand into a modern, alien-like gun. 

“Our weapon expert. His mother was a farmer and his father a Cybertronian smith.” 

You had many questions. But you waited for the leader to finish talking, to first explain his position.

He shows you another section. A woman with scientific  tools and strange liquids in her section. Her table was filled with books and notebooks, written in a language you couldn’t read. Plants all around her and even some insects. 

“This is Shadi, designation RoseStorm, our scientist,” the leader points at a green liquid on her desk. “She’s trying to create some type of synthetic-energon. We don’t really need it since we can also eat organic food but it will create a great negotiation with the other side if she does pull it off.”

“Why are you showing me all of this?” You finally dare to ask, no longer having the patient even though you enjoyed the introductions. 

“Because we are The Resistance and you are a very valuable asset to our cause,” he says.  “We have a few Cybertronians on our side, one of them being JetFire.”

Jetfire’s name made you remember the time spent with him. He had always been kind to you and there was always a curious aura around him. He treated you delicately and the way he discussed nature made you wonder what kind of bot was Jetfire before the war. You can see him as a scientist, always curious, always wanting to learn more.

“He had been loyal to Nemesis all this time until he met you,” the leader's voice is strong and somehow still gentle. Although it didn’t sound mature, you didn’t expect it to be, after all, he looked to be young.  “He contacted us and told us about your situation. Groundbringe explosion, interdimensional time-travel, you carrying the sparkling of Nemesis Prime–”

“Optimus Prime is the father of my child,” you immediately cut him off.  “Not Nemesis.”

“Well, Nemesis is what he is now, and he destroyed this world, to the point that it's no longer habitable for humans.”

There was a sharp pain in your heart. He reminded you of the harsh truth and yet you didn’t want to accept it. You couldn’t believe nor wanted to. Your Optimus, had become that which he hated. And yet, on Nemesis yellow optics, you can see a faint light of who he used to be.

“But you guys are here.”

“We are not completely human,” the leader looks around and so you do. Noticing how everyone used their transforming abilities to accomplish their jobs. “We are hybrids. We age slowly like Cybertronians do. Some can transform certain parts of their bodies. Some more than others. And others like me …”

He makes a pause and puts a hand on his chest.

“We can’t transform at all,” he says.  “Nemesis Prime took my transformation cog the day I was born.”

You will never fully know that feeling. There was a time when Bumblebee was unable to transform for a couple of days. He described it as feeling empty. Like a void. Like you know you are born to do something. One simple thing. But you can’t. Its like having a constant craving to draw but you are unable to pick up a pencil. 

“We’ve been attacking from the shadows, gathering our strength but eventually, we’ll show ourselves to the rest of the world.”

And now, Jetfire’s words made sense. The war wasn’t over but it had just started it. 

“Now that you are here, it is our time to rise up.” 

Unconsciously, his words ran a shiver down your spine. Strong enough that you were sure your sparkling felt it. 

“What are you planning?”

“Nemesis’ dismantlement and governmental surrounder. Right now, I am sure he has his entire Army looking for you. This is the perfect moment to strike. If we take Icon City, we can sneak into the Hall of Records.”

“And that’s important because…?”

“Because there we can find the location of the AllSpark,” he simply says as he walks towards another station. You follow closely, wanting to hear more about his plan.  “And if we find where Nemesis is hiding it, we’ll have all of New Cybertron at our disposal.” 

“And after that, we’ll help you get back to your dimension,” he reaches a desk where he picks up a cowboy hat. Now that you take a closer look at him, he doesn’t have a fashion sense at all. None of them do. It’s not like you could blame them, they don’t have any idea of how humans used to dress. 

 “You don’t hold any responsibility for Nemesis actions nor does your sparkling.”

You stay quiet and look around you one more time. Everything looks so alien to you. It feels off, you know you don’t belong here but you are afraid of how long you have to stay. Your mind drifts to your friends. Are they worried? Is Optimus going crazy? How will you even get back?

“My father used to tell me stories of how great Optimus Prime used to be,” his voice breaks your thoughts, it was comforting.  “So I am glad that in another dimension, he has his happy ending with you.”

You are curious about him. Wondering about the story of the cogless boy that became leader of the resistance. 

“Who was your father, if I can ask?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, I am the son of Megatron, Leader of the Resistance,” he says as he puts on the cowboy hat. 

“My human name is Sam, designation, Skylight.”

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Answering Questions you all may have: 

Why do the Cybertronians stay on Earth if they have the AllSpark?

Earth has the biggest source of Energon in the galaxy, however, Nemesis knows it won’t last forever, they have to expand eventually. The AllSpark, is what creates new Cybertronian Life. But in this fanfic canon, the AllSpark can also take lives. Nemesis plans to build a weapon of destruction by using the AllSpark in which he would be able to destroy organic lives in an instant without suffering.  But this idea is still in the works. 

Cybertron can never be habitable again due that the Matrix of Leadership is gone and is needed for the production of Energon. 

How come Megatron is Sam’s father if in Nemesis’ letter, he admitted to killing Megatron?

While Optimus was going on a rampage, Ratchet was able to resuscitate Megatron. (Since the letter to himself was written from his point of view, this wasn’t mentioned) Ratchet tells Megatron to leave and disappear. But as he was to leave the MECH building, he heard the sad chirping of a sparkling. Left in an ammunition box (Probably left behind by a human nurse who felt pity for the baby and wanted to save him from dissection.) And when Megatron picked up the baby, he noticed his transformation cog had been missing. 

Meg thought he had given Optimus the sparkling’s spark chamber but turns out, he actually gave him his transformation cog! He was the first human-cybertronian sparkling so his anatomy was completely different. This one didn’t have a spark but a heart. 

Megs thought of returning the sparkling to Optimus but seeing that Optimus was drowning in madness and grief, he didn’t want the sparkling growing up nor seeing his father like that. So he took him under his wing. (I should written a chapter about this with Meg’s POV but its too late for that now lol)

This is why Sam sees Megatron as his father figure … Megs disappearance is surrounded in mystery. 

And yes, Sam is Optimus and Reader’s sparkling.

…….

… If any of y'all have any more questions, let me know! Honestly, and I mean this seriously, DO NOT expect any kind of well-thought writing in this fic. This was supposed to be a one-shot fanfiction that got turned into a multi-chapter fic due to popular demand. And this is the fic I least worry about. I think it has good ideas and has the potential for more but I definitely don’t have the patience nor time. 

So, this story will conclude in the next chapter … at MAX, in two. 

Now, I have two possible endings for this fic and I want you guys to help me out on deciding which ending I should go for. 

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD, DO NOT READ ONLY IF YOU WANT TO HELP ME OUT TO FIGURE OUT THE ENDING!!!!!

Ending 1: Nemesis realizes his wrong doings and makes the ultimate sacrifice. He is given the ultimatum. Save the world or let his son (Sam) die. Nemesis chooses to save the world and Sam dies, proving once again that he is worthy of the Matrix of Leadership. He accepts the burden and he will atone his sins by continuing living by doing what’s good until the day of his days.

Optimus and Reader return to their dimension and they live happily ever after. 

Ending 2: Sam makes a sacrifice and he is given the Matrix of leadership. Along with Optimus, he defeats Nemesis. But they let him live. After learning that Sam is his son and that Nemesis almost kills him, Nemesis sacrifices himself to save the world. Ending the story. Finally fulfilling your dying wish … to protect your sparkling. 

Optimus and Reader return to their dimension and they love happily ever after. 

Which one do you all prefer or anyone got better ideas?

END OF SPOILERS!!!

…..

Lastly, I feel like I have strained too far away from the original concept of the story and there’s no going back. I may never finish this and if there isn't much interest, then I’ll abandon this story hehe, back to writing my one true love, The Darkest Hour~~~ 

Ok that’s it byeeeee 

Ps. sorry for the bad grammar, spelling and structure and everything :)

.....

Previous:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/776307984290725888/counting-stars?source=share

Next: Soon.

[faunandfloraas]

After The Rain - Seungmin for the June issue of Harper's Bazaar Korea by Yoon Hye-young - interview under the cut

How was the Harper's Bazaar shoot today? It rained on and off all day, was it gloomy?

Seungmin: When we started, I was worried because it was raining so hard, but then the sun came out and it felt like it was meant to be. I loved the location, and I actually have this running scene as my phone wallpaper these days. (Shows phone screen) Cows running around at the foot of the Alps.... I was thinking that I would love to spend the whole day in such an open space, just lying still, watching the animals and having a beer, and then today I was lucky enough to have my favorite backdrop spread out in front of me. It's even better that it's with Burberry, because I've always loved their outdoor clothing, especially the trench coats. The first luxury item I bought after my debut was a Burberry card wallet.

Harper's Bazaar: You're the main vocalist of Stray Kids, looking at your activities so far, you can clearly feel the sincerity in your singing. I heard that you've been receiving vocal lessons consistently without a break since your debut. Are you practicing every day these days?

Seungmin: When I first started learning songs, I would do some math, right? If there was a lyric sheet, I would check every breathing part and make a calculation- in this part, I would sing like this, and in that part, I would put this kind of emotion... That's how I practiced. These days, without a written record, I try to make my own interpretation based on what I've honed inside. I think it feels better to hear compliments like "you have a different side" than "you sing well."

How would you define your style as a vocalist?

Seungmin: It's abstract. What I'm striving for these days is that when I drop a pebble of a song into the lake of emotion, the ripples continue until the end of the song, and I want those ripples to carry over to the audience. For this reason, I'm trying to be freer with my emotions than before. If I'm sad, I cry, if I'm angry, I complain... I've always been a very patient person, and I think this change in me is slowly being reflected in my songs, as fans often notice.

Harper's Bazaar: Talent and effort each play a role in becoming a good singer.

Seungmin: I think talent is 10% and effort is 90%. As the years go by, I realize how much a singer's attitude is connected to the song. When I sing without feeling, the listeners don't feel anything.

Harper's Bazaar: Was the current Seungmin also created with 10% talent and 90% effort?

Seungmin: I'd add more. (Laughs) I would say talent 5% effort 95% If I skip a day of practice, it shows right away. When I first joined the team, I wasn't even the main vocalist. I don't remember standing in front of others singing even when I was young. There are stories of famous singers who were exceptionally good at singing since childhood, going to auditions or standing out at school plays. I just listened to what I liked and worked hard as much as I liked, and that's how I got here. I vaguely dreamed of being a band vocalist while listening to Muse, and I learned what it means to feel heartbroken while listening to Kim Dong Ryul. What's really great about practice is the sense of satisfaction you get when you face a wall and overcome it, one by one. You can't always get good results in real life, but you increase your odds through practice.

Harper's Bazaar Muse and Kim Dong-ryul? That's an analog sensibility. (Laughs)

Seungmin: I'm really slow. I don't have TikTok on my phone, and I don't really watch shorts. I like old things more than new things. The world seems too fast. It's a time where you can easily make something without putting in effort. Even if you just leave the translation to AI, it's done in an instant. Of course, it's an efficient system, but I think I'm more interested in authenticity. That's why I often hear people say that I'm an old man. What can I do? It's my style (laughs)

Harper's Bazaar So you keep a diary too?

Seungmin: I've been keeping a practice journal since 2017. At that time, I used to mechanically write down what I learned today and what I have to learn tomorrow, but now I think it's become a habit. These days, I write down my feelings in a journal. No matter how trivial the content is, when I look back later, the memories from that time come back vividly and it helps. I could use a notepad on my phone, but I insist on paper and pen. The time I write in my journal is an opportunity to sit at my desk every night and look into my heart for at least 5 minutes. Even if I write, "I don't want to write today. I'll just sleep," no matter how tired I am, I always write at least two lines and go to bed.

Please tell me a passage from Harper's Bazaar diary (laughs)

Seungmin starts off by saying, "Tomorrow is a very important day, so I've put a sheet mask on and even if I'm really sleepy right now, I'm holding this pen." I really write anything (Laughs)

Harper's Bazaar: I believe that what kind of music you're listening to these days can tell you a lot about a person, so I'm curious about Seungmin's recent playlist.

Seungmin: When I get into a song, I listen to it until I get sick of it, or until my emotions run out. That's why my playlists are always concise and well-organized. These days, I've been listening to Ariana Grande's "Twilight Zone" for over a week. I'm the type that's weak in imagination. My MBTI is Sensing (S), not Intuitive (N). But this song makes imagination possible, which is amazing.

According to Stray kids members, Seungmin is the type that once he gets into something, he sticks with it until the end- are you a stable type?

Seungmin: I can't handle anxiety very well. Stability is the best (laugh). Whether it's baseball or singing, if I get into something, I don't get tired of it and just keep going. It's the same with relationships. Once I'm connected to someone, I want to keep the relationship with that person until the end. My closest friends right now are all from elementary, middle, and high school. If you take loyalty out of it, it's dead (smile). I never betray people who are close to me.

Harpers bazaar: Everyone wears a t-shirt of their favorite band from their teenage years, so it seems like people live their whole lives with the music they listened to in their teens and 20s. Looking back, which song do you think will be your theme song?

Seungmin: I think it's "As We Are" that I wrote. It's the song that best represents my 20s. I would choose another song, but this song means a lot to me, and I had a hard time writing the lyrics. It was really hard to bring out the parts of myself that I wanted to be recognized, and didn't want to be recognized. It's a song that reflects me. The reason why the aspect ratio of the MV is 4:3 instead of 16:9 is because it is based on actual memories from my childhood.

Harper's Bazaar: The lyrics in the introduction of this song, "I tried to do well/ I ran forward without looking back/ but i tripped and fell/ And I ended up falling behind/ why does this only happen to me" these lyrics must have been a moment of wanting to be recognized and not wanting to be recognized for you, right?

Seungmin: Everyone has those. Words that are hard to say out loud, feelings that are kept inside, stories that only I know. At that time, I honestly put my thoughts and feelings into the lyrics. I might have thought it was my own personal story and just wrote it, but I tried to muster up the courage. I wanted to tell you that I was thinking the same thing as you, and you were thinking the same thing as me, and I wanted to comfort you.

Harper's Bazaar: Are you the kind of person who thinks music is life and life is music? Or are you the kind of person who thinks there is a real life outside of the stage? If I had to guess, I would say that vocalist Seungmin is a believer.

Seungmin: I want to express my feelings about music off stage, on stage. I believe that living the everyday life I like, even if it's not necessarily music, enriches my feelings about music. I don't want to live a life that's too different from the music I do. Seungmin the singer is Seungmin the person.

[sorchathered]

Requiem-Rafael Barba x reader

Summary- ADA Barba has one thing he can’t live without, fear of losing it consumes his dreams.

Warnings- smut smut smutty smut, dirty talk, language, bit of a daddy kink, just me being self indulgent and salivating over Barba.

———————————————————————————

He should’ve known it would never be easy.

Get the girl, fall in love, live happily ever after…those were not things he’d ever expected to happen in his life. His job was grueling, the hours chaotic; how could someone be expected to sign up for that? The media scrutiny that came with his high profile career alone should have sent you running for the hills. But none of it deterred you, you kept him grounded when things got too dark, you soothed his troubled mind in a way he could have only dreamed of, and now the one thing he’d wanted more than anything was most likely being ripped from him.

It was supposed to be a simple night out, it had been a migraine inducing week and all Raphael wanted was a nice dinner and to spend the weekend buried in you. He’d texted that he was on his way to the restaurant, but no reply came from his girl. That should’ve been the first red flag. You were chronically on your phone during the work week, he had to pry it from your hands most nights to get you to rest, sometimes he even hid it on the weekends just so you would pull yourself away from your cases and take a minute to breathe. You made his level of professionalism look meager sometimes, and that was truly saying something.

On the third round of calls it picked up and he felt relief flood his system. “Amore, you had me worried! I-“

“Barba? Is that you?” His blood runs cold at the voice on the other side; Olivia Benson had your phone. “Liv- please don’t say it.” “We got a call to this location, a town car with the driver shot, signs of a struggle in the backseat.” “Text me the address.” He was already running, two blocks was nothing over something like this, his worst fear playing out before his eyes.

-

Waking with a shout, Raphael nearly falls from his bed in his Upper East Side penthouse, drenched in sweat and tangled in his fancy Egyptian cotton bedsheets. The alarm clock by his bed read 2 am, and despite his outburst you slept soundly beside him, blissfully unaware that he’d just had a nightmare that rocked him to his core. It was his worst fear, going public with your relationship meant putting you directly in the public eye; opening you up to media scrutiny and allowing anyone with a grudge against him the perfect target to send him to his knees.

He swiped the stray tears that had formed and tried to regulate his breathing, he couldn’t get his heart rate down and it felt like he was choking on the air he tried desperately to take in. You were fine, peaceful even, a serene look on your face as the lights from the New York skyline glowed across the exposed skin of your body. Gorgeous, and totally unaware of how terrified he was to lose you.

He padded down the hall to the bathroom, splashing cold water across his face, still in a daze. Hearing the door crack open, he glanced behind him in the mirror reflection. Of course you’d come to find him. He must look a mess, wild green eyes trained on you as you crossed the threshold to wind your arms around his waist, body pressed against him tightly and he finally felt himself relax.

“What’s wrong Raf? You getting sick baby?” You turned him in your arms to press a hand to his forehead and he melted into your touch, curling himself around you and nuzzling his scruff against your neck.

“Bad dream Amore, I’ll be ok.” You quirked a brow at him, you didn’t believe him a bit, he looked unmoored; his cool exterior rattled in a way you’d never seen before.

“I don't know that I believe you darling, but I’m patient. I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me. For now, what do you need?” He stroked your cheek and his eyes softened as he took you in. “You, just you.”

-

He had you in his arms and was carrying you back towards the bed immediately, soft kisses pressed to his hair as you let your hands slide around his neck. He needed this, just the closeness and love only you could provide would be enough to bring him the peace he needed. Spread out on his mattress you looked like an angel, the glow of the city illuminating your body as he undressed you in the moonlight. “Love me Rafi, let me make it better baby.” He felt a shiver roll down his spine as he sprawls across your body, chests pressed together as he takes your face in his hands and kisses you softly. You sigh as he becomes more urgent, tongue mingling with yours as his palms slide down your sides to grip your hips, pressing his hard length against you and groaning low in his throat.

You whine at the feeling, grinding your hips down into his to get more, it will never be enough until he’s filled you, but ever the tease he plays your body like a well loved instrument until he has you panting and writhing into the mattress. His cologne, the heat from his skin, the filthy words he whispers as he brings you to the edge with his hands and mouth become almost too much to bear, it has you begging him to fuck you and he can’t help the chuckle that bubbles up, his sweet girl reduced to tears over the pleasure he gives. It’s euphoric, knowing he can get you like this. No one else gets to have you this way, only him.

“You want my cock, cariño? Look at you, so good for me. Mi hermoso, mi corazón, I love you. You’re everything to me. Tell me you want it sweet angel, I’ll give you what you need.” His words felt like a brand on your skin, your heart so full for this man, he was otherworldly, truly a gift. He brought his mouth back to yours, nipping at your bottom lip as you bucked up into his hand, you couldn’t form the words it was all too much and yet you needed so much more. “Daddy please, please fuck me- need you close” you stuttered out and he freed himself from his briefs. oh he was mouth watering, toned chest slick from sweat, your eyes followed the trail of chest hair down his happy trail, whimper escaping you as you took in his thick cock in his hand, pumping slowly with mirth in his gaze as he watched you squirm. He would never admit it to anyone, but he really did love it when you called him daddy, the age gap wasn’t even that large honestly, but something about it made him impossibly harder for you, and he couldn’t be bothered to hold himself back anymore.

“Beautiful girl, you make me crazy you know that?” He said as he ran himself through your folds slowly, deliberately, before sinking himself into you and watching as your back arched off the mattress. Sliding his arms under your back he slams himself into you, setting a brutal pace that has you crying and shaking in his hold. So good, it feels so good, and he knows neither of you are going to last long at all. Pressing his thumb to your clit he watches as your release shudders through you, your pussy pulling him in like a vice and he comes deep, moaning your name against your mouth like a prayer.

You both fall asleep like that, connected as intimately as possible, and the nightmares stay away for another night. When morning comes he’ll shrug it off as if it was nothing; but in the back of his mind he’ll be making a list to update his and your security at work, and holding you a little closer than usual before he leaves for the office. It won’t ever fully leave his mind, but little moments of peace with you will make it worthwhile.

Tagging- @arcane-vagabond @attapullman @baezen @ryebecca

[denmark-street]

I'll spare you the usual paragraphs about her "views":

Bruising culture war aside, the 59-year-old’s Rowling’s business empire is now larger than ever. In the four years since she began posting about transgender rights in 2020, Forbes estimates Rowling has earned more than $80 million per year from the sales of her books and the vast litany of Potterverse brand extensions, including movies, TV shows, theme parks, video games, theater and merchandise. Even after factoring in high U.K. taxes and her extensive charity ventures, she has comfortably rejoined the billionaire ranks with a net worth of $1.2 billion, according to Forbes estimates.

[...] tickets for her Harry Potter and the Cursed Child stage play were selling steadily on Broadway, in London’s West End and five other locations around the world—grossing more than $1 billion since its premiere in 2016, of which Rowling shares in the profits. HBO Max was also producing the fifth season of C.B. Strike, an adaptation of Rowling’s adult detective novels, written under the pseudonym Robert Galbraith. And in 2023 a new video game Hogwarts Legacy sold 24 million copies, the best-selling game of that year, grossing another $1 billion.

[...] Based on her earnings and diverse revenue streams, Rowling’s net worth could be considerably higher, were it not for her commitment to philanthropy. Forbes estimates she has donated more than $250 million in the past 20 years, primarily to three causes: Lumos, which has helped more than 280,000 abandoned children in orphanages in Romania, Haiti, Colombia and Ukraine; Volant, which supports victims of sexual abuse and domestic violence as well as at-risk children in Scotland; and the Anne Rowling Regenerative Neurology Clinic, which treats patients with neurological conditions such as MS, the disease that took her mother’s life when Rowling was just 25. She has also been very vocal about maintaining her residency in Edinburgh, Scotland, and paying the country’s highest income tax rate of 45%. In 2010, Rowling wrote that she wants her children to be “citizens, with everything that implies, of a real country, not free-floating ex-pats, living in the limbo of some tax haven and associating only with the children of similarly greedy tax exiles.” She considered it a form of payback for how far she had come in her own life, adding, “I am indebted to the British welfare state,” and that it is “my notion of patriotism” to pay into the system for others.

[one-chicago-writer]

Fevered Bonds

Fevered Bonds

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x Halstead!Reader Summary: A severe case of the flu leaves you barely responsive, your fever skyrocketing to dangerous levels. As your condition worsens, Connor struggles to keep you stable at home, torn between respecting your fear of hospitals and the growing dread that he might lose you. Fever-induced delirium, exhaustion, and the slow process of recovery make for a long night—one that neither of you will forget.\

Connor knew something was wrong the second he walked through the door.

The heat inside your apartment was stifling, the air thick and constricting. The thermostat read 80°F, far too high for someone already burning up. A spike of worry cut through him like a knife as he scanned the dimly lit living room, eyes locking onto the couch where you were curled up beneath a pile of sweat-soaked blankets.

You were trembling, body wracked with uncontrollable shivers despite the heat.

“Y/N.”

Kneeling beside you, he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, only to feel scorching heat radiating off your skin. His pulse jumped. This wasn’t just a fever—it was dangerous.

Your eyelids fluttered weakly, but your gaze didn’t quite focus. Your pupils were sluggish, the usual warmth in your eyes dulled by exhaustion and something far worse—delirium.

“…Jay?”

Connor stilled.

His chest tightened as he watched your eyes flicker past him, unfocused and distant.

You weren’t looking at him… You were looking through him. 

Your fingers twitched against his arm, grasping at something—or someone—who wasn’t there.

“You—you’re hurt,” you mumbled, your raspy voice barely above a whisper. “Jay… you need to sit down. You’re—there’s so much blood—”

Connor exhaled sharply, his throat tightening.

He recognized the signs immediately: delirium from hyperpyrexia. You weren’t just confused—you were trapped in some fever-induced flashback, reliving a memory you couldn’t escape.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, cupping your cheek, his touch gentle but grounding. “It’s Connor. I’m here. You’re sick, but I’ve got you.”

You let out a soft, distressed noise, your body twitching under his hands. Another tremor wracked your frame, and Connor barely suppressed a curse.

Grabbing the thermometer from the coffee table, he slipped it under your tongue, keeping a steadying hand at the nape of your neck when your head lolled slightly. The beep came too soon, and when he pulled it back, his heart dropped into his stomach.

104.7°F.

A fever that high wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was life-threatening. If it climbed much higher, you’d be at risk for seizures, brain damage, organ failure.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, already reaching for his bag.

Your pulse was racing beneath his fingers—easily over 120 bpm, a classic sign of systemic inflammatory response syndrome. You were dehydrated, tachycardic, and burning up.

He considered calling an ambulance, but as if sensing his thoughts, your weak fingers curled around his wrist.

“No hospital,” you rasped, voice barely audible.

Connor exhaled sharply through his nose.

He should’ve fought you on it. If this were anyone else—any other patient—he would’ve forced them onto a gurney and straight into the ED. But you weren’t just anyone.

You were you.

And he’d sworn to keep you safe.

“Okay,” he murmured, brushing damp hair from your forehead. “Okay.”

Your fingers twitched again, something close to a thank you.

But another violent shiver stole any chance of a response, your body curling in on itself as your muscles spasmed from the fever.

At that, Connor got up and strode to the hall closet, where he kept a more advanced first aid kit, which included IV kits and medications, since like your brothers, you had a severe tendency to downplay your injuries and illnesses. 

Connor moved swiftly, securing a tourniquet around your arm as he scanned for a vein. The cephalic vein, located just to the side of your bicep tendon, was faint but still visible, though it appeared slightly collapsed. The dehydration was complicating the process, so Connor lightly flicked the area he planned to use, hoping to encourage the vein to dilate and make the insertion easier.

“Stay with me, sweetheart,” he murmured, swabbing the site before uncapping the 18-gauge catheter.

The needle slid in smoothly. A flash of blood return filled the chamber, and Connor advanced the catheter before securing the line. He hooked up the normal saline IV, and put the IV bag on a hook that held a picture of you and him, that he took down temporarily. and opened the roller clamp, watching the fluid start to drip into your system.

Your body twitched at the sudden intake of fluids.

“There we go,” he murmured, keeping his voice steady even as his own pulse refused to cease galloping. “You’re gonna feel so much better soon.”

But your fever was still too high.

Connor pushed himself up and strode to the bathroom, twisting the faucet until lukewarm water began filling the tub. He tested the temperature with his wrist, ensuring it wasn’t too cold. Cooling too fast could cause vasoconstriction and worsen the fever response.

Returning to you, he placed the IV bag on your abdomen, and eased his arms under you, picking you up. You whimpered slightly at the change in positions, to which Connor replied, “Shh sweet girl. It's alright. I’ve got you.” He carried you into the bathroom, and gently set you in the water, and set the IV bag up on the shower curtain rod. 

The second your skin touched the water, a weak whimper escaped your lips.

“No—Jay—don’t—”

His grip tightened, steady but gentle.

“You’re safe,” he murmured, running a cool washcloth over your flushed skin. “I’ve got you.”

You let out another quiet sound, eyes still distant—but this time, you finally started to relax.

Minutes stretched on. The room was silent aside from the occasional ragged breath you took, the soft drip of the IV, the steady cadence of Connor’s voice as he whispered reassurances.

Slowly, the fever began to break.

104… 103.5… 102.6°F.

Still high. But it was no longer lethal.

Once he was sure your body had adjusted, he got you out of the tub, wrapped you in your favorite fluffy towel, and carried you into your shared bedroom and sat you on the edge of the bed. Quickly, he went into the closet,and got a pair of running shorts and a t- shirt. Connor helped you into dry clothes and laid you in bed. Your skin was clammy, your body still weak, but your pulse had steadied—no longer erratic, no longer dangerously fast.

Your fingers curled around his wrist, stronger than before.

“’M still here,” you mumbled, voice scratchy but certain.

His chest tightened.

Yeah. You were. And as long as he had anything to say about it, you always would be.

Recovery was slow.

For the next day and a half, Connor barely left your side.

Your fever hovered around 101°F, leaving you exhausted and barely able to keep your eyes open for more than a few minutes at a time. Even when you were awake, your words came out in a haze, fever-induced ramblings that broke his heart every single time.

“Jay, is… is that you?” you murmured weakly, your voice a rough whisper. The fever was still clouding your mind. It wasn’t until you saw the concerned, loving gaze in Connor’s eyes that you fully registered who was there. The next words that came from you weren’t words at all, just a strangled sob of relief that wracked your body and nearly broke him. He held you through it, not knowing how to fix it, but he knew he couldn’t let you go.

Connor forced you to sip electrolyte solutions, fed you small bites of soup even when you weakly protested.

“You haven’t eaten in two days,” he reminded you, his voice soft but firm, not willing to back down.

You scowled at him from beneath the blankets. “Bossy.”

He smirked. “Stubborn.”

It was hard to see you like this. You, normally so strong, so fiercely independent, now depend on him for even the smallest things. It made him feel like the walls were closing in, like the weight of his own concern was suffocating him. 

Eventually, the fever broke entirely. Your temperature finally dropped below 100°F, and the exhaustion that had weighed on you like a lead blanket finally began to lift.

Connor—still hovering, always watching—checked your pulse one last time, fingers lingering over your wrist.

Finally, he let himself relax.

“See?” you murmured, voice still hoarse but teasing. “Told you I’d be fine.”

Connor huffed, shaking his head. “You nearly cooked yourself from the inside out. Forgive me if I don’t find that too terribly funny.”

You sighed, squeezing his hand. “But I had you.”

His gaze softened, and he remembered why he fell head over heels for you in the first place. 

“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “You did.”

And you always would.

As you slept, Connor stayed awake, fearful you might take a turn down the wrong direction. the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest being the only thing keeping him sane. He watched over you, unable to shake the nagging fear that had lodged itself in his chest. But each breath you took, each gentle movement, was a reminder that you were still with him. And that was all that mattered.

TAGLIST:

@Knbubbles, @zoeykaytesmom

[toruskiii]

Love Delivery!

Synopsis: Balancing part-time food delivery with a busy school schedule is no easy task. One day, while on a delivery, you find yourself awkwardly waiting at the door of a luxurious apartment. Suddenly, the door swings open, revealing a handsome, albeit annoyingly rich, man. Genre: Romance, fluff, slow-burn?? (modern au!) Character: Aventurine x fem!reader Warnings: Hot sassy men apocalypse, maybe this will have a part 2 or smth idk

[masterlist] [about me]

Ding!

Someone has placed an order near your set area.

You glance at the notification on your screen, just as you’re snapping a picture of the food you’ve delivered to the nice granny’s house. The elderly lady smiles politely, waiting patiently as you finish taking the photo.

“Ah, another order, young lady?” she croaks out, offering a small, grateful bow when you hand her the plastic bag of food. “Thank you so much, hoho. I’m sorry to trouble you young folks, but it’s hard for my old bones to get around, you know?” She chuckles, giving your shoulder a gentle pat.

You smile at her and shake your head, waving off her concern. "It's no problem, granny. It's my job, after all." After bidding farewell to the old lady, you put on your helmet, hop back on your bike, and accept the new order request.

Penacony's Clock Diner? Wait-

You quickly check the location set for your food delivery, confused by the address. You're all the way in Aurem Alley, and the customer wants food from Penacony? Ridiculous.

Location Set: Xianzhou Luofu.

How is this guy even able to send his request to you?

You double-check the address, noticing the system listing it as Fyxestroll Garden. What the hell? There aren’t any apartment complexes at Fyxestroll Garden!

Puzzled, you pull over to the side of the road and open the map on your phone, trying to make sense of it. Fyxestroll Garden is a well-known public park, famous for its serene walking paths and meticulously kept gardens. You can’t recall any buildings, let alone residential ones, in the area. You tap on the address again, hoping it’s a mistake or a glitch, but the coordinates remain unchanged.

Maybe it’s a new complex that just opened? you wonder. Or could it be some sort of exclusive residence hidden within the park?

Not long after, another text message pops up on your screen, and it's from the guy.

Frustration boils within you as you read the message, your temper nearing its breaking point. The blazing sun beats down mercilessly, intensifying your irritation as you stand near the dock, contemplating a plunge into the cooling waters below. How could this customer be so careless as to mess up their address, leaving you to contend with this sweltering heat and an hour-long detour?

And curse this app for its lack of a proper cancellation feature!

With a frustrated groan, you glance at the text, feeling the resistance of your bike's wheels grow heavier as you open the GPS. You're tempted to unleash a torrent of curses at the customer for exploiting some loophole in the app, forcing you to exert yourself just to deliver his order. He better be prepared to tip generously for this inconvenience.

To reach Penacony, your best bet is to take the Astral Express train— a mode of transportation you've used before but disliked immensely. The erratic jumps and occasional turbulence make for a nerve-wracking journey. And that conductor… Was it just fatigue playing tricks on your mind, or did they really have bunny ears…?

You sigh heavily as you enter the station, swiping your pass before parking your bike and leaning against it. Your gaze drifts to the TV hanging on the wall, checking the schedule to see when the train will arrive. Fifteen minutes? Well, there's no escaping it now…

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You feel like hurling yourself into outer space.

Not only did the restaurant forget to prepare the order, but you're also stuck in a conversation with one of the servers who insists on cracking the most cringeworthy jokes.

"There's no such thing as a bad joke, only lousy comedians who can't deliver them!" the server— Jay, apparently. boasts. Doesn't this guy have other customers to attend to? Good grief. You're tempted to point out that he's no better than those lousy comedians, but you're not that mean— and you definitely don't want to risk losing your job.

"Order number 38! One sarmale and one classic soulglad!" a worker calls out, providing a convenient distraction as you hastily grabbed the food and rush over to your bike— just in time for your phone to start chiming with multiple notifications.

Fuming with frustration, you run a hand through your hair, pedaling away as fast as your legs can carry you to the designated location. One hand grips the handlebars tightly while the other clutches your phone, fingers jabbing at the screen as you send panicked voicemails to the careless customer.

"I'm on my way! I'll be there soon!" you breathe out, your voice strained with urgency, weaving through traffic with reckless abandon. You're so preoccupied that you didn't even bother with your helmet, leaving it hanging on the basket of your bike as you speed along. The wind rushes past you, whipping your hair back as you scream into your phone.

"I'm practically flying to your place. Just hold on!" you seethe, narrowly avoiding collisions with other vehicles. You swear you catch a glimpse of a pair of blue-haired siblings shooting you a skeptical glance as you whiz by. No one's going to meet their demise on my watch.

(Maybe a few might with the way you're on the verge of causing car crashes.)

With determination fueling every pedal, you push yourself to the limit, determined to reach the customer's location before they decide to relocate to another universe altogether.

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Upon stepping into the lounge of the apartment complex, you stand there, utterly flabbergasted.

The sight before you is nothing short of opulent. Everyone here is dressed to the nines in fancy attire, oozing sophistication and wealth. I mean, what did you expect? That the guy who ordered the food would settle for anything less than extravagance? 1800 credits for a soda?

But even knowing that, you weren't prepared for the sheer luxury of it all. Marble floors greet you the moment you enter, with plush velvet red sofas arranged in elegant clusters at every corner. The vases of plants adorning the marble countertops probably cost more than your entire monthly rent.

The sprawling expanse of rooms lining the halls seems to stretch on endlessly, giving you the impression that you've stumbled into a palace rather than an apartment complex. You can't help but feel like a humble peasant as you approach the lobby manager, your attire— a mishmash of sweaty clothes and a random jacket—paling in comparison to the impeccably tailored suits of the residents. Are you checking into an apartment or a castle?

What catches you off guard is the realization that most of the people milling about in this opulent setting are students. Students! You recognize familiar faces in the crowd— classmates from the same campus you attend.

"Hello, I'm here to deliver an order for room number ███," you murmur to the manager, noting the slight stress in her demeanor as she punches in the room number to confirm the request. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise when she directs you to the Platinum room.

The Platinum room? Your mind races with questions as you make your way through the halls, the extravagant surroundings only adding to your bewilderment. What kind of student lives in the Platinum room of an apartment complex like this?

Here you stand, face to face with the imposing wooden door adorned with intricate golden trimmings, feeling as though your bank account is slowly draining with each passing moment. You raise a hand to knock, furrowing your brows in confusion when there's no immediate answer.

"Hey, it's me. I'm here to deliver your food," you call out, giving the door another firm knock. Still, there's no response. Seriously?

Technically, you could just leave the food at his door and be done with it. But something about the luxuriousness of this apartment complex makes you hesitate. It wouldn't reflect well on you to simply abandon the delivery outside, especially in such an upscale setting. (You internally roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all.)

As the door finally creaks open, you're poised to unleash the most scathing side-eye you can muster— ready to give this guy a piece of your mind for keeping you waiting (and running). But as your gaze meets his, you freeze.

You'd seen his profile picture on the app before, but you'd doubted that a man so devastatingly handsome could possibly exist in real life. You'd convinced yourself that it was probably some sort of prank or scam, someone using a fake photo to lure in unsuspecting victims.

But now, standing before you, is a man who defies all logic. His golden, tousled locks frame a face so strikingly beautiful it steals your breath away. His eyes— oh, those eyes— they're like pools of sapphire surrounded by a halo of lavender. You feel your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment as you struggle to find your voice, your words caught in your throat like a lump of lead.

He gazes back at you, those mesmerizing eyes flickering with mild curiosity as he tilts his head inquisitively. "Hm? Ah, it's you," he says, breaking the spell of silence that had enveloped you. But you can hardly hear him over the thunderous pounding of your heart, which seems to be screaming one thing over and over again: He's even more breathtaking in person.

You mentally slap yourself, shaking off the remnants of your daze as you stumble over your words, handing him his bag of food with trembling hands. "R-right, sorry to keep you waiting. Here's your food, sir," you manage to stutter out, inwardly cursing yourself for apologizing. Why am I apologizing? He's the one who's in the wrong here!

He lets out a soft chuckle, and you swear the sun must be finding its way to shine through the walls of the complex as your ears burn at the mere sound of his laugh. It's so calming, so captivating, that you feel like you're floating in a dream.

"No, no. Don't apologize. It's my fault for entering the wrong address," he reassures you, his voice smooth as silk. His fingers brush over yours as he reaches for his food, sending an electric shock through your entire body at the brief contact. You can't help but notice how his gaze softens as he opens the plastic bag to check the contents, a small hum of satisfaction escaping his lips at the sight of the still-warm food. You decide not to question it— perhaps he's just feeling a bit homesick.

You continue to awkwardly stand there, your hands fidgeting nervously in your pockets as you struggle to find something to say. "So, uh, your total is 6500 credits, sir," you finally manage to blurt out, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

He blinks in mild surprise, a small "ah" escaping his lips before he nods, disappearing momentarily back into his apartment. He returns a moment later, wallet in hand, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Since I've troubled you so much, how much do you want me to pay you back with, hm?" he teases, his tone playful.

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open in disbelief. Well, he did put you through quite a bit of trouble, making you trek all over town just to deliver two measly items. But still, the thought of asking for more money makes you feel incredibly awkward and embarrassed. "No, that…that won't be necessary," you choke out, feeling your palms grow sweaty with nervousness. "There's no need—"

"I insist," he interrupts, his tone firm yet strangely charming.

Well, damn. You're caught between feeling grateful for his generosity and feeling utterly mortified at the prospect of asking for more payment. But with his insistence ringing in your ears, you find yourself reluctantly nodding in agreement, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"1000 credits is fine," you mumble, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of asking for more money.

"Just 1000?" he repeats, narrowing his eyes at you with a slight frown. "That's quite low, considering the trouble I've put you through," he adds, his fingers skimming through his wallet in search of more credits.

As he rummages through his wallet, you can't help but notice his student card peeking out from among the bills. Your lips part in shock as you realize he's a student at the IPC—yeah, he's definitely rich. You should have haggled for more money.

"Are— do you major in accounting…?" you blurt out before you can stop yourself, your eyes darting to his card. He hums in response, shaking his head. "Nah, fashion. I can't count."

The two of you maintain eye contact for a few moments, and you find yourself staring at him dumbly while he gives you a cat-like grin.

"Did you actually buy that? I'm joking. I major in both finance and accounting."

You can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at his flippant attitude. This man radiates fuck-boy energy, and you're starting to have second thoughts. Does he get a pass because of his looks, or is it because of his looks that he gets a pass?

"Oh," is all you can manage to answer as he hands you a random stack of credits.

You stare dumbfounded at his outstretched hand, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you glance back and forth between the stash of credits and his gaze. "Huh? How much is this?" you inquire, still hesitant to accept the payment.

"Does it really matter?" he scoffs, nudging you playfully. "1000 credits is way too little, and I don't like scamming people. I don't stoop that low," he chuckles, his tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. When you don't budge, he feels a twitch in his eye before suddenly grabbing your jacket and tugging at your pockets, causing you to let out a startled yelp. "Hey! What the hell—"

Ignoring your protest, he shoves the credits inside your pocket with lazy nonchalance, letting out a whistle of satisfaction before releasing his hold. "There. Now just think of it as you were robbed in reverse," he quips, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"That's not helping!"

"It's not like your boss or whoever's in charge of the app will check your pockets, right? I'm just giving you tips, there's nothing wrong with that," he shrugs, struggling to hold back a snort at how visibly annoyed you look. If this were any other person, like an 'actual' adult or man, he'd brush it off and just toss a random wad of tips your way before politely closing the door. Maybe he'd pause for a pretty lady— well, you are a pretty lady.

But he can tell you're a student, just like him, probably working your ass off just to make ends meet. Hey, he doesn't judge. Plus, it's kind of fun to tease people occasionally, and you remind him of another acquaintance of his who's majoring in medicine.

"So, anything else?" he murmurs, leaning casually against the doorframe, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You can't help but feel a mix of irritation and amusement at his nonchalant attitude. "No, that's it," you reply tersely, your voice tinged with annoyance. You can't wait to get out of here and put this bizarre encounter behind you.

He nods in acknowledgment, his smirk widening ever so slightly. "Alright then. Take care, pretty," he says, offering you a lazy wave before shutting the door gently behind him.

As you make your way back to your bike, you can't help but replay the encounter in your mind, wondering just what the hell just happened. This guy is definitely one of a kind, that's for sure.

As you swiftly exit the complex and pedal back to the train station, a dull headache begins to gnaw at your temples. You have other pending orders waiting for you back in Luofu, and the thought of having to navigate through the city once more only adds to your growing exhaustion. Yet, amidst the fatigue, a small swell of warmth tugs at your heart at the thought of not getting his number.

Sure, he provided his contact information when he placed the order, but with a guy like him, you're almost certain it's just his business line or something equally impersonal. Besides, it would feel a bit creepy to text him out of the blue. What would you even say?

'Hey, I thought you were cute after making me run laps around the city and deal with an annoying server, hmu?'

No way, that's beyond pathetic. Plus, you'd risk losing face.

Lost in your thoughts, you arrive back at the train station, your hands absentmindedly reaching up to touch your flushed cheeks, still tingling from the encounter. He's undeniably attractive, and you can't shake the nagging feeling that he probably already has a girlfriend— or several. Besides, you should be focusing on your studies, not getting involved with some rich fuck boy.

Ding!

Huh?

You're snapped out of your reverie by the sound of a notification chiming on your phone. With a curious frown, you unlock your device to see what it is.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you read the notification, your eyes widening in disbelief. What the hell is wrong with this guy? 10,000 credits? Is he insane?

With trembling hands, you quickly fish out the money he gave you from your pockets, counting through the stack under your breath to keep your panic in check. "6, 7, 8… 9…" you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you realize he gave you thrice the amount needed.

Your fingers tap frantically on your phone screen as you type out a response, your words rushed and panicked. "Dude, you gave me thrice the amount needed already—stop."

As you stare at the screen, your mind reels with disbelief. He just willingly gave you his phone number— and he thinks you're cute?

It's a little funny, in a surreal sort of way, that the entire conversation is still ongoing within the food service app. Here you are, exchanging private messages with each other despite the platform's intended purpose.

You gulp, feeling the heat rise to the tips of your ears. Your brows knit together in a mixture of disbelief and slight annoyance, the memory of the earlier encounter still fresh in your mind. After all, he did put you through quite a bit of trouble with that address mix-up.

Should you add him?

"…"

You're caught off guard as a strong gust of wind rushes past you, fluttering your hair in its wake as the Astral Express train arrives. The station immediately becomes crowded, and you struggle to maneuver your bike into the passenger compartment as people squeeze past you. Finally, you manage to park your bike and squeeze yourself into an empty corner to avoid blocking anyone.

As everyone settles into their seats and grips the handles, the doors of the train shut, and the conductor announces the next stop. You let out a sigh, knowing it'll be another 20 or so stops before you reach Luofu…

Glancing back at your phone, your fingers tap onto it mindlessly, the cabin now quiet save for the occasional cries of children or chatter between friends.

Your gaze softens as a new notification pops up.

Aventurine (loser of a customer) is now saved into your contacts.

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Ding!

"Good evening to you again, pretty delivery lady."

[cillmurphyslover]

𝙰 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝙸𝚗 𝙵𝚎𝚊𝚛 • 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚡 𝚈/𝙽. 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 1𝚔 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜.

A dark psychology, slow-burn obsession, blurred ethics, emotional manipulation, and an eventual twisted romance story about Jonathan Crane and a new psychiatrist in Arkham Asylum—Dr. Elizabeth Grant (or Y/N). Cold, brilliant, and unshakable, she becomes fascinated by one patient in particular… Dr. Jonathan Crane. As she peels back his clinical detachment and madness, Crane finds something unexpected in her…a mind as sharp as his and a heart touched by darkness. But is their growing bond real, or just another experiment in fear for him?

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The lights in Arkham flickered as a storm grumbled outside, casting long, skeletal shadows across the stone floor. Dr. Grant sat across from him, legs crossed, pen unmoving against the page.

"You've stopped writing," Jonathan Crane observed, voice low, almost amused. His wrists were bound in chains, but his eyes—those cold, glass-cut eyes—were utterly free.

"I'm observing," she replied.

Crane tilted his head, his expression almost boyish in its curiosity. “And what have you observed, Doctor?”

“That your fear of irrelevance is greater than your fear of confinement.”

Silence pulsed between them like a heartbeat. Then, a slow smile broke across his face.

"Careful, Elizabeth. You see too much." He leaned forward, the chains clinking like a warning. "You keep staring into the dark... eventually, it starts to stare back."

She didn’t flinch. “Maybe I want it to.”

His smile deepened—something blooming and venomous.

“Then we’re not so different after all.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Two weeks later. Late evening. Arkham Asylum – Crane’s cell.

Dr. Grant stood at the threshold of Jonathan Crane’s isolation room, her ID badge disabled, her presence unauthorized. A flickering emergency light bathed the corridor in pulses of red. A security breach had locked down the west wing—convenient. Or planned.

Inside, Crane sat on the floor, legs folded like a monk, staring at the wall with disturbing serenity. He didn’t look at her.

“You came,” he said, almost softly.

Elizabeth stepped inside, door slowly closing behind her. “They’re blaming the toxin leak on the ventilation system.”

He turned then, eyes catching hers like flint. “But you don’t believe in accidents.”

“No,” she said. “Not here.”

Crane rose slowly, like a shadow lifting from the ground. “Then why are you here?”

Elizabeth didn’t answer immediately. Her heart pounded louder than she wanted. She wasn’t afraid. Not exactly.

“I dreamt of you,” she admitted. “Your voice in the dark.”

Crane moved closer, slow and deliberate. “What did I say?”

“That I was already one of yours.”

He stopped just short of her. “You are.”

A beat passed. Then she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small vial—amber liquid glowing faintly.

“Your toxin,” she said. “Modified. I added something.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “An offering?”

She held it out to him. “A test.”

Crane smiled—genuine, quiet, reverent. He took the vial, their fingers brushing for just a second longer than necessary.

“No masks anymore?” he asked.

“Not tonight.”

He stared at her like a man looking at art—or prey. “Then let’s see what you’re really made of, Doctor.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Location: Crane’s private observation chamber (post-secure breach, secreted away beneath Arkham).

There were no cameras down here. No guards. No red tape. Just dim light, cold air, and silence—except for the sound of her breathing, shallow and steady, like she was trying not to disturb something sacred.

Jonathan stood behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him. No restraints. No mask. Just the man, stripped of pretense. The monster had manners tonight.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered, and his hand hovered—just for a moment—before it gently touched the back of her neck. Not possessive. Not controlling. Just contact. Intimate in the way only danger could be.

“I’m not afraid,” she said.

“I know,” he murmured. “That’s why it’s beautiful.”

She turned, slowly, and looked up at him—eyes dark, unblinking. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Crane tilted his head. His fingers drifted from her neck to her jaw, featherlight.

“I see potential,” he said, voice low. “A mind too sharp for this world. A heart that flinches at nothing. You don’t belong to them. You never did.”

She didn’t pull away. “And you think I belong to you?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t cruel. “No,” he said. “I think we belong to something neither of us can name—but I intend to find out what it wants.”

For a long moment, neither moved. The quiet was heavy, charged. Then she leaned in—not a kiss, not yet—but her lips brushed his cheek, slow and deliberate.

“Then find it,” she whispered. “But don’t expect me to follow. You’ll have to drag me there.”

His breath caught—not in fear, but in awe.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Inside the hidden chamber below Arkham asylum. Elizabeth’s hands are stained with ink and caught up in Crane’s research notes. The world outside has slowly started to fade away.

Jonathan sat in his chair, hunched over a diagram of neural pathways warped by fear. She stood behind him, reading over his shoulder, her presence like gravity—inescapable, constant.

"You annotated my margins," he said, not looking up.

"You were wrong," she replied.

He smiled, just faintly. “You never did learn to stay in your lane.”

“I was never in one.”

Crane finally turned, his eyes searching hers—not for approval, but alignment. Like a wolf checking if another still runs beside him. Then he reached out, touched her wrist with two fingers.

"You're slipping," he said softly.

She blinked. “From what?”

“Your mask. I can see your cracks.”

She inhaled, sharp and shallow. “Then look deeper.”

And he did.

He stood, stepping into her space, taking her face in his hands with unexpected gentleness. “Tell me this isn’t real,” he whispered. “Tell me it’s the toxin, and I’ll let you go.”

“It’s not the toxin.”

He leans in for a kiss on your lips.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It was slow, yes—but not gentle. It was exploration, invasion, invitation all in one. A tangle of restraint and hunger. Her hands found his coat, and for the first time, he didn’t feel like a monster—he felt seen.

But as they parted, just slightly, his breath uneven, she saw it.

The flicker.

Panic, buried beneath layers of control.

“What are you afraid of, Jonathan?” she asked, voice low, lips still brushing his.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he stepped back—one step, then two. And then he laughed. A dry, hollow sound.

“You,” he said.

“You terrify me…”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚡𝚘

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Fever

Fever - any body temperature elevation over 100°F (37.8°C).

How long a fever lasts and how high it may go depends on several factors, including its cause, the age of the patient, and overall health.

Most fevers caused by infections are acute:

appearing suddenly and then

dissipating as the immune system defeats the infectious agent.

An infectious fever may also: rise and fall throughout the day, reaching its peek in the late afternoon or early evening.

A low-grade fever that lasts for several weeks - is associated with autoimmune diseases such as lupus or with some cancers, particularly leukemia and lymphoma.

A fever requires emergency treatment under the following circumstances:

newborn (three months or younger) with a fever higher than 100.5°F (38°C)

infant or child with a fever higher than 103°F (39.4°C)

fever accompanied by severe headache, neck stiffness, mental confusion, or severe swelling of the throat

A very high fever in a small child can trigger seizures (febrile seizures) and therefore should be treated immediately. A fever accompanied by the listed symptoms can indicate the presence of a serious infection, such as meningitis, and should be brought to the immediate attention of a physician.

A healthy person’s body temperature fluctuates between 97F (36.1°C) and 100°F (37.8°C), with the average being 98.6°F (37°C).

The body maintains stability within this range by balancing the heat produced by the metabolism with the heat lost to the environment.

The ‘‘thermostat’’ that controls this process is located in the hypothalamus, a small structure located deep within the brain.

The nervous system constantly relays information about the body’s temperature to the thermostat, which in turn activates different physical responses designed to cool or warm the body, depending on the circumstances.

These responses include: decreasing or increasing the flow of blood from the body’s core, where it is warmed, to the surface, where it is cooled; slowing down or speeding up the rate at which the body turns food into energy (metabolic rate); inducing shivering, which generates heat through muscle contraction; and inducing sweating, which cools the body through evaporation.

Physicians agree that the most effective treatment for a fever is to address its underlying cause, such as through the administration of antibiotics.

Also, because a fever helps the immune system fight infection, it usually should be allowed to run its course.

Drugs to lower fever (antipyretics) can be given if a patient (particularly a child) is uncomfortable. These include:

aspirin,

acetaminophen (Tylenol), and

ibuprofin (Advil).

Aspirin, however, should not be given to a child or adolescent with a fever since this drug has been linked to an increased risk of Reye’s syndrome.

Bathing a patient in cool water can also help alleviate a high fever.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Realistic Injuries

[ouroborosmoons]

Hamas - Statement by the Government Media Office

5-5-2025

Urgent Warning: Gaza’s Hospitals on the Brink of Collapse Within 48 Hours Due to Israel’s Ban on Fuel Access and Ongoing Siege

We issue the strongest possible warning of an imminent catastrophe threatening the lives of thousands of patients and wounded individuals in the Gaza Strip, as the Israeli occupation continues to prevent international and UN institutions from accessing fuel storage sites designated for hospitals, under the pretext that they are located in so-called “red zones” — a move that constitutes a continuation of the deliberate policy of blockade, starvation, and collective punishment.

According to the Ministry of Health’s announcement on Sunday (May 4, 2025), the available fuel quantities are sufficient for only three days. Today (May 5, 2025), we renew the warning that the remaining fuel is sufficient for just two more days. This means hospitals are only 48 hours away from a complete shutdown — including intensive care units, neonatal incubators, and operating rooms — signaling an unprecedented health and humanitarian disaster.

We strongly condemn this systematic crime committed by the Israeli occupation in preventing fuel from reaching hospitals. This act is a blatant violation of international humanitarian law, a clear breach of the Geneva Conventions, and a direct contribution to the ongoing health catastrophe in Gaza.

We hold the Israeli occupation fully responsible for this deliberate crime. We also hold the countries complicit in and supportive of the genocide — foremost among them the United States, the United Kingdom, Germany, and France — accountable for their involvement in this collective atrocity.

We call on the international community, as well as humanitarian and medical organizations, to take immediate and urgent action to prevent the collapse of the healthcare system in the Gaza Strip and to save lives that are now on the brink of death due to the lack of fuel, electricity, and ongoing starvation.

[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is the story I mentioned yesterday! Trying something new for me but I hope y'all enjoy it. I've always found Mafia Eddie incredible sexy <3. This is an AU with a mixture of Stranger Things you will definitely recognize :). I wrote with the idea that Hawkins is a big city so keep that in mind lol

Warnings: Mafia Gangster Eddie/ Officer (slightly mean) Steve Harrington/ Doctor Fem Reader, SMUT, use of the color system, degrading if you squint, spanking, dirty talk, etc.

ANGST, Obviously (and not just because I am me lol), Eddie runs a rival gang in Hawkins and is in love with Steve (Romeo and Juliet style), Steve mentions being jumped and Eddie retaliates getting hurt in the process, mentions of murders by Eddie, Reader takes care of them both performing surgery on the gangster, guns are pulled and our boys are threatened, cliff hanger ending because I can.

Word Count: 8284

"Little girl gone, got a gun from a gangster Run little girl, run little girl, bang, ha."

“Officer Steve Harrington.”, you read from his chart as you enter the exam room before flashing him a big smile. “I’m Dr. Y/L/N. How can I help you today?”

“My, uh, Captain said I needed to come get a checkup. I was wounded in the line of duty a few days ago.”

“Oh no. I’m really sorry to hear that. May I ask what happened?”

“Does that matter?”, he snapped.

You dealt with sassy patients on the regular. It came with the territory especially in the area your office was located in. In this part of the city, your clinic usually catered to people who didn’t want to check in at a regular hospital because their name could get dinged for other offenses. You always felt like everyone deserved care so when you opened your clinic, you made sure to do what you could within the means and resources you had available. 

Officers normally never entered your building but within these past few months you had seen them more and more frequently. You had heard rumors of a new gang in the area trying to make things more…democratic…so there was less chaos in the streets but in turn that brought more of a police presence because most of the people around here hated being threatened into submission reacting violently if need be. 

Thankfully, you weren’t easily shaken so this admittedly good-looking man of the law raising his voice didn’t frighten you one bit. 

“It does if you want me to assess you properly.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I like to be polite at first. Now, are you going to tell me what happened or should I mark in your file here that you refused to answer so your Captain can deal with you?”

Steve’s amber eyes scanned you over briefly before a small smirk painted his beautiful lips. 

“I got jumped by one of the rival gangs in the area. Beat me up pretty good.” 

Sitting in your wheely chair, you slid toward him and carefully lifted off his shirt, his face wincing as he lifted his arms. Large purple bruises were splattered along his ribs and around to his back. Just from the wounds alone, you could tell he was kicked and punched repeatedly. His face had some scratches and swelling but it looked like nothing compared to his upper torso. 

“Oh wow. I’m so sorry. Did you go to the hospital?”

“I did. They did some X-rays and shit. Thankfully nothing was broken but, obviously, moving around has been hard.”

“Beside the bruising, have you experienced any other pain? Like a sharp stabbing pain in your side or anything like that?”

“Uh, no. Just emotional pain.”, he chuckles as his eyes look past you into a memory. 

“Ok, I’ll get you some medicine I think will help as well as some cream to sooth the pain of those bruises and swelling. I’ll be right back.”

You weren’t gone long but as you were returning you could vaguely hear his voice through the door between you both. 

“Naw, she said she’s going to get me some meds and shit…Baby! Seriously, you worry too much. I’m fine… No, NO. Don’t you dare go over there or I swear God—” Hastily, he hung up his phone when he heard you knock and reenter the room he was in. “Sorry. That was my, um, my boss checking in. Just reiterated what you told me.”

“Good. Now this will help with the pain…”, you instruct as you hand him some medication before flashing him the cream. “…and this will help with the swelling. Just put this on your bruises every six hours and you’ll be good to go in no time.”

Opening the bottle, you squeeze some of the medicine in your hand, and gently rub it along his admittedly muscular abs. 

“You’re, um, going to feel it tingle a bit and feel warm but after a few moments it will cool down.”

That smirk you saw previously appeared on his lips again when he caught you staring as your hands slowly rubbed along his skin. 

“That feels really good actually. Your hands not the cream.”

“Hm. I’m sure your girlfriend touches you enough.” Steve raises an eyebrow at your insinuation. “I mean unless you call your captain ‘baby’.”

A slightly nervous sigh leaves you as the officer’s grin grows and his eyes meet yours. 

“Hm. Bad girl listening in on my phone calls. Do you always misbehave like that?”

“This is my clinic, Officer Harrington. I can do whatever I want especially when I have signs everywhere that say, ‘No Cell Phones in the Exam Room.’”

His palm abruptly takes hold of your wrist, pulling you closer to him till your nose was just above his own.

“This may be your clinic, honey, but these are my streets. I keep order here.”

“I think the gangs here would disagree.”

“Pfft, like you know anything about what goes on out there.”, he spits as he lets you go.

After throwing a scowl his way, you pretend to be preoccupied with washing your hands.

“I know that when I first moved here, the fatality rate in this area was extremely high until that new gang leader took over the Munson crew. I believe, if the rumors are correct, the new boss is actually the son of the old leader Al Munson. Since the son has taken over, oddly enough, the streets have become safer. More kids come out to play and I’ve seen less addicts in the last couple of months.”

As you dry your hands and turn to face him, you notice the hardened look on the officer’s face as he listens to you speak.

“I also know there have been more of a police presence on this side of town as well. I’ve seen a lot of innocent civilians put in ambulances or worse due to the push back of change. Tell me, Officer Harrington, which side are you on? Which gang did that to you? The Munson’s or The Carver’s?”

“I’m on the side of peace. That’s my job.”, he seethes through gritted teeth.  

“Yeah… you’re good to go, officer. Have a nice day.”, you growl in annoyance as you leave the room without waiting for him to retort.

##############

Today had been an incredibly long day. After your appointment with Officer Harrington, you had back-to-back visits from so many clients just needing a little bit of help. Your mind was racing as you and your staff did what you could but the truth was you desperately needed more funding. You were running low on supplies and the equipment you had wasn’t the best. It killed you to see your patient’s sad faces when you strongly recommended they head to the nearest hospital for certain tests that you just couldn’t provide at that time. 

Your mind was still racing as you began to gather your things to head out for the evening which is most likely why you didn’t even hear him till you exited your office and were met with a gun pointed at your face. 

“Don’t be scared. I’m not…I’m not here to hurt you. We need help.”, Steve panted with a heavy breath as the weapon shook in his hand. He was still dressed in the uniform he was wearing when you last saw him but now it was stained in blood and sweat.

“I-I-I…”

Roughly, he took hold of your bicep and dragged you to your waiting room where another man was sitting with his head leaning against the wall. You knew he wasn’t a cop because he wasn’t dressed like the man beside you but instead in an expensive looking black suit with the white button up shirt underneath his jacket now stained with red. You noticed immediately his palm was holding his side and that area of his clothing was a darker shade than all the rest. 

“I can’t help with a wound like that. He needs a hospital.”

“Oh you don’t say?”, he snarled as he tugged you to his chest. “If I could have taken him to a fucking hospital I would have! But I brought him to you, now HELP HIM!”

“Steven!”, the long-haired man grumbled as he looked your way. “Be nice. She’s just being…honest. Right, sweetheart?” He sighs when you nod and tries to get to his feet but the officer is quicker, running to his side to help him stand. “See, the thing is, princess, if I go to a hospital I’ll die anyway…because they will put me…in jail especially after they find out…what-what I did tonight.”

“What did you do?”

“That doesn’t fucking matter right now. He’s losing blood and fast!”

Swallowing nervously, you step forward to unbutton his shirt and examine the cut you found. He needed stitches as soon as possible and most likely a blood transfusion unless someone got to his wound fast enough. Gesturing them both to follow you, you power walk to an exam room and begin searching for supplies as Steve carefully places the man on the table. While he removes the bloody clothes from his top half, you prep a syringe.

“Is he allergic to anything?”

“No. What is that, that you’re giving him?”

“It’s a pain killer. It won’t be as strong as ones at a hospital but…”

As you stick the needle into his stomach just above his cut, he flinches causing Steve’s expression to flood with worry as he moves the man’s hair out of his face. After quickly cleaning the area, you let out a long sigh as you glance their way. 

“Even with the shot, this is going to hurt a lot I’m afraid. I’ll try to go as fast as I can but, officer, if you can distract him that may help.”

The man on the table chuckles as he turns his head towards his friend. 

“She keeps calling you ‘officer’. Did… you not tell her your name? Or did you… scare her too much to use it?” He cringes as he hisses once you begin sewing in his stitches. “You like to…pretend to be so badass…but we both know you’re a…sweetheart.”

“Pretend to be a badass, huh? You’re one to talk.”, Steve scolds in a light sounding tone as he softly places his forehead against his own. “Eddie, I told you not to go over there.”

“They tried to hurt what was mine…”, he growled low in his throat even making you pause for a moment before focusing again on your task. “They wanted to send a message, well, message received.”

“I could have handled it.”

Grabbing Steve’s cheeks roughly, he brings his lips to his own. 

“No one takes my things and NO ONE hurts what’s mine. You belong to me, baby, and I promised I’d keep you safe.”

Finishing his sutures, you bandage him up and wrap some gauze around his lower waist. 

“Thank you.”, he whispers exhaustedly as he extends his shaky hand towards you. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re safe and I promise neither of us are going to hurt you. I’m Edward Munson but you can call me Eddie.” Your eyes widen as you slowly back away from them causing Steve to rise to his feet. “Ah. I see you’ve heard of me. Then you know you can trust me.”

Eddie tries to stand as well but sways before Steve steadies him. 

“You…you should be in a hospital. That wound needs to be looked after and you need to rest.”

“I can take care of him.”

“Steve…”

“No. No you can’t. That’s why you brought him to me.”, you sass in frustration as you try to display an air of confidence. Both men scan you over as they try to get a read on you as you continue. “If you refuse to go to a hospital, then give me your address and I can come—”

“No. No addresses. We can’t have you giving it to the police.”

“Oh you mean you?!”

You and Steve square off, tightening your stances as you glare at each other until Eddie laughed beside you both. 

“Brave girl with attitude. I like it.”

“I don’t. Little girl needs to be put in her place.”

“I highly doubt you’re the man to do that.”, you sass.

“Yeah well good thing there’s two of us, honey, and trust me, whatever I start Eddie can definitely finish.”

Sighing, you fold your arms as you argue with the internal dialogue inside your head. 

“You can come to my apartment but I have one condition. After he heals, I never want to see either of you again.”

Their eyes meet for a moment before Eddie finally nods. 

“You have a deal, princess.”

############

“Um, I don’t have a spare room or anything but the couch is comfortable. Just make sure to stay on your back if you can.” Eddie nods as Steve places him down and hastily begins removing the gear attached to him. “Let me grab some blankets and pillows.”

Disappearing into your bedroom, you grab any extra bedding you had and began to head their way but paused when you heard them talking. 

“Why are you being mean to her? I thought you said she took care of you.”

“She did. I just… I was worried about you. It’s my job to take care of you to, honey.”

“And snapping at the woman who’s trying to help will do what exactly?” Steve laughs through his teeth at Eddie question. “I think it’s because you like her.”

“Pfft what?”

“Oh, look at Officer Harrington blushing.”, the long-haired man teases as he reaches out to touch the boy’s face. “I know I just met her and she was busy saving my life but I can see why…”, he chuckles before wincing as he grabs his side. 

“Are you alright?”, you ask as you come back to the living room and kneel down on your knees in front of him. 

“Yeah, I’m alright. I’ve been through way worse than this.”

You take quick note of his wound before handing Steve the things you found, watching with fascination as he tosses the things for him to the side before placing the pillow on his lap and guiding the man back to lay down. 

“If, um, if you notice it bleeding through or he starts getting a fever, come and get me immediately.” 

The officer nods as he throws the blanket over Eddie and comfortingly rests his hand on his chest, his thumb gently running along the man’s tattooed skin. 

***

Your alarm goes at 4am that morning, startling you as you shoot up right. Groggily, you shuffled to your bathroom and grabbed the items Eddie would need so you could change his bandages. Both men were fast asleep when you entered the living room, Steve still clinging to him with his other hand very close to where his gun was resting on the little table you had beside your couch. 

“Mr. Munson?”, you whisper as you sit on the coffee table across from them. When he didn’t stir you couldn’t help but take the opportunity to visually take in one of the most notorious gangsters in the city. You had never seen a picture of him and he definitely wasn’t what you pictured when you heard the rumors from people in the clinic. 

He did have an air of control surrounding him but his voice and face were incredibly soft especially when it came to Steve. You heard him get upset though so you imagined that amplified out in the streets and you hoped you never met that version of him. He had a lot of tattoos painting his upper torso that seemed completely random except for the symbol of his gang that was tattooed on many other men and women you had seen previously minus the tiny initials “S.H.” inscribed within the design. 

Eddie was fairly muscular appearing more toned in his abs and upper arms. Slightly blocking your view was Steve’s massive palm over his chest, almost as if that was his way to make sure the man was still breathing. He had been exceptionally rude with you but with the gangster, he transformed before your eyes, becoming softer and listening to everything the other man said without question. They both obviously seemed to care strongly about each other which you found slightly amusing given their slight Romeo and Juliet story; one being a cop and the other a criminal. 

“Mr. Munson.”

Extending your hand, you tried gently shaking his upper shoulder and in one swift motion, he grabbed your wrist and held you tightly as he raised his fist in the air prepared to defend himself. Swallowing nervously, you froze as his intense eyes scanned your own. 

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t…” Eddie promptly let you go and winced as he sat up in front of you. 

“No, no. It’s ok. After what happened, I completely understand. I just need to check you out and rewrap your wound.”

“Would it be easier for you if we went to the table?”

“Oh, no, this is ok but I do have to turn on the light.”

Eddie follows your eyes as you glance towards Steve. 

“Trust me, it won’t bother him one bit. I don’t think he’s had a consistent night’s sleep since he was hurt.”

“How long have you two been involved?”, you ask as you begin the task in front of you hoping to distract him as well from the pain. 

“In my business or each other?”, he smirks when you breathily laugh. “Both answers are more or less the same. He had the balls to arrest me on a charge we both knew wouldn’t stick. I knew he was different when he tried to get me to flip sides and sell out my friends. Usually, cops knew better than to do that especially with me.”

The gangster paused when you tried to clean his cut, flinching as he gritted his teeth. 

“What happened? Did he take you in?”

“No, I did when I let him fuck me handcuffed in the back of his cruiser.”, he chuckled, slightly surprised when you did as well. “We’ve been watching out for each other ever since. He’s actually not as big of an asshole as he seems. Steve just has a big heart and wants to take care of everything himself. He likes to be the big, strong man, you know? That’s why he’s been so short lately.”

“What happened there? He didn’t tell me; just said he was jumped.”

“I don’t think that’s something you should know. The less we tell you the better.”

“Mr. Munson, you, a well-known Mafia style gang leader, showed up at my clinic after hours with a police officer bleeding out. I think that line has been crossed.”, you grin up at him finding his eyes watching you again. “I assume it was someone from Carver’s side. You told Steve something about them sending a message.”

“Yeah… Jason Carver isn’t exactly a fan of mine even more so since I took over. My dad was always a…shoot first ask questions later which is why he’s in jail right now. He was sloppy and greedy like Jason. I don’t want to hurt people I don’t have to.” Leaning forward, you start wrapping the gauze around him but you can’t help to inhale the strong scent of cigarettes and cologne. You don’t see it but his own head tilts slightly, inhaling your shampoo from the night before when you finally had time for a shower and the regular smells of your office that attached to your skin. 

Eddie’s lips ever so slightly grazed your shoulder that was exposed due to the tank top you were currently wearing causing you to shutter softly as you pulled back to cut the bandage. 

“Are you afraid of me, Y/N?”, he asked in a low tone that had you exhaling as you tried to maintain your composure. 

“Mr. Munson, I work in a city filled with crime and scared citizens. I don’t really have the luxury of being afraid.”

“That’s not what I asked you.” Calloused fingers reached out to grip the bottom of your chin and forced your eyes to meet his. “Even though I take no pleasure in it, I have hurt and killed people. I killed two people just last night. Carver got the idea in his head that roughing up the man I love would have me submitting to him and his whims. I’m not the submissive type and I made sure he knew that by slitting the throats of the two men that put hands on him. I don’t regret it and I’d do it again.”

“How did you get hurt then?”

“Unfortunately, Carver isn’t an idiot. He had more men appear and try to take us out. Steve showed up and someone pulled a knife… Let’s just say that someone got in a good attempt before I snapped his neck.”

The way he spoke about such violent things was so even, almost as if he could be reading from a grocery list. This was his every day and you could tell by his tone he knew it would continue to be. But there was something about him… something that made you feel safe. 

“No, I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Munson.”

“I think under the circumstances, you can call me Eddie.”

A cell phone ringing pulled you both apart but didn’t stir the man it belonged to as he continued to snore with his head leaning over the back of the couch. 

“Steve. Steven.”, the man called as he shook his arm rousing him from his deep sleep. “Your phone is ringing.”

Without opening his eyes, the officer reached into his pocket, producing his device, and placing it to his ear as he answered with gravelly “yeahs” and “mhmms”. 

“I have to go in. Someone called in about the shooting on the eastside and they found Carver’s guys.” Rubbing his eyes and as if he forgot you were there, Steve tenderly kissed Eddie’s lips before rising to his feet and putting on all of his gear once more. “Please keep an eye on him and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I have to go to work.” Pausing, he exhaled heavily as he turned and flashed you an annoyed look. “I have to. It would look weird if I didn’t. I’ve never missed a day but if we leave early enough…I can bring him with me and keep him in my office.”

“Is it ok to move him that much?”

As if to prove a point, Eddie rose to his feet. 

“I’ll be ok. I’m a quick healer. Don’t worry about us.”

###############

Thankfully, you didn’t have too many patients today so you were able to keep yourself locked in your office with the gangster you were attempting to hide. As soon as you brought him in, he fell asleep on your office couch, allowing you to leave him be so you could do what you needed. 

As you were reading a chart however you heard giggling in the exam room beside your office and quickly went to investigate, finding Eddie sitting next to a child on the exam table making her laugh. 

“Look, princess, you can’t trick me like that.”

“It’s thumb war! You have to be stronger.”

“Ok, best two out of three.”

“Kylie, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”, you beam trying not to startle either of them. 

“Hey Dr. Y/L/N! My mom told me to come down to see if you had any more samples of my inhaler.”

“Oh, honey. I don’t. I’m so sorry. I usually try and save one for you but I had another patient who had an emergency so I had to give it to him.”

“Why do you need an inhaler? Is it for the other people whose breath you take away because you’re so adorable?”

Kylie giggles as she turns towards Eddie and blushes. 

“No! I have asthma. My mommy brings me here to get my medicine because we can’t afford the stores.”, she sighs as her head hangs.

The man’s eyes meet your sympathetic ones before softly smiling and giving the little girl his attention again. 

“Hey. Can you keep a secret?” The small child nods in earnest making his smile widen. “Have you heard of a little convenience store called Cunningham’s Corner? It’s about a 5-minute walk from here. Go to that store and ask for Chrissy. Tell her Eddie sent you and you need an inhaler. She’ll give it to you for free.”

Kylie’s eyes widen as if this man just told her a fairytale.

“Free?”

“Mhmm. But you can’t tell anyone! Because then other people will take advantage.”

After giving him a hug, she jumps down from the table and starts to head for the door. 

“Hey! Here. Give Miss Cunningham this paper when you tell her what you need, ok?”, you instruct as you hand her a prescription with the name of what she needs. 

“Ok. Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N!”

“Thank you. That was really nice of you.”

Rising from his seat, he waddles with you back to your office. 

“It’s not a problem. I heard her coughing and crying so I wanted to make sure she was alright. Is she a regular?”

“Yeah and, unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for her to come by herself. Her mom is a single mother who works 60hrs a week trying to make ends meet. They came to me when she started having her symptoms but there’s only so much I can do here with my resources.”

“Are you underfunded?”

“Yeah. I do what I can but because of where I’m located…”

“Why don’t you move to a better location?”

“I can’t do that. I can’t leave these people. They need someone to help them since a regular clinic would immediately turn them away since a lot of them have no money or no insurance.”

“You’re a very kind woman, Y/N.”

Flashing him a smile, a knock makes you jump as you quickly get up to see who it is. 

“It’s Hawkins PD Detective Jim Hopper. I’d like to have word with you for a moment.”

Right as you scan your room, Eddie hides himself in front of you against the wall so he wouldn’t be seen when you finally open the door between you and the gentleman.

“May, uh, my we come in?”

“We?”, you ask as your eyes flick to the wide, stern eyes of Steve behind him. “What’s this about, detective?”

“I don’t know if you heard but we had a gang related fight in the area and we got some intel that Edward Munson may have been severally wounded.”

“Ok? And what does that have to do with me?”

“It wasn’t far from your clinic so we thought, maybe, you heard something or saw something?”

“What time was this?”

“Around 7-8pm.”

“My clinic closes at 6 so—”

“I mean, as a doctor though I’m sure you work late hours—”

“Not last night.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie mime with his hand for you to calm down a bit and you close your eyes as you sigh before responding again. “I’m sorry, Officers. It’s just been a rough week. I left early last night to come in early this morning and do some work. I haven’t heard or seen anything but I can be on the lookout.”

Hopper nods, tilting his hat as he begins to walk away. 

“I’m just going to give her some details and information so she knows what to be on the lookout for exactly.”, Steve informs his colleague who confirms before disappearing to lean against the waiting room desk. 

Pulling out his notepad, he steps closer to you pretending to write things down. 

“Where is he?”, Steve whispers, smirking when your eyes flick to the side. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“You like it.”, Eddie murmurs. “Should we be worried?”

“No, a few of Carver’s guys are in the morgue.” 

You had seen many people come and go during your time as a physician so when the officer shook his head looking away down the hallway, you could tell he was lying. 

“What aren’t you telling him?”

Steve’s angry, amber eyes met yours as an annoyed grunt left his lips. 

“Nothing. Stay in your lane, doctor.”

“Hey.”, Eddie growled low beside you. “Watch your tone. You wouldn’t keep anything from me would you, Steven?”

“I was questioned this morning seeing as how I was jumped and then suddenly men from Carver’s gang show up dead.”, the cop sighs. “I told you not to go over there.”

You could feel the tension rising between them but you were still being watched and couldn’t risk the gangster being seen. Eddie was slipping to far in his own frustration to think that far as he began pushing off the wall to scold his partner but you quickly placed your hand on his chest lightly pushing him back down. 

“Did you get in trouble?”

“No.”, he responds to your question. “But I am being watched a lot closer hence the detective.”

“And your bruises?”

“Huh?”

“You were hurt to. Is the medicine helping at all?”

Steve’s eyes take in your face clocking in your genuine concern. 

“It is actually. Thank you.” When you smile back at his answer a tooth filled grin paints his features. “I, um, I should be done here by about 7 or so. I’ll head to your place, come get him, and then…we’ll be out of your hair.”

#############

“Ok, so, make sure to keep this clean and if you find yourself in any excruciating pain or like I told Steve if you get a fever come back to me so I can take a look.”

“Hm. I thought you never wanted to see us again.”, Eddie teased as he carefully put back on the shirt you gave him. 

“I don’t but that doesn’t mean I want you to get sick or die or whatever.”

The gangster’s smile grew as he watched you blush. 

“How come you don’t have a boyfriend or husband or whatever?”

“What makes you think I don’t?”

“Because if you were our girl, there’s no way I would have gone two days without calling or checking in and I’d definitely have something to say if I found two men sleeping here.”

“Our girl?”

“Oh, sweetheart. Any woman I date is with Steve as well and most can barely handle my attitude and temper let alone both of ours.”

“You seem nice enough to me.”

“I can be mean when I want to be.”

“I’m always busy…to answer your question. A lot of relationships I’ve had can’t handle my schedule.”

“Hm, I understand that. Steve and I have conflicting schedules all the time.” Eddie’s eyes watch you as you gather the trash from cleaning his cut and head towards the trashcan to avoid his gaze. “But we make time for each other. That’s what you do when you care about someone.”

“Yeah, well, I guess no one really cares about me.”, you sassily smirk as you sigh and wash your hands in the sink. 

Feeling the energy shift, you turn coming chest to chest with the man himself.

“I care about you. Steve cares about you.”

“I’m pretty sure Officer Harrington hates me.”, you giggle but it tapers off when his face remains stoic.

“He doesn’t. He wouldn’t have brought me to you if he didn’t trust you.”

“You don’t know me, Eddie.”

“I know enough.” 

Shaking your head, you laugh again trying to lighten the intense atmosphere as you begin to walk back towards the living room but his hand promptly grabs your bicep and moves you till your standing in front of him once more. 

“You saved me and helped him. I just watched you all day take care of people who can’t normally afford care. You have a kind heart and you’re extremely beautiful. Do you know that? Do you know how beautiful you are?”

A knock on your door startled you but not him as he continued to stare down at you waiting for an answer. Silently, you allowed Steve entry who immediately took in your rattled appearance. 

“Everything ok?”

“Mhmm. I was just asking Y/N if she knew how beautiful she was.”

His gorgeous, honey hues widen slightly as if he was surprised before turning his attention back to you. 

“You know you are, right?”

“I-I think you both should leave.”, you whisper with little to no confidence in what you were saying. 

“Is that what you want?”, he mused as he strolled further into your apartment. “Because we can leave right now and like you asked, disappear from your life forever. Or, maybe, you can let us thank you properly.”

“I thought you didn’t like me…said you wanted to put me in my place.”

They both chuckle making your face turn a deep crimson in embarrassment.

“Baby, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. It just means that I think I’d have a lot of fun playing with you.”

“Playing with me?”

Steve subtly nods his head as Eddie slowly moves closer to the living room where you two were standing. 

“Teasing you, kissing you, taking care of you…taking control of you and your gorgeous body till you’re begging me to let you cum.” Tilting his head, his eyes meet yours as his fingers caress your face. “When’s the last time you had someone take care of you?”

The other man comes up behind you, sandwiching you between them as he gently places his palm on your stomach under your blouse. 

“I asked you something, honey.”

“It’s been a while.”, you jest making Steve smirk as Eddie stepped closer to you till your back was to his chest. His hand continued to run along your skin with his fingers just barely floating under the waistband of your pants before coming back up to rub your stomach. “I’m scared.”

Everyone freezes in place at your words but as the gangster tries to drop his hand, you quickly catch it and hold it in place back on your tummy. 

“Of us?”, he asks.

“I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Resting his head on your shoulder, his palm wonders again this time going further as you feel him slide into your underwear and cup his hand around your heat. 

“You won’t, sweetheart. I promise, you’re safe with us. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

“And neither will I. I can protect you from getting in any kind of trouble with the law or anything like that. You have two men here who control both sides of the coin…” As Steve’s voice dropped into a more and more seductive register, Eddie’s lips gently pecked your shoulder and up to your neck as his finger graze your clit while gliding them through your folds.

“You just need to let go and let us control you.”

“Fuck.”, you groaned as he slid two of his digits into your core.

“Is that a yes?”, Steve chuckles sassily as he watches your eyes close as you lean your head against his boyfriend.

“I think so, Harrington, because pretty girl here is just dripping all over my hand.”

“Yeah? We need to hear her say it though. Do you want us to take care of you tonight, honey?”

“H-He—mmm—Eddie can’t with his…with his cut.”

“Oh trust me, Y/N, that won’t be an issue. Now answer my question, please.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want you to take care of me.”

As if they could read each other’s minds, Eddie’s hand slipped out of your pants and Steve picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried you to your bedroom. 

“Ow! Something in your vest is stabbing me, Officer Harrington.”, you giggle before he tosses you onto your mattress. 

“Sorry. I forgot to take this stuff off. I was blindsided by a stupid question when I came in.”, he grinned as he began removing his equipment and placed them on your bedside table. 

Eddie carefully climbed in and you hastily set up pillows so he could lean back comfortable against your headboard. 

“Thank you. I don’t think that question was ever answered. DO you know how beautiful you are?”

“Sometimes I need reminding.”, you sigh as your nervous eyes meet his soft ones. 

“We can do that, sweetheart.”

Taking hold of your cheeks, he brought your lips to his and your body ignited with an electricity you had never felt before as his lips carefully but firmly mingled with yours. Steve’s laugh echoed through your room as he looped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the gangster to bring you in front of him at the edge of the bed. 

He had taken off his shirt and out of habit as a doctor you scanned his bruises to make sure he was ok. Clocking your care once again, his fingers gripped your chin and brought your mouth to his own.

“It’s ok. I’m still a bit sore but you helped me a lot.”

As he continued to kiss your lips, you allowed him to undress you making him pause when you were fully naked in front of them. 

“Jesus Christ.”

“I told you, princess…beautiful.”, Eddie grinned.

Smiling widely at their compliments, your hands roamed Steve’s chest, kissing a trail along the way till you reached his belt and fumbled with the barrier before fully pushing down his pants. You gasped when his cock sprang free causing them both the chuckle again as you practically gapped at the size. 

“I know. It was a shock to me to.”, the gangster teased as the officer stuck out his tongue playfully. 

“You liked it. And I promise, honey, you’ll like it to.”

Gripping the base, he held his mushroom tip towards your lips and moaned when your tongue darted out to lick the small beads of precum that had begun to leak. Steve pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail so he could watch as you slowly wrapped your mouth around him and gradually began bobbing your head.

 “Shit. Atta girl. Flatten that tongue. J-Just like that.”

Another set of hands softly ran down you back and over your ass before the cool sting of metal hit your behind. 

“Did you like that, pretty girl? Did you like Eddie spanking you?”, the officer asked when you moaned loudly. 

Fingers glided ever so slightly through your pussy lips and even you couldn’t deny hearing the squishy sound of your slick that obscenely filled your bedroom. 

“Oh Stevie. She definitely enjoyed that.”

“Yeah? You like it a bit rough, little girl?”

Eddie guided his middle and ring fingers inside of you eliciting a mewl from your throat that had the man inside of your mouth grunting with pleasure. 

“Fuck. I think…I think you can take me a bit deeper.”

Thrusting his hips a bit, you gag around him spilling drool and spit down his length as you mentally take note of the fact that that wasn’t all of him you choked on. 

“Come on, honey, take more. I know you can, baby.”

Tears stream down your face as you try but barely take more of him in. Gripping your jaw, he pulls out of your mouth and leans his face in front of yours as his eyes search yours. 

“Green, good. Yellow, slow down. Red, stop. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Fuck… green.”

“Ok, then why are you crying? We haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“I-I-I wanna take more. I want to make you feel good to.”

You heard your tone as it came out of your mouth but you barely recognized it. You sounded like a child who was told she couldn’t play outside because it was raining. What was it about these men that transformed you in this way? In relationships or even one-night stands, you never cared about this kind of thing. Usually, men never complained and you were never fully satisfied after they left resorting to your vibrator to get you the rest of the way. 

But for whatever reason, you wanted to impress them. You desperately wanted them to feel good because some part of you had a feeling that they were going to do the same for you. 

Steve’s eyes softened as Eddie’s fingers slowed inside of you. 

“Be nice to her, babe. She’s got a good heart and she did take care of us.”

“Can you keep your mouth open for me, pretty girl?” He grins when you nod your head, wiping your tears with his thumb before kissing your cheek. “And you are making me feel good. Your mouth feels fucking amazing.”

You beam with pride as you do what he asked, whimpering when Eddie began building you up again. 

Holding your head still, Steve guided his cock back between your lips, doing the slow thrusts he was doing before as you kept your mouth closed around him. Your eyes squeezed shut as his pace began to quicken, his tip occasionally hitting the back of your throat. 

“There you go, baby. T-That’s it. See? Doing—fuck—doing so well. Now, stay still.”

As he began fucking your face, the gangster matched his pace making you groan as obscenities flowed from the officer’s mouth.  

“Shit. Take it, little girl. That’s right. You love the taste of my cock in your throat, don’t you?” Reaching over you, his hand calm down hard on your ass and your palm pushed at his legs signaling you needed air. “Are you gonna cum? Ask him, Y/N. Ask Eddie if it’s ok.”, he commanded as he forced your head towards the other man. 

“Eddie, please. Please… can I…”

“Yeah, princess. Cum on my fingers.”

You collapsed as you came, moaning loudly into the mattress as you tried to catch your breath. You weren’t given much time however as Steve manhandled you till you up on your hands and knees again with your face hovering over the bulge in the other man’s pants. 

After unbuckling his belt, he pushed them down just enough to free his own cock from his denim confinement and you didn’t hesitate as you wrapped your tiny hands around his thick girth. Hands clung tightly to your waist and you braced yourself when you felt Steve collect some of your arousal with his length before gradually pushing into your entrance. 

“Oh, fuck me.”

“How does she feel, Harrington?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to focus on the man in front of you, letting a long glob of spit land on his tip as you stroked it with your hand. 

“S-So…So fucking tight.” His palm came down on your ass and you groaned as he continued to push further inside of you. 

“I like my view here. Make—mmm—make sure you fuck her nice and deep. Beautiful girl deserves it after everything she’s been through.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey. I plan on ruining this little pussy.”

Eddie chuckles as he watches Steve lick his lips as your cunt tightens around him at his words. 

“What about you, princess?”, he murmurs as he tenderly pets your head.

“He’s…so BIG.”

“Yeah, he is. Does he feel good?” You nod as your head hangs and he promptly grabs your jaw forcing you to look his way. “Say it.”

“Fuck, Steve, you feel so fucking good!”

“That’s a good girl.”

You mewled when you felt him bottom out, his hips connecting with yours, allowing you to feel every inch before he pulled back and slammed back into you. Eddie’s mouth fell open as you bobbed your head on his cock. While he wasn’t as big as his boyfriend, he was definitely thicker and you felt like your mouth was full of him. 

He was much gentler with you, continuing to play with your hair and mutter praises as Steve pounded into you, rocking you further down the gangster’s length as you choked and spit around him. 

“God, honey, this pussy is too…fucking…good.”, Steve grunted, smacking his lower half into yours between each word. Leaning over you, he rolled his hips, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt as your eyes rolled back. “His dick tastes amazing, doesn’t it? Mmm—fucking love when he shoves it down my throat.”

Moving out of his way, Steve envelopes Eddie into his mouth making the gangster moan as he extends his hand to tangle in his hair. As his boyfriend continued to fuck you, your own groans vibrated against the long haired boy’s balls driving him crazy as he growled through his clenched teeth. 

“Fuck! You’re both so fucking sexy. That’s it, baby boy, take my cock.”

After pumping his hips a few times, Eddie let him go and Steve pushed up onto his knees pounding into you till you were seeing stars. Taking the man’s length in your mouth again, you mimicked the other boy’s movements trying to keep a steady pace as you hurdled towards the edge. 

“A-Are you about to cum? Fuck, Y/N, you better fucking ask one of us, little girl, if you want to fucking cum!”

Your glassy, needy eyes met the chocolate ones of the man in front of you, pleading as you began to shake.

“Ask, Y/N.”

“Please, Eddie! Please, I need to cum!”

Taking a hold of your hair, he firmly tugged you till your face was fully visible. A small smile flickered across his lips, watching you struggle till he finally nodded granting you permission. 

Steve reached around and took hold of your throat, lifting you till you were pressed against him, squeezing you tightly as he fucked you through the most intense orgasm you had ever had. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Are you on the pill?”, Steve roughly growled in your ear, his rhythm and intensity increasing when you said yes. “Good because I’m going to fill up this pussy and you’re going to take it like a good little girl. You’re going to take everything I give you and be fucking thankful.”

He grunted in your ear as he held your lower half against him as he rolled his hips aggressively, pumping his release into your cunt.

“Steve.”, Eddie called in a firm tone you barely heard through your haze.

“Excuse me, honey.”

Carefully, he pulled his softening cock out of your aching hole and gently laid you on your side before crawling up the gangster’s legs and taking him into his mouth. You watched with hooded eyes as his boyfriend took him all the way down his shaft, massaging his balls with his palm, as Eddie groaned.

“That’s my good boy. You wanna swallow my cum?”

Steve nodded as his eyes met his own and with a few thrusts of Eddie’s hips, his head fell back as he released his spend down the man’s throat. After sharing a soft but passionate kiss, they turned their attention to you.

“Are you ok, babe? Do you need anything? Water?”

“Will you lay with me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, of course.”

You didn’t even hesitate when you scoot to Eddie’s side and wrapped your arms around your stomach, placing your head on his chest. The last thing you remember is feeling warmth behind you and the sound of Steve’s steady breathing on your skin before you fell asleep.

***

“DID YOU SERIOUSLY THINK THERE WOULD BE NO CONSEQUENCES?!”

Your head shot up when you heard shouting in your living room. Eddie and Steve were missing but the voice you heard definitely wasn’t theirs. Quickly throwing on the officer’s shirt you listened as the voice continued.

“Did you really think you could come on to our territory, break into one of our stash houses, and kill a bunch of our guys?”

“I think the real question you should be asking is how easy it was for me and my guys to break in.”, Eddie responded angrily. 

“Shut the fuck up, trailer trash! You think because you moved out here and took over Al’s business, you’re different but you aren’t. You’re still that garbage that he left behind with his brother before you suddenly decided you wanted in. Ah ah ah! Don’t make me shoot you, Steve. I have no problem killing a law man.”

“If you’re not here to kill us, Andrew, then what do you want?”, Steve spat.

Glancing quickly around the room, you realize his gun was still in its holster near your nightstand and as quietly as you could pulled it from its home. Tip toeing out into the hallway, you held it in front of you as you peaked around the corner. 

The person you didn’t recognize had his back to you as he pointed his own pistol at Eddie and Steve who both had their hands raised where he could see them. 

“Jason just wants Edward so we can make an example of him and what happens when you cross the Carvers.”

“I think you underestimate the Munsons, Andy.” Slowly, you creeped up behind him, praying he wouldn’t turn around. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere. I hope Jason understands that this wasn’t a good move.”

“Yeah well, you can tell him yourself. Now come on or I will shoot him.”, Andrew threatens as he points his weapon Steve.

“Not if we shoot you first.”

At Eddie’s words, you cock the gun and pull the trigger.

##############