#because the last two times i tried i got bacterial infections

[tenspontaneite]

Before and after pictures of my biohazard bathroom. So y'all can see this particular Horror I've been dealing with lately.

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

Looks like I won't be using the medicine my podiatrist gave me for my feet.

Under a cut because body stuff.

For the unaware: my feet like to sweat most when cold. It makes them colder, so thry sweat more. The only to make it stop is to bury my feet under a lot of heat, at which point they stop sweating and start feeling like they're on fire. When hot, they sweat only when I wear shoes, be it sandals or sneakers. Sweating while cold means changing my socks often as well. Having carpet and rugs prevents the sweating because my feet are warm.

I mentioned this to my podiatrist, who prescribed Drysol for me. It's a prescription antiperspirant, and even though I'm allergic to store-bought antiperspirants*, I gave it a go.

Two rounds of this over four days, and I have sweatless feet. Yay!

This morning, I woke up with itchy hands and feet. My last dose was two days ago, and my feet were thoroughly washed at six hours after application. Itchiness like this is exclusive to one thing for me: hives. When I get hives, it's always on my hands and feet. More specifically, it begins there. The last time I had an allergic reaction like this was when I last used Monistat One** in 2020. I woke up to hives from my knees to the bottoms of my feet, elbows to my palms, hives between my legs, and chemical burns. It took around three or four months to get rid of the hives, and those made my skin peel like a bad sunburn. The yeast infection took more than two years of prescription yeast infection treatment, including daily application of of ointment. It was gross.

My hands and feet feel exactly like that right now, minus the visual rash. Hives are a rash under the skin, so it can take a bit for them to show. As soon as the spots show up though, we'll be at urgent care to get me a medicine to treat it. No more Drysol for me though, and I'll be calling my pharmacy to inform them it needs to be added as an allergy now.

Small note:

*I'm allergic to antiperspirants, as well as deodorant. Until I was in my 30s, I had to carry a little bag of wet wipes to wipe down my armpits so I wouldn't stink. From secondary school (i had my forst period at age nine) to high school, i had a note in my student file stating i cannot use deodorant or antiperspirants because of my allergy. I tried every all-natural deodorant i could find, hand an allergic reaction to one, irritated skin to a few more, and none changed how badly i would smell. Then I was introduced to the brand Little Seed Farm, and they make all natural deodorants. They also have sample packs, so I got a couple of them. At this point in my life, I've had to stop shaving due to a severe hair follicle infection that fucked up both armpits so badly, my likelihood of developing another infection is virtually guaranteed. Now I sweat significantly less because my body is able to cool down. The spot tests for the unscented and the activated charcoal samples i ordered produced zero negative reaction. Not even red skin. I use the activated charcoal option, and have zero stink while sweating for about the next 36 hours. It stops stinking (odor), not sweating (perspiring).

**My obgyn says to never use that stuff because compressing seven days of treatment into a single dose is a great way to have this happen. Now I get a little prescription pill I take, no mess, and if I need cream, I get the gentle stuff. If you have to use yeast infection medicine, first test that it's a yeast infection; if it's a bacterial imbalance, you will need antibiotics and yeast infection medicine will make things significantly worse. If it's a yeast infection. Get no concentration higher stronger than three days.

[jodilin65]

I woke up for a few minutes with a tickle in my throat which caused a coughing fit but I don’t think this had anything to do with sleep apnea. Then thunder woke me up after a little over 6.5 hours of sleep. Tom said the loud thunder actually started an hour before I was woken up.

I was tired but it could have been worse. I wonder if I would have felt worse without the mouthguard. I’m pondering whether, had I not woken up coughing and if the storm hadn’t disturbed my sleep, an extra hour or two of rest might have left me feeling refreshed.

My jaw was a little sore when I got up and I briefly considered skipping a night with the mouthguard but I don’t want to be tired again tomorrow if this thing is really helping me. I want to get on with the testing and find out for sure. It looks like there aren’t going to be any storms for the next week so I should get enough days of testing.

Shortly before midnight last night, I knew my sleep was doomed when I checked the hourly weather. Usually, they push storm times out to be later than first expected but they didn’t push the time out but increased the likelihood instead.

Again I wonder how bad this summer is going to be. A thought ran through my mind; if there is anything up there actually cursing my sleep, then if the mouthguard is helpful, it’s going to throw more storms at me and other things to fuck with my sleep.

Ray said hi to Tom the other day and he was the one to speak first. Maybe he’s sexist, although to be fair, Ray didn’t see me when he was hosing his place down. His back was toward me when I said hello.

A nurse will pay me to come to the house to take my vitals, go over medications, and make sure everything’s nice and safe. It’s a one-time thing. Not sure if it’s because I’m older or just part of my insurance plan.

Getting really sick of having to call other countries to get help in my own country. Had to call the insurance company to make sure I really was eligible for them to pay me $100 to come out to the house. After dealing with yet another hard-to-understand accent, I scheduled an appointment for the 26th. Of course, she too, will be a foreigner.

When I was a kid I hardly saw foreigners and now it seems like every other person isn’t from here. If they could just adopt our accent it wouldn’t be so bad although the more people we have coming over here, the more it still hogs our resources and takes jobs from the people from here.

Even though the GYN I saw is also not from here (at least I don’t think she is even though she barely had an accent) I liked her better than Dr. D and would like to switch to seeing her. Dr. T was much gentler, told me everything she was doing, and it didn’t hurt as much. She said I definitely have moderate to severe atrophy but didn’t feel anything else going on. She did, however, see a yellow discharge. As soon as she said that my mind immediately went to a bacterial infection since yeast is usually white and that’s what she said she thought it was. She took a swab and even a urine sample which I had no problem providing to see if the WBCs that I told her had been elevated in past samples were still up there or not.

When we got back I ate and tried to nap but couldn’t. I’m in a great mood, just tired. I’m glad this appointment is over and that I went after all if I really have an infection or something I need treatment for. As I told her, I haven’t felt any burning for a few weeks now. We never discussed an estrogen-based cream which I’m hesitant to use anyway. A fingertip full of Replens or something similar should do the trick as long as I’m consistent.

Tom got a text message when we got home saying that amoxicillin had been called into the pharmacy but then it was canceled. I guess they decided it would be best to wait for the results of the tests rather than jump the gun and assume anything.

Passed an accident on the way down, as usual. I still can’t believe how common accidents are here. Someone got rear-ended and the person was on a stretcher being loaded into an ambulance. The back corner of their car had a lot of damage.

That’s two appointments in a row I was tired for so hopefully I’ll be more awake when I see the ENT on the 23rd.

We still have to make the appointment for the eye specialist which I’m guessing will be male and foreign. Another thing I noticed early on is that most of the doctors are male here unlike in Cali and I wonder if that has anything to do with this not being a great place to live. At least the cost of living is lower and the weather is warmer. Not as warm as I’d like in the winter but it’s definitely an improvement over NorCal.

Dr. D isn’t sick and didn’t have an accident. She’s having a baby. She must be a high-risk pregnancy to take that much time off unless she just wants to spend the first few months of its life with it. Nothing against her but I hope to see Dr. T the next time I need to go. Dr. D just wasn’t as friendly or gentle. Loved the nails and sparkly eyeshadow Dr. T had on as well. I could tell that like me, she has a thing for bright colors and shiny things. The most important thing is finding out exactly what I have and treating it. More than likely, the Norovirus did end up infecting me after all. I wonder if the dream I had a few weeks ago about being swept out to sea had anything to do with today’s appointment.

Arizona reverting to the Draconian laws of 160 years ago doesn’t shock, sadden or anger me as these things would when they first started happening. Again, if you don’t want your rights taken away then don’t vote Republican! The people got what they voted for. Sure, there are some people that think like I do but I seem to be becoming more and more of a minority.

Damn, it’s windy out there! Can’t imagine why since the storm passed hours ago. Still don’t see any rain or storms predicted through the 20th but I know these things can creep up on us. I love listening to the wind and wind chimes. We got tornado warnings on our phones earlier in the day, too.

Not all news is bad. OJ croaked from cancer! Here’s where I hope the two-time murderer is being tortured in hell if such a place exists. I don’t know if it does but I know he was guilty as fuck. Just the way he ran was confession enough and I don’t doubt for a minute that like Michael Jackson, he didn’t get off because he was rich, famous, and innocent. He got off because he was black and the judge knew that if he convicted the bastard, the LA riots of 1992 would repeat themselves all over again. So he only got off to spare innocent people from being hurt.

Remembering that it’s CampNano month, I checked into the Nano site and it’s just so sad because I miss Aly so damn much. Her account is still there of course. All my projects from 2011 forward are there too, but I can’t see myself returning because it’s just not the same without her. On the 17th, she would have been 43.

In better news, throw asparagus tips in the oven for 5 minutes at 425° and it’s great! I sprayed it with oil first and I’m really coming to like this olive/avocado oil, too.

[deathly-sick-flowers]

No Sugar Part Three

i was married once, for a month. we rented a small house boat and stayed on a lake for 4 nights. nasty water. a bacterial infection in her brain from some ameoba in the water. only 2 days after diagnosis her body gave up. it’s been 12 years. i don’t remember her fucking name. my wife. i can tell you how it feels to try DMT while on ketamine though. vices have been my safety net, i don’t care what happens to me. i’ve been alone for so long, some company is nice. they call me babe and tell me “love you”. so i’m in love with them, naturally. we’ve fucked four times at least tonight, none of us are sleeping they take turns on me and they do anything i ask. they aren’t very hot but the company is good. after i finish into their mouths i pour them some wine and offer them coke. they smoke cigarettes and use an old beer can as an ashtray. i think i saw it on tv so i asked if i could do a line off their ass, do you put it on their cheeks or the crack? probably the cheek i feel like i’d be straight up sniffing shit out of their asshole if i put a line on her crack. one of them has a pain kink and honestly that makes me uncomfortable. i don’t know i just don’t like putting her cigarette out on her stomach i get nothing from it. whatever, i don’t want the night to end. one of them told me that because i paid so much i’m able to fuck them both once a week. i was skeptical as hell when i walked them out the first time… hated to say goodbye. the absence all over again. but they came back, once a week. the third time we met up was just like the last two. a whole night of debauchery and lust. i really felt in love with these girls. i wanted to marry them. i want them to stay forever i want to do this every single night. can i marry two whores? who is in charge of marriage? is that a priest or some guy behind a desk downtown? what’s the law on that? do i have to say i’m mormon? how would that be proven? i’m thinking about spending the rest of my life with these dark web hookers when someone bangs on my front door. “RUTH. I KNOW YOURE IN THERE. I FOLLOWED BOTH OF YOU I KNOW YOURE IN THERE” we all stopped and looked at the door which was shaking. he kept trying to open it and slamming his shoulder into the door. he sounded pissed, and it made me feel another thing: fear. “YOUR CAR IS HERE YOU CHEATING BITCH. OPEN THE FUCK UP I JUST WANT TO TALK”

“it’s eddy” whore #1 said to ruth. now i know whore #2’s name.

“what the fuck is happening?” i asked two whores in my house. they got up and started scrambling for their stuff. not paying me any mind. they both ran to the back door to leave and i’m left in my living room, 3 lines of coke racked up on a broken mirror from my bathroom. the banging had stopped and i realized he might be checking the windows. all of them are covered by blinds anyway, i hate the sun. without thinking, i railed all 3 lines in one go and dumped a small pile from the baggie right onto my tongue. i figured it would work like gumming, but extreme. instead there was vomit, slightly pink. what a waste. i hadnt heard anything so i grabbed a beer from the fridge and looked out my kitchen window. was not sure what i was expecting to see but the second i cracked the blinds i found myself staring into the eyes of another man just outside my window. in a flash his eyes were gone and replaced with a rock that smashed through the pane. i tried to move but it was so fast it clipped my nose hard and broke it. i hit my head on the counter and fell onto the floor with the broken glass. i held my nose and winced, i got beer all over my legs and glass in my skin. the blood on my hands made me remember my mortality. i checked the window and it was open, i used the counter to pull myself up and was face to face with the man who was at my door.

“have you been fucking my wife?”

was the only thing he said to me. i stared at him, confused. he looked around my dirty house and scoffed. he reached into his jacket to pull out his gun. he cocked it and pointed it at my forehead. i stared at him. “what?” i said to the third stranger in my home.

he pulled the trigger and everything slowed down. Evelyn, i remembered. her name was Evelyn. i remembered my wife’s name.

[whumpmatsus]

Do they have to be whump related? Also Ichimatsu getting a shot pls

wasn't sure if you wanted a draw or a fic, so I did both!

and yeah, any draw or fic requests you send here should probably be whump-related since this is a whump-focused blog

though if you wanna send any draw or fic/scenario/reaction/etc. requests that AREN'T whump, you can send them to my general Osomatsu-san blog at @kisskissmatsu!

enjoooooy <3

-

-

Usually Ichimatsu is the sextuplet who’s fine being left all by himself.

Being in the hospital without his family, though, is a much different story.

It started innocently enough ― with a persistent cough that was almost certainly the herald of a cold or sore throat on the horizon. As much as he hates being sick, he sort of resigned himself to it. He’s the one among his brothers who’s forever catching what happens to be going around, despite the fact that he doesn’t spend a lot of time around other people. That’s why he started wearing a face mask when he does leave the house.

It was about a week or so of sneezing, coughing, and sniffling his way through various attempts to rest. His throat felt worse than it usually did with a cold, and even more alarming was that his chest felt like it was on fire, especially when he started coughing. Even though he started having trouble breathing, he thought maybe this was just something that would linger for a bit, something that needed more sleep to recover from.

When things didn’t taper off after that, since a week was typically all it took for him to start feeling better, the others started commenting on it.

When Ichimatsu started to spend more time in the bathroom with a sink full of hot water in the hopes that the steam would help him breathe easier, and it didn’t seem to be having any effect, they all got worried.

When Karamatsu blurted out, “I secretly took Ichimatsu’s temperature with a forehead thermometer while he was sleeping and it read 39.4!”, Mom and Dad immediately carted their fourth son off to the hospital.

It figures Shittymatsu would get him into this mess, but Ichimatsu supposes that the sneaky gesture was only out of care, otherwise Karamatsu wouldn’t have spoken up about a number that concerned him.

That doesn’t mean he has to like it. After a distressing, panic-inducing few hours of waiting and a date with the X-ray machine, the doctor diagnosed him with bacterial pneumonia. That particular diagnosis ensured that he had to be admitted into the hospital under quarantine, because as the doctor explained, bacterial pneumonia is extremely contagious and potentially life-threatening, particularly to someone with a fragile immune system like Ichimatsu. They can’t send him home to infect his brothers or the rest of the community, and even though he isn’t technically immuno-compromised, his tendency to get sick easily means that it’s better for him to be here in the hospital in case things suddenly take a bad turn.

Being in here is like he’s trapped in hell and can’t get out. Because he’s in quarantine, he never sees anybody. Which would be fine normally. Feeling so poorly is a significant reason for wanting his family nearby, though… and he can’t have them.

The most they can do is visit outside his room and talk to him through the speaker system. That’s even worse, seeing them all and not being able to have any real contact with him. Right now more than anything, what he wants is a hug from his mom. God, he wants a hug from his brothers.

It’s hard to even get any rest like he’s supposed to be doing. Most of his time is spent sitting up, trying to get a sufficient breath in while he listens to various TV channels. The idol news reminds him of Choromatsu, sports statistics remind him of Jyushimatsu, game shows remind him of Osomatsu, American dramas remind him of Karamatsu, and fashion shows remind him of Totty.

Those are just distractions, because it’s still hard to breathe. He’s struggling for most of his breaths, but too deep a breath will trigger a coughing fit. Which, in turn, makes it more difficult to breathe.

It’s barely been a day since he was admitted and already he wants out of here.

His brothers visit sometime after lunch, and they spend a few hours. Eventually the nurse gently chases them out, telling them that Ichimatsu needs to try to get some rest. Shortly after that she comes into the room, rolling her little cart with the tray on it.

“How do you feel today, Ichimatsu?” she hums, pulling on a pair of gloves. “Any better than when we admitted you?”

He shakes his head and tries to answer when another series of coughs interrupts him. Although it’s hard to cover his mouth when his whole body is aching, he does his best. After all, he doesn’t want to get anyone else sick. He’s already in quarantine, so all the doctors and nurses are taking their own precautions; still, he shouldn’t just give up and spread his germs carelessly. “N-not really.”

She nods and picks up a wrapped packet from the tray. “Well, to be honest, that’s understandable. It hasn’t been very long.” The packet is ripped open, and the distinct smell of alcohol fills the air as she carefully pushes his sleeve up. “The lack of improvement does concern us, though. So I just have to give you an injection of some medicine, okay?”

Shit. He thought that might be what was going on here. He knows he’s too exhausted to fight it, and yet, his brain evidently isn’t too exhausted to not be fucking anxious about it. “I… I have to get a shot?”

The cold wipe is rubbed against the top part of his arm. “Yeahhh… I’m sorry. This is penicillin, and it’s one of our standard treatments for pneumonia. The doctor thinks you’ll have better luck sitting still for one shot than for a whole pill-and-water deal, since you’re coughing a lot. I kind of have to agree, since you might accidentally inhale some water if you cough while trying to take the pills.”

Immediately he starts to panic. Most of the time the idea of a shot doesn’t bother him more than it might the average person ― he gets the yearly flu vaccine without any problems. Right now, however… the idea of a shot while he’s already feeling so terrible, the initial pinch and the ache that might happen afterwards and being alone, it just feels scary.

The nurse must hear the way his breathing starts to quicken, or maybe the way his hands start shaking. She gives his shoulder a little pat. “Ah, I know on your chart it says you suffer from some anxiety. Are you a bit anxious right now?”

“Y… yeah…”

“Okay. That’s totally fine, you know? Different people get anxious about different things. Would it help if I distracted you, or if I gave you a countdown so you know when it’s coming? Sometimes that helps so it’s not a surprise… or, sometimes people prefer it to be a surprise. Which one do you think would be best for you?”

… Oh. He wasn’t expecting something like that. It almost feels like he has a little control over this, despite the fact that he has to get the injection either way. “C… can you… count down?”

“Sure, of course. No problem.” Then she reaches over with one hand, grabbing the syringe with the other. “Would you like to hold my hand?”

That’s kind of… babyish, isn’t it? “I-I’m not a kid… I don’t wanna…”

She chuckles. “Well, you know, earlier today I held the hand of an elderly lady who was getting a shot. It’s not just a kid thing. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine too.”

He takes a moment to consider that, then silently slips his hand into hers.

“Alright, just squeeze if you feel like you need to. I’m all set, are you?”

“I… I think so…”

“Okay, I’m gonna give you the countdown then. Here we go. Three ― two ― one.”

As soon as she says the last number, he feels the needle pierce his skin. It’s uncomfortable, a sharp kind of pinprick pain. There’s a slight feeling of tightness and soreness as the medicine is emptied into his muscle, and a brief jolt when the nurse pulls the needle out.

All in all, even though it isn’t a pleasant experience, it’s not as bad as it could have been. It’s certainly better than choking on a pill and a glass of water if he had to try to swallow the medication.

And, at least, it’s over now.

“There. You did great, Ichimatsu. Probably my best patient of the day!” With that, she sets the syringe back down on the tray and gingerly smooths a bandage with a cotton ball over the injection site. “That should keep you clean just in case any blood trickles out from the shot, and someone will come take it off later if the adhesive starts to make your skin itch.”

He nods and coughs into his arm again, giving a soft groan. He’s just so tired, from the fever, from the coughing, from not being home. “Is it gonna m… khh… make me tired?”

“Haha, it shouldn’t, no. You might feel a little nauseous, or you might have to go to the bathroom more, or you might get a small itchy rash… just press the call button if any of that happens or if you feel strange otherwise, okay?” Her cart is all packed up already, and she’s heading out of the room. “If you get tired, it’s probably because you’re sick and need rest. So, try to sleep as much as you can.”

“’Kay.” He just feels like this illness has drained everything out of him, and there’s a little throbbing where he got the injection. But, the more he sleeps, hopefully the sooner he can recover and go home.

On her way out, the nurse dims the lights. Practically as soon as she does, Ichimatsu’s eyes start to drift closed. God, he’s so tired.

He lies down, though the bed is still a little elevated since sleeping flat will just make him cough more. Sleep tugs at him, and he has to move a little bit so he’s not putting any pressure on the area where he got the shot.

Soon. Soon he can go home.

Just as soon as he gets better.

[phantom-curve]

45 from the prompt list please for juke, happy Birthday to you!!!

Thank you! I clearly have not tortured these two enough so please enjoy this angsty Juke whump that ultimately has a happy ending because what other type of ending is there?! Set in a post-canon AU where Julie brings the boys back to life.

#45: feeling their temperature

Julie had been learning a lot about how to deal with various phantom related issues in the last few months. She had learned that the boys needed constant touch and reassurance that they were somehow solid to her, mostly in the form of Luke pulling her into a hug at the end of practice or Reggie throwing himself on top of her while she was sprawled out on the couch doing homework or Alex’s fingers just gently running across the back of her shoulders or the skin of her elbow when she would walk past him at any given time. She had learned that Luke missed meatball subs more than anything, and that Reggie was still sad that that one pizza place on the pier had shut down, and Alex secretly wished he could eat cheese one last time despite the way it had always made him sick when he was alive. She had learned that in the aftermath of their literal magical hug the boys had started getting tired enough to occasionally sleep again and sometimes they didn’t quite phase through things the way they used to and for some reason their poofing had become a touch unreliable.

She was trying to roll with it as much as she could, which was actually a lot given she’d kinda just been rolling with it ever since they appeared in her mom’s studio and turned her life upside down in the best way. But something she hadn’t planned for was illness.

It didn’t make sense, after all. They were ghosts. There was no reason they should get sick, especially given the fact that they weren’t, ya know, real physical entities unless she was touching them. So, it didn’t make sense that they were able to get fevers or sore throats or be congested. She hadn’t planned for it, had written it off as a definite impossibility. Until Reggie half-poofed into her bedroom, flickering in and out slightly so she only caught every other word.

“Julie! ...quick...Luke...not...good...need...help...please!”

And she went immediately, racing down the steps and out the back door to the studio before Reggie had a chance to appear in her bedroom again.

The boys looked absolutely exhausted as she crashed into the studio, Reggie collapsed in one of the chairs breathing heavily and Alex pacing so fast she was sure he was going to wear a groove into the concrete floor. Luke was stretched out along the couch, his face red and sweaty, and he was the only one that looked unhappy at her arrival.

“Julie, thank God,” Alex breathed out, his steps slowing ever so slightly as he made eye contact. “Luke is...sick? Do ghosts get sick? Is that possible? I tried to poof up to you but...it wouldn’t work. Why wouldn’t it work? Reggie said he kept flickering? Did you understand him, or did he just disappear? Oh God, why doesn’t the afterlife come with rule books!?!”

Reggie, bless him, tried to fill in some of the gaps.

“I dunno how much I was actually able to say up there, but something is wrong with Luke. We’re pretty sure he’s sick.”

“Am not!” Luke tried to yell from his spot on the couch, but he barely managed to get the two words out before he was doubled over gasping for air. As if any of them were actually breathing.

“He’s been like this all day.”

It didn’t take a genius or supernatural expert to see that Luke was not his normal bouncy self. Julie approached him slowly, not wanting to make things worse but desperate to affirm for herself that he was still here with her and would be okay at the end of whatever this was. Obviously, none of them actually knew if he would be, but at least if she was touching him, she would have the physical reassurance of his presence. She lowered herself next to his head, resting on her knees beside the couch. He turned glassy eyes her way, groaning and twisting over on his side so he was as curled into her space as he could be while still on the couch.

“Luke...?”

She tried desperately to keep the fear from her voice. The last thing the boys needed was for her to lose it, but she wasn’t sure she managed it. Losing the boys, losing Luke, was her number one fear since she had realized how much they all meant to her. It was a fear that had become even more real when she had watched them be nearly jolted from existence thanks to Caleb, her touch somehow being the one thing that had managed to save them. As if spurred on by that memory, she reached out to let one hand trail across Luke’s forehead and down to rest against his cheek. His skin was like fire beneath her touch.

“You’re burning up. Have you been hot like this all day?”

One side of his mouth tipped up, a half-hearted smirk curving his lips.

“I’m always hot, Jules. Didn’t think you’d ever notice.”

It took everything in her not to roll her eyes. But then Luke gasped and coughed, the sound deep and throaty in a way she hadn’t experienced since the time Carlos got pneumonia when he was little. She fluttered her fingers above him, not sure where her touch would be helpful or comforting. Luke reached up to snag her hands within his own, pulling them close against his chest. Julie tried not to focus on the way his skin seemed to be boiling beneath her.

“That cough doesn’t sound good. Have you taken anything? Ibuprofen, Tylenol, ice cold water??”

She was grasping at straws here. Whatever was going on with Luke was completely out of her wheelhouse, but she would be damned if she let some weak human virus or bacterial infection be his downfall. She had saved him from a goddamn demon’s curse, she could save him from this.

“No, Julie, I’m fine. I swear.”

His promise was cut off by another hacking cough. Julie tried to pull her hands back, if only so that she could use them for something other than just grasping onto Luke’s, but his grip held firm.

“Luke,” she tried again, pushing the tears she felt clogging her throat back, “you’re not fine. Please, I just...I need...there has to be something I can do.”

Their eyes met and held. She watched the way the emotions swimming in the sea of Luke’s gaze shifted and changed. Felt it deep within her soul when he decided to give up the façade and let her in.

“I don’t...it doesn’t feel right, Jules. It’s not like I’m sick, not like...”

Not like when he was human. The words hung unspoken between them. Julie felt her heart dive straight into her toes.

“Can we just...can you just...hold me?”

Luke’s voice came out in broken starts and stops, like the request was being dragged from his bones in a last-ditch attempt at satisfying a final craving before the very end. Julie thought her heart might explode, especially when her eyes searched his face and found nothing but longing and love etched into the pained lines there. It hit her then. He didn’t think this was something survivable. He didn’t think he was going to come back from this. Luke was facing the end, the actual end, and he wanted her at his side and in his arms when he went to meet his maker. The very idea ripped her soul in two.

“No, no, no. No, Luke, no. This isn’t...you’re not...no. You don’t get to do this to me. Not now. Not after...no.”

Julie felt the tears well up and spill over, wet tracks inching down her cheeks in the worst kind of betrayal. Not after everything she had done to save him. Not after she realized she loved him. It wasn’t fair. Luke didn’t get to just leave her like this. She wouldn’t allow it. Luke’s own eyes flooded, the two of them so in tune that when she blinked again her tears traced down her face in the same pattern that his did.

“Julie...please...”

He was pulling on her then, using their conjoined hands and his superior upper body strength to drag her up and onto the couch. Julie did her best to wedge herself into the space beside him, but Luke was having none of that, dropping her hands so he could twist his fingertips into her belt loops and haul her body on top of his. It was the kind of intimate cuddling she had been dreaming about for months, even before she had been able to touch him. Her head was tucked securely beneath his chin, cheek resting above the space his heart had once occupied. His arms were locked around her waist, hands solid and reassuring against the small of her back. She let her hands slip past the worn cotton of his cut-up band tee to rest against his ribs, the tears flowing fast and hot from her eyes to soak the material beneath her head.

She wasn’t sure Luke would even notice the difference. His temperature had to be sky high, every inch of his body where it pressed against hers engulfed in flames. Without realizing it, she began to hum the chorus to Edge of Great. She had been using it recently as a way to hype herself up when she started doubting something, the song never failing to remind her of Luke’s unbreakable belief in her. She felt it when Luke smiled, his head leaning down to rest against her own, voice blending with hers in a perfect harmony.

“We were pretty great, huh?” Luke’s voice was hushed as his lips moved across her scalp. “The band...the boys...us. We went right over the edge together, didn’t we? We’re just one dream, away from who we’re meant to be.”

Julie lost the melody as her quiet cries shifted to sobs. This couldn’t be it. They hadn’t even achieved half of the things they were meant to. Luke’s hum picked up where hers had dropped off, shifting slowly into the bridge of Finally Free.

“You’ll always be a part of me. Now ‘til eternity.”

Luke’s words were quiet and soft, melodic, as if he was still following the lines of the song in his head. There was a kind of peace to them that Julie hadn’t heard before, not since that awful night where he had stood before her and said there was no music without her. Not since the last time he thought she was going to have to watch him die. Not since the last time he had tried to say goodbye.

She couldn’t let him go like this. She had to fight, somehow, some way, to keep him where he belonged, right here next to her. She didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know how to fix it, but she could give him this. She could tell him how much he meant to her. She could hope that it would maybe be enough. Just like last time.

“Luke...I can’t...I’m not...” Her chest constricted, cutting off her words. God, how did it already hurt so much? “I’m not ready to lose you. I can’t lose you. I love you.”

Luke convulsed slightly underneath her, the movement moving from the tip of his head all the way down to his toes. Julie hugged him close, terrified. She wasn’t sure if that type of reaction was a good thing or a bad thing, and she wasn’t fully ready to find out. Beneath her, Luke’s body began to rapidly cool. That had to be a bad sign, right? A fever like that wouldn’t just suddenly break, not unless...not unless...Julie couldn’t even make herself think it. She pulled herself tighter against Luke’s chest, leveraged every inch she could get against him as her hands flexed against his back. A strange noise sounded from deep within his chest.

“Luke? Please, Luke, no. Please don’t leave me.”

Julie clutched herself as close as possible, the feeling of Luke’s arms slackening on her back twisting her stomach. Her sobs were borderline uncontrollable now, breaths coming in painful gasps as she pushed her face deeper and deeper into the fabric of Luke’s shirt. I love you, I love you, I love you. Her mouth formed the words over and over again until she felt them stitch themselves into the lining of her soul.

The noise sounded again, louder this time, directly underneath the spot where her cheek rested against his left pectoral muscle. And then she heard it again, and again, and again, slowly repeating until it picked up a slight rhythm. Slow at first and then explosively fast all the sudden. It sounded...like a heartbeat.

“Luke, oh my God, Luke, please, please, oh my God, please.”

Julie had no idea what she was even pleading for. A sign, a glimmer of hope to hold on to, another miracle that would save the boy she loved and bring him back to her, fully this time. It was too much to ask for, right? Too much to put faith into. The sound, the heartbeat, within Luke’s chest began to echo even louder. Julie forced herself to be brave. Forced herself to lift her head and look at Luke’s face. She told herself she could handle it. She told herself she had to do it.

Luke’s eyes were open above her. He looked just as bewildered as she felt, but his eyes were open and she could see his nostrils flaring as he sucked in a breath, and she felt the lungs in his chest expand beneath her and he was alive. He had to be alive, right? That was the only explanation here.

“Julie...?”

“Are you...?”

“I feel...”

“Alive.”

They said it at the same time, voices blending together the same way they did on stage, perfectly matched as if the universe itself had made it so. Julie pressed one hand against his cheek, his normal temperature cheek, and the other against his chest, directly above his heart. She felt the steady thump of muscle against her palm, felt Luke’s lips stretch into the widest grin she had ever seen. His own arms tightened around her waist again, forcing her to collapse against him as he squeezed. His heartbeat, his heartbeat!, roared strong and steady beneath her. His lips were in her hair, the only part of him that was still hot, moving against her curls in a way she didn’t have to hear to understand. I love you, I love you, I love you. Tying them together, heart to heart, the knowledge of that truth undeniable and overwhelming. He was alive. He was alive. Luke was alive, at her side, alive alive alive.

“Hey guys?”

Reggie’s voice, strained and aching. Julie had forgotten about the other boys completely. She turned her head, new tears overflowing when she caught sight of them. They looked like Luke had when she entered the studio. But instead of feeling scared, an immense wave of relief crashed over her. She could do this. She loved them. She could bring them back. Julie disentangled herself from Luke, crossing the room to pull the other boys close. Luke followed, his arms encompassing hers, Reggie and Alex safe within a never-ending circle of love. They burned hot and quick, fevers rising and crashing in a wave faster than Luke’s, heartbeats returning just as swiftly. They all cried, limbs overlapping in a heap on the floor. And when Julie met Luke’s eyes above the backs of the other boys, a moment passed between them. A moment that promised a lifetime together, every day beginning and ending with love and them.

“Now that we’re alive again, can we please get something to eat?”

Luke pulled Reggie into a noogie, but Julie just laughed, her heart soaring high as she thought about the endless future stretched out in front of them. A lifetime of forevers, starting that very day.

[readyourimgaines]

The Little Things

Summary: Derek knew fully well that moving in with Spencer was going to bring around some changes. Dr. Spencer Reid was different and Derek loved him for it. There were little quirks that the doctor showed at work and some Derek was still learning. So there must be some at home.

And a special thanks, of course, to @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese​ for helping me compile this list!

1. Alphabetizing Movies by Title

“Pretty Boy?” Derek was crouched down in front of their TV looking for their movie while Spencer did the dishes. The latter hadn’t seen Happy Gilmore and Derek couldn’t let that stand. 

“Yeah?” Spencer called from the kitchen. 

“I can’t find it?”

“What?” Spencer stepped away from the sink and went to the living room. Water dripped from his fingertips. “The movies are alphabetical. It’s between Hamlet and Ice Age.” He went to Derek’s side and gestured to the movie. “I was going to order them by director, but Hotch said most people don’t know directors very well. Which is a shame because J.J. Abrams destroyed Star Trek but Guy Riche-” 

Derek pressed a kiss to Spencer’s lips with a fond smile. Spencer blinked. 

“Sorry,” the doctor blushed. 

Derek just chuckled. “You know you’re adorable, right, Pretty Boy?” 

“You may have mentioned it a time or two,” Spencer laughed. 

“You can tell me all about directors later,” Derek promised. “I know a bit about the mainstream guys, but not a whole lot.”

“All you really need to know is that J.J. Abrams kills anything he touches and Peter Jackson doesn’t get as much attention as he should.”

*****

2. Morning Rituals

One thing that Derek very quickly learned about Spencer was that he 

had a specifically timed morning ritual when not on a case. And that if it was broken or disturbed, the whole rest of the day would go down hill like a train on greased tracks. 

He woke up at 6:17, was in the shower by 6:25, eating breakfast by 7:00, his bed made by 7:30, and shoes on his feet by 7:32. The last half hour before they left at 8:00 was free game. 

The first morning in their new place was the roughest. Spencer went 

about his usual morning, but Derek didn’t usually wake up until 7:45 because he took less time to get ready and ate in the car. So when Spencer finished breakfast and went back to their room to make the bed but Derek was still asleep… He paced for the next fifteen minutes and his head nearly went through the ceiling when Derek’s alarm went off. 

Spencer almost had a panic attack as he fumbled his way through making their bed and cramming his feet into his shoes. Needless to say, the extra half hour was spent- in vain- trying to calm the doctor down. None of the rest of the day lined up properly and Spencer was on edge and fidgety. Hotch even had to gently remind him to focus a few more times than the usual redirection of infodumps. 

That was the first and only time Derek didn’t follow Spencer’s morning routine. He found the same day that Spencer had a much simpler night ritual: Snack (sometimes) at 10:10, teeth brushed by 10:25, in bed by 10:35, reading until (supposed to be) 11:18, and then lights out. This routine was much more flexible and relaxed.

Derek found waking up and going to bed at the same time every day made the former much easier. He also found that Spencer reading to him most nights- no matter the book or topic- was very relaxing. And of course there were nights when Derek read to Spencer.

*****

3. Sugary Coffee

Derek took a sip of coffee from his travel cup and whistled. “Think I got yours, Pretty Boy. There’s enough sugar in this to hype up a six year old’s birthday party.” 

Spencer braced himself and took a sip of the coffee in his own cup. He was pleasantly relieved when the bitterly sharp taste expected never came. “I-I put sugar in both of them. I wasn’t thinking,” he said sheepishly. 

Derek shrugged. “You know what they say: I’ll try anything once.” He chuckled. “I’ll just brush my teeth for an extra three minutes.” 

Spencer scoffed as he got into the passenger seat of Derek’s car. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll like it. You don’t get the caffeine drop when the eight hour half-life is over.” 

“Is that why you put so much sugar in coffee?” Derek raised an eyebrow, thinking he already knew the answer. 

“And coffee tastes like battery acid. I’d rather drink vinegar than black coffee.” Spencer shuddered. 

Derek chuckled but didn’t say anything else as he pulled onto the street.

*****

4. Cuddly Sleeper

Even though Spencer wasn’t huge on PDA like Derek was, he sure was a cuddly guy. The second the door closed, he was a six foot koala. That included in bed- but usually not until after he was asleep. 

Some nights, Spencer would fall asleep reading. So Derek would take his book, close it, gently remove Spencer’s glasses, and turn out the lamp. Nine times out of ten, Spencer was curled up against his side before Derek was asleep himself. 

At first, Derek found himself wondering why Spencer wasn’t nestled against him before sleep took him. But after a while, it sunk in that the doctor unwound by reading. 

The look on Spencer’s face when he curled into Derek’s side always sent the older man over the moon. The absolute peace on the doctor’s face. One night, Derek almost woke Spencer up laughing. Derek rolled over to out the lamp and Spencer had gripped Derek’s arm tighter and whined in his sleep. Derek then had to assure his boyfriend- in soft whispers as to not actually wake him up- that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Spencer never thought to question why his book and glasses were gone when he woke up.

*****

5. Leaves Books Everywhere

Anyone who had a 30 second conversation with Spencer- anyone who glanced at Spencer- could tell the man read more than he did anything else. 

Derek picked up the doctor’s satchel once and was moderately surprised the slim man hadn’t dislocated his shoulder with how heavy the bag was. But Spencer didn’t only keep books in his bag. No. They were all over the place. 

Their bedroom, the craft room where Derek made floor plans for his renovations, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room. Even both bathrooms and the basement. 

When the two first moved in together, Derek debated building an extension onto the living room for a library. He still debated it from time to time (just in case). But as time wore on, Derek grew to appreciate the countless (if seemingly random) books around the house. 

Spencer would read when Derek was working on floorplans, so Derek would read when Spencer worked on an academic paper or consult. 

“What’re you reading?” Spencer asked one night, finally looking up from his notebook. He was writing an essay on how handwriting analysis could help catch a serial killer and/or rapist. 

“I don’t even know,” Derek chortled. “Uh..” he looked at the cover, “it’s Introduction to Law by Joanne Banker and Yvonne Ekern.” 

“Oh! Hotch loaned that to me yesterday,” Spencer noted. “I should get that back to him soon.” 

Derek just shook his head. “You know, Pretty Boy, I didn’t read this much in college.”

Spencer smiled. “See? Maybe there’s a good side to not spending thousands of dollars on building a library,” he teased.

6. The Nightlight

In the bedroom, in the outlet closest to the door was a nightlight. But not just any night light. This nightlight made the move in the front pocket of Spencer’s satchel. 

“So what’s the story behind this platypus, Pretty Boy?” Derek had to ask one night as Spencer turned it on. “Because you’ve had this since before we were dating.” 

“My uh- my mom’s went on a sort of field trip with her hospital a couple years ago. It was on one of her good days. She saw this in the aquarium’s gift shop and bought it for me.”

“That’s pretty cute,” Derek encouraged. He knew Spencer didn’t open up about his mom often so Derek tried to learn everything he could about the woman during the rare occurrences. 

“We named him,” Spencer laughed. “Alfred Nicholas Brian Reid.” He giggled. “I just… He helps.”

*****

+1. Bleeding/Infected Hangnails

Spencer usually had something to stim or fidget with. A strip of paper, a pen or pencil to twirl, a shirt with a loose thread, something. On the off chance that he didn’t, the doctor somehow decided that his fingers were good enough. If Spencer didn’t have a hangnail, he’d start one. 

This was the one and only thing about Doctor Spencer Reid that Derek Morgan hated. He could see the minute flinch when Spencer held a utensil wrong and it pressed on the swollen skin. He heard the soft hiss when Spencer got tomato or orange juice in the broken skin. 

What Derek hated even more than that was when the hangnail would get infected. The skin around the nail or turn a greenish-yellow and harden. Which, in turn, gave Spencer another thing to pick at. 

“Pretty Boy, you gotta stop,” Derek sighed. He’d gone into a convenience store to get them something other than coffee- but tastier than water- to drink. While inside, he bought a box of Band-Aids and a tube of anti-bacterial cream. 

Spencer snapped out of his daze. “What?”

“Picking at your nails.” To prove his point, Derek took Spencer’s hand in his to show him, as well as to stop his current picking. “I know you’re worried about the case, Baby, but we’ll catch the son of a bitch and put his ass behind bars like we always do. You gotta stop destroying your hands.”

“I didn’t realize I was,” he admitted. 

“I know,” Derek said softly. He applied the cream and a Band-Aid to each finger that needed it (five in total between both hands). “We just gotta get you a couple of those fidget cubes Garcia has.”

Tag List: @mayonnaiseismycomfortfood​

[rkived]

drabble #4: a look back into pediatricsurgeon!jungkook’s and generalsurgeon!reader’s friendship throughout med school. 

or, what those infamous ‘‘med school vibes’’ are all about. 

(hospitalplaylist!au)

↩ previous | 📍drabbles masterlist | next ↪️

JUNGKOOK’S FIRST YEAR OF MED SCHOOL.

‘‘Okay, let’s begin.’’ 

Taehyung’s face is puffed up, barely awake. Just five minutes ago he was dreaming about being the mayor of Springfield, the fictional town in The Simpsons, and now he’s quizzing his roommate, Jungkook, before his big Pharmacology exam. 

‘‘What’s bioavailability?’’ 

Jungkook hums ‘‘The amount of medication in your blood that’s available to produce an effect.’’ he answers and Taehyung nods, yawning, moving on to the next question.

‘‘What is azithromycin used for?’’

‘‘Viral In─?’’

Taehyung shakes his head no.

‘‘Oh! Bacterial infections!’’ Jungkook corrects himself and receives a nod of approval from his roommate ‘‘Kinda forgot for a second.’’

Taehyung ignores his excuse and continues quizzing him for a few more minutes, the tiredness still evident in his face, but his anxious friend had him slightly worried. 

‘‘Dude, you’re flunking this shit.’’ Taehyung mutters, counting down how many right answers his roommate had gotten ‘‘You only got six out of fifteen questions right.’’

Jungkook mumbles a curse and places his head over his hands. He couldn’t afford to fail this class, Pharmacology was a pain in the ass and he did not want to take it again. 

Taehyung hums as he stares at his nervous friend, his leg bouncing up and down with nervousness. The older friend understood his position, though he didn’t experience much trouble when he took this class two years ago, he had definitely felt pre-exam jitters before. 

‘‘Did you not study or?’’ Taehyung asks him in a gentle tone, not wanting to put him under the spot even more. 

Jungkook sighs and runs his hand through his short hair ‘‘A little, I uh─I was supposed to take a book out from the library to do more research, but a girl from my class wanted it so I gave it to her because━’’

Taehyung’s eyes open wide like saucers and he doesn’t let his younger friend finish his explanation. 

‘‘You gave up a book for a girl? Because she wanted it?’’ 

So long for not wanting to put him under the spot.

Jungkook already felt bad, but the amused tone on Taehyung’s voice made him feel worse. 

He knew it was a dumb decision.  He handed the book over to her a week ago, when he grabbed it and was ready to take it out to study until she popped out of nowhere and asked him if she could have it, pleading eyes and with hands placed together as if she was begging.

And Jungkook was a first year student, he was still slower than his seniors. He was kinda lucky having Taehyung, a third-year student, as his roommate. The more knowledgeable guy had shared with him most of the tips and tricks he needed to know to survive in Med School. 

Though Taehyung was now regretting forgetting to tell him that when it came down to being ‘‘nice’’ to other students, he had to think smartly and be a little selfish. Especially when a big exam was coming up and you weren’t particularly the best student in the class. 

‘‘You’re a dumbass and you’re failing this exam fair and square.’’ 

Jungkook frowns, not appreciating his roommate’s words ‘‘Thanks, I’ll try my best not to.’’ 

With this, he takes his backpack and snatches the papers from Taehyung’s hands. 

---

Which of the following is a short-term side effect of amphetamine?

Constipation

Hair Loss

Suicidal Thoughts

Depression

‘‘Isn’t it all of them?’’ Jungkooks whispers to himself as he reads the options over and over again, getting himself more confused rather than obtaining a clear answer. 

This was a starter question! A basic one, if you may. He knows he’s supposed to be able to answer this without hesitation, but he’s looking at the question as if it was a foreign topic. 

He sighs and decides he’ll come back to it later, maybe the answer will come to him later.

When choosing to supplement, what type of vitamin D do most healthcare professionals prescribe and why?

Cholecalciferol because it cannot cause adverse effects

Vitamin D because there is only one type of supplement available.

Cholecalciferol because it is the naturally occurring form in the body.

None of the answers are correct.

‘‘Fuck, I know this.’’ Jungkook mumbles, hand coming to scratch the side of his head. 

It’s A. 

No, it’s B. 

But what if it’s C? 

It can’t be D, that’s a trick answer and─

‘‘Psst,’’ he hears from behind him, but he’s too deep in thought wondering which option is the right one. ‘‘Pssst,’’ Jungkook’s eyes raise from his paper and into the sea of students taking the exam around him.

Jungkook stares at his Pharmacology professor, sitting on his chair as he tries to stay awake to keep an eye on his 40+ students. The class started at 7 AM and even he hated waking up early.

‘‘Pssssst,’’ he hears again, this time a little more intense and he’s trying his hardest not to turn his head and see where the noise is coming from, fearing he might get mistaken for cheating. 

He decided to ignore the sound and after that, whoever was making the noise, decided to stop as well. 

An hour and a half later, Jungkook was out of the horrible exam and ready to cry it out for a little in his room. He was hoping Taehyung had left for his exams by then. 

If Jungkook could grade his exam he’d give himself a C, nice try kid. 

‘‘Gosh, are you deaf or something?’’ he hears from a voice behind him, turning around to find the girl from the library. The one he had given the Pharma book to, sacrificing himself to please her. ‘‘I was trying to get your attention!’’ she complains and Jungkook’s just staring at her. 

‘‘What?’’ he speaks up, but it comes out as a mere whisper because he’s confused as hell. 

He’s still thinking about the exam and now he has this girl looking at him like he’s a weirdo. 

‘‘I was trying to help you, I saw some of your answers and they were wrong.’’ She explains and his eyebrows raise slightly ‘‘Hair loss is a short-term side effect of amphetamine? Really? That’s basic Pharmaco.’’ 

‘‘What?’’

‘‘And don’t even get me started on your answer for the vitamin D supplement, that was a piece of cake!’’ The girl continues to complain about his wrong answers and Jungkook is left speechless. ‘‘I was gonna give you my answers, which I know are right because I studied, but you never turned around.’’

Jungkook’s brows furrow. 

The reason why he was able to recognize her in the library last week was because she was an avid participant during lectures. Always had something to say, a question to ask, ready to share a random fact that not even the professor knew about. 

Jungkook’s not surprised she didn’t recognize him back then, not even now. He’s the total opposite of her. Never speaks in class, all the questions he wishes he could ask are kept inside his head and he doesn’t know anything about Pharmacology because everything is a big question mark to him.

‘‘You studied because of me.’’ he states and her eyes go wide like saucers.

‘‘Whu─?’’ It seems that the realization doesn’t hit her after her eyes narrow at him and a lightbulb lights up over her head ‘‘Oh! You’re the guy from the library! You gave me the book!’’ 

‘‘Yeah,’’ Jungkook replies bitterly ‘‘so if my answers are wrong, it’s because of you little Ms. Know-It-All.’’ 

He’s had enough of this and he still wants to cry, the added tension of this random girl mocking his failure has become another reason as to why he needs to get to his dorm room immediately. 

But she won’t let up so easily. 

‘‘Wait!’’ she says, grabbing Jungkook’s arm as a way to stop him, but the taller guy yanks her hand away and continues to walk as she trails behind him ‘‘I swear I didn’t know then you were my classmate! I even asked you if you needed the book, you said no.’’ 

That was true, but Jungkook’s a first year student who obviously thinks being nice will get him A’s on his exams. He doesn’t need books. Being nice will get him that degree. 

Jungkook shrugs it off, but she’s relentless and holds onto his backpack straps instead. 

‘‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so bitchy,’’ she apologizes as Jungkook continues to drag her through the building’s hall, hoping she’ll let go of his straps soon. ‘‘I just got frustrated because I really wanted to help you and—Ow!’’ 

Jungkook suddenly stopping makes her collide with his back abruptly, he gasps and quickly turns around to find her massaging her forehead that’s now sporting a red mark from the impact. 

‘‘It’s okay, I deserve it! Karma, right?’’ she chuckles and he sighs. 

‘‘If I forgive you will you leave me alone?’’ 

She frowns with a pout ‘‘No,’’ she states and he groans ‘‘because if you get a low grade, I’ll feel extremely guilty.’’ 

‘‘Then you’ll just have to live with it, I guess.’’ he shrugs. 

Jungkook promises he’s usually not like this. 

She ignores him instead ‘‘If you get a low grade, you can take the exam again! Professor Lee is really nice and understanding—”

“I know nothing about this class.” Jungkook interjects firmly, hoping that it serves as an answer for her.

She hums “I can help you study!” she offers and he looks at her with surprise “Not to brag, but I’m really good at Pharmaco.” she smiles, but it comes off as less than humble to him.

Jungkook would rather flunk this class than have her tutor him. Actually, he rather have Taehyung flick him on the head every time he gives a wrong answer until he gets them right.

She can tell he’s about to say no and so she pleads “Please! Please let me help! It’s the least I can do.” 

Her begging is very reminiscent of the one she did in the library last week. Jungkook had to give it to her, she could throw quite a convincing act.

And free tutoring is a hard offer to come by. One thing that reigned over med students was this superiority complex, the “I’m a better student than you” idea that would blind people into thinking they shouldn’t help their peers. 

So, yes, maybe she was annoying and a little bitchy, but just like Jungkook, she’s just being nice. 

He sighs with defeat “Alright, I’ll take your help.” 

She gasps with surprise and claps her hands with excitement, making the taller guy laugh through his nose. 

“I’ll give you my number! You can call or text me if you need any help.” she quickly adds and it’s not like he can object because she’s already writing her number down on a pink post-it note. 

“Y/N?” he reads the name once she hands the piece of paper over, she smiles and nods. 

“At your service! I’m good with Pharmaco, Biochem, and Pathology!” she informs and he nods slightly “Don’t ask me about microbiology, though, it’s my weak spot.” she shyly admits

His eyes light up at the mention of his favorite course “I love that class!” he comments and you tilt your head to the side, how could he possibly? “If you need help, you can ask me!” 

You both smile at each other, realizing this small deed turned out to be perfect for you both.

—

JUNGKOOK’S THIRD YEAR OF MED SCHOOL.

“Could you like—stop that?” You mumble, pushing Jungkook off of your shoulder as the sleepy guy shuffles in the tiny space of your bed “Jungkook, seriously! We have a test tomorrow, you wanna flunk it?”

He yawns “You’ll help me if I do.” 

“That was a one time thing only,” you narrow your eyes at him “this time it’s not gonna be on me!”

You try to make some sense into your friend, but he’s not bugging at all. Though you try to understand, you’ve been cramming neurology concepts for the past four hours with no breaks in between. 

Sometimes you forget Jungkook’s study method is very different from yours.

“Shhh,” Jungkook hushes you with his eyes closed and a frown in his brows “‘’M trynna sleep.” 

Jungkook falls asleep to the sound of your mumbling complaints about how he’d fail the test and how you’d have to help him like you always do. He smiles to himself because your bed is really comfy and the air freshener that you spray every other hour smells like fresh laundry. 

You stare at him, peacefully snoring into your pillow, mouth slightly open as he breathes in and out. You should be angry, he was the one who proposed studying together after all.

But all you do is cover him with your favorite fuzzy blanket and pat his shoulder before you go back to the lessons in your book.

The silence is comfortable. It helps you study better and it gives him peace as he dreams of whatever. It’s always like this for you two.

—

JUNGKOOK’S FIFTH YEAR OF MED SCHOOL.

The packed boxes and bags placed on Taehyung’s bed throw Jungkook off because it finally hits him that, after five years of rooming with the older friend, he’d have to find a new roommate.

He enters a frenzied state of questions in his head.

Is my new roommate going to be messy?

Is my new roommate going to listen to music so loud I won’t be able to sleep?

Will my new roommate hate video games and won’t let me play my FPSGs? 

Jungkook hadn’t realized how well of a dynamic he and Taehyung shared until today. Always thought that they kept rooming because they were friends and not because they actually were able to coexist with each other.

And now that Taehyung’s graduating, Jungkook is left to wonder what will happen next.

He was in that state of mind all day long. 

When he watched his soon-to-be ex roommate pack his belongings in boxes that were divided by categories. As he sat in the crowd of attendees for that semester’s graduates, Taehyung in between the handful of fresh new M.Ds. And now, as his fellow group of friends were singing their drunk asses off into the microphone of the karaoke room they had rented for the night.

Jungkook doesn’t know what song Taehyung and Namjoon are singing, but it’s definitely one that came out when he was just a baby. 

“You know you look really funny when you space out, right?” 

He blinks and you’re sitting next to him, giving him a raised brow as you wait for him to answer. 

Jungkook’s been told this multiple times, mostly by you. His doe eyes go wide, mouth shut into a line as he just stares into space and even he would like to know what it is that goes through his head during those moments, he always seems to forget when he comes back to reality.

“I’m so glad those two decided to become doctors instead of singers.” you joke, looking over at the two friends who were trying, but failing, at reaching a high note. 

He doesn’t laugh, though. 

“Are you okay?” you carefully ask, noticing his unusual behavior. Jungkook was…a special kid, for the most part. But you weren’t used to looking at him this quiet and so out of place. “Should I worry?” 

Jungkook shakes his head no and sighs, realizing his mood is changing yours as well and this is supposed to be a happy occasion, because Taehyung just graduated and he should be excited for his friend.

“Ahhh, I see,” you say with a nod, realization hitting you “you’re sad ‘cause Taehyungie is leaving, right?”.

“No.” Jungkook mumbles, hoping that it was convincing enough for you to buy, but he knows that you rarely ever let up.

You smile, finding it endearing how he’s embarrassed to admit that it does hurt. You’ve been there before when Namjoon graduated two years ago and you were a sobbing mess because it felt as if your older brother was leaving and never coming back. 

It sucked that Jungkook and you were the youngest ones in the friend group. You didn’t get to interact much with the older friends due to how ahead they were of you both, but they served as good mentors as you and he made your way along Med School.

“If it makes you feel better, you still have me.” you say with a smile and a squeeze to his shoulder, Jungkook stares back at you with an expression you can’t quite pinpoint “Only two more years.”

Saying it out loud feels unreal. He actually has stuck it out for that long. And as he stares at you giggling about your drunken singing friends, Jungkook realizes he hasn’t been alone during this journey.

You have to pretend his unwavering eyes are not making you feel under pressure.

—

JUNGKOOK’S SEVENTH AND FINAL YEAR IN MED SCHOOL.

“If you don’t tell her now, you probably never will!”

Jungkook gulps as he fixes his robe in front of the mirror. Taehyung is behind him, glaring at him with so much force that the soon-to-be graduate feels like he has to hide.

“Why would I tell her?” Jungkook mumbles “It’s just a silly crush, that’s it.” 

And it’s true, just a silly crush! One that he had been hiding for the last couple of years until a few weeks ago, when his friends took him out drinking, between drunken words he had confessed to his older friends the feelings he had been harbouring for you. 

“We know.” they all said in unison

And ever since then, they —especially Taehyung— had been pushing him into coming clean to you. With graduation happening today, it felt like it was Jungkook’s last chance to tell you before it was too late. 

He knows where you’re going to specialize after this and he knows he won’t see you for a couple of years and vice versa.

Jungkook will be able to go on about his life and get over whatever he’s feeling for you and that gives the opportunity for you to continue ahead with the idea that he’s your best friend and that he’s never felt anything for you. 

“Because maybe she feels the same way!” Taehyung argues and by the look on his face, it’s clear that he’s frustrated with his youngest friend “Like, y’know how Y/N is super smart, right?” He asks and Jungkook nods “Well, every time she’s around you she goes dumb! That’s the love effect.” 

Jungkook chuckles at his friend’s comment. The idea of you liking him back is actually sweet, makes his heart beat a little faster. But it’s just that, a mere thought. 

Because in reality, you’re always smart and never dumb enough to like him back.

He has a front row seat as you receive your diploma, the biggest smile on your face as you pose for the cameras and thank your adviser. Spotting Jungkook in the crowd as he claps excitedly for you, you send a wink his way, making his heart flutter in the process. 

And he feels like he should tell you. What’s the worst that could happen? 

Losing his dignity? He lost it years ago.

Rejection? He can handle it, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Congrats, grad!” you say with excitement, after finding each other in the crowd of families and graduates “We did it!” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook chuckles, his heart is full of endearment as he watches you bounce with excitement in your heels “we made it, barely.” 

His heart is yelling at him to just do it now. He won’t have time later, what with your family wanting to take you out to celebrate and maybe his group of friends suggesting the usual post-grad Karaoke night. This is probably the last time Jungkook will be able to have you alone. 

In the corner of his eye he’s able to spot Taehyung, he’s far away but it’s clear that he’s dramatically mouthing TELL HER NOW! Seokjin, Namjoon and Yoongi are behind him, tugging at his suit’s sleeves so they’re able to drag him out of sight. 

“Hey, so…” Jungkook doesn’t mean for his voice to come out so shaky and you look at him with glowing eyes, excitement still bubbling in you “Uhm—“ 

Say it, you idiot. Just say it.

“Where are you going out to eat?” 

Fuck.

You chuckle as you tell him they’ll probably take you to some BBQ place and suggest if he would like to come. Jungkook quickly denies the offer and a few seconds later, you’re telling him that you should go and find your family.

Not before giving him a big hug and a kiss to his cheek, a friendly one “Don’t get too drunk tonight!” 

Oh, yeah... 

The worst thing that could happen if he tells you how he feels is that he’ll ruin your friendship. No biggie, right?

And you’ve been there for far too long, have put up with him through all his shenanigans, been too nice to him and he won’t fuck all of that up just because of a silly crush. 

Jungkook’s left to watch as you hurriedly spot your family, jumping with excitement into your father’s arms. The next second Taehyung is pulling at his ear, scolding him because he knows the graduate didn’t confess. 

He’s calling his older friends for help, but they let Taehyung have this, just this once. 

a/n: hello!! i decided to write this bc for the past drabbles the ‘‘med school vibes’’ have been mentioned n here’s a backstory to jk n reader’s friendship back then. i think this is a lil too long to be considered a drabble but wtvr. i did research those pharmaco questions n verified with my med student friends to fact check them lol hope all is well <3

[themculibrary]

Fics With Morgan Stark Masterlist

Links Last Checked: March 4th, 2024

Adventures in Babysitting (ao3) - Victori T, 16k

Summary: Peter offers to watch five-year-old Maria Stark so Tony can get out of the house. Things don’t exactly go as planned, Tony’s kids nearly give him an aneurysm, and Pepper just wants a relaxing night out.

And I am Morgan Stark (fanfiction.net) - KuroiKoumori M, 7k

Summary: Haunted by the memories of her deceased father, Morgan Stark travels back in time to see him once again. Wanting to get to know him better, she travels to the time before Tony Stark became Iron man. To her surprise, he was not exactly the way she remembered him to be. (Incest Warning) Spoiler Alert! If you haven't seen Endgame yet and don't want to be spoiled, do not read.

eighty per cent (ao3) - whowhotellsyourstory pepper/tony T, 8k

Summary: "You ever need help, and I'm not there-"

"Why wouldn't you be there?"

"You call Uncle Steve."

_

Morgan tried to sort out step one. What the hell was step two?

forty miles (ao3) - peterstank pepper/tony T, 4k

Summary: “I love you,” Peter says. “Father-son styles.”

Or: the one where Morgan is sick and Tony is in way over his head, so he calls his spiderson for a little bit of help.

In Case of Emergency (ao3) - Bowtiez pepper/tony G, 6k

Summary: Babysitting his little sister at the Stark’s lakeside cabin seems like quite the gig for 17-year-old Peter. Of course he’s got that covered- he’s a mature individual and he can watch over a five-year-old for forty-eight hours.

On a totally unrelated note, did anyone know that super-healing doesn’t really work on bacterial infections? It’s a good thing Morgan knows what to do. Well… it’s probably a good thing?

Inevitable (ao3) - imgoingtocrash pepper/tony G, 11k

Summary: Morgan Stark appears in the Stark Industries atrium in the year 2006. Tony and Pepper attempt to get their future daughter back home while dealing with the implications that her existence has for their relationship.

Morgan H. Stark (ao3) - MyShipsinStormySeas pepper/tony T, 2k

Summary: For Tony E. Stark, Morgan H. Stark changes everything. Tony, Pepper, and Morgan over those five years. Written for Pepperony Week Day 4

Moving Forward (ao3) - ANQTNL2020 pepper/tony, happy/pepper T, 22k

Summary: “It was some cruel twist of fate that they would make the decision to try for a second child a mere two weeks before Tony was taken from them.”

A few months after his death, Pepper decides to follow through with her and Tony’s second child back-up plan.

Never Gonna Let You Down (ao3) -  Emily_F6 T, 5k

Summary: When Peter agrees to watch Morgan for a week while her parents go on vacation, he’s determined not to let Mr. Stark down. Unfortunately for him, just because he’s Spiderman doesn’t mean he’s immune to the flu.

Second Chance (fanfiction.net) - SelenitaLunar reviews pepper/tony G, 21k

Summary: Tony Starks gets to live his life as Pepper Potts husband and Morgan Stark's dad, with a happy ending.

Spreading a Bit of Love (fanfiction.net) - seeingthoughtsthroughwords pepper/tony G, 5k

Summary: The elevator dinged and open. And Tony instantly recognized this department. Kids Department. "Welcome to the kids hospital," Peter smiled, stepping out and tugging at Mister Stark's jacket. "Come on, we don't have all day." (In which, Peter has blossomed something in Mister Stark's heart. And Tony realizes what he wants in the future. That including Peter and perhaps someone else)

Tell Me About Her (ao3) - BrownCat13 pepper/tony N/R, 1k

Summary: Post A4 - the timeline is reset and they've defeated Thanos, but it cost Pepper's life. Tony is working on finding a way to bring her back, but someone has a few too many questions about their mother... Dad Tony sad fluff something or other. One shot.

the last five years (ao3) - tonystarktrash pepper/tony M, 87k

Summary: “Oh, Tony,” Pepper murmurs, cupping his face in her hands. She always knew what to do, had known him for so long that all of his idiosyncrasies were second nature to her. After New York, when his nightmares had woken her with terrible screams, she had learned when to touch him and when to comfort him with only words. He’s so starved for her touch, he wonders if he’s giving off some sort of signal to her, like a neon sign. Touch me, Pepper. Touch me, and help me survive, help me come to terms with this.

filling in tony and pepper's five years of bliss in avengers:endgame.

Tony Stark Googled The Thing (ao3) - mybrotherharry pepper/tony G, 5k

Summary: When Morgan is six months old, Pepper goes back to work and Tony takes over as stay-at-home dad. Discovering the mommyblogosphere is the inevitable next step.

Why Don't We Just Dance (ao3) - flyingorfalling pepper/tony T, 11k

Summary: Ever since the day she was born, Tony has been dreading the moment his daughter will be old enough to date. So when Morgan finally announces that she'll be going to the homecoming dance with a boy, Tony's attempt to distract himself from his emotional turmoil turns the evening into a magical night for everyone, especially Pepper.

[tangled23works]

No Time To Die

This is my entry for Olicity clue by @olicitytropes. I hope you can guess the prompts I was given even though I ran away with them as usual.

Felicity Smoak was accustomed to walking home in the dead of night. Her small townhome was on the outskirts of the Glades, the city’s most disreputable area. Usually she could drive her Mini to and from Queen Consolidated, but last month they had caught her speeding for the third time and taken her licence away. Now, she was forced to take the bus every day. At first it had been weird and scary for a woman who loved driving but after awhile she had gotten used to it.

Thankfully, the bustop was not far and on the way, there was a very famous strip club which had bouncers built like tanks in front. She felt safe walking by the Huntress because she knew that if she needed help she could always run towards it. Helena Bertinelli, the owner of the club, was a bitch and crazier than a bag of cats but everyone said that she was a passionate defender of women’s rights. Helena reserved all her wrath for men. Specifically, the Italian mobsters who had killed her fiance a few years before.

Felicity turned left on the corner and reached inside her bag for the pepper spray. This street was not well-lit so she had to be extra careful. She walked slowly but with purpose and kept her head on a swivel. That one was Roy’s suggestion and when she had admitted that she had no clue what it meant, he had alternated between genuine surprise at her lack of sports knowledge and scolding for losing her driving licence. Since Roy was the most street savvy person she knew, she had chosen not to antagonize him and follow his advice.

Walking by the huge dumpster, Felicity heard a grunt and a groan. Probably some poor animal suffering. Roy had warned her about stopping in the Glades so she took a deep breath and decided to ignore it. The grunt was louder the next time. Her curiosity got the better of her and she approached it carefully.

A leg became slowly visible. A long leg dressed in very distinctive green leather trousers. She blinked but the strange sight didn’t go away.

Felicity tilted her head and examined him. Lying on the trash, out cold but still breathing judging by the rise and fall of his chest, was Starling City’s resident vigilante. Her mind blanked for a few seconds. Then she pulled her phone out before she could second-guess herself.

“What’s up, Blondie?”

Roy’s voice was calm even though she interrupted his date night with Thea. She didn’t want to ruin that but she had no one else to call. And certainly, no one else who she could trust with a secret like this.

“Hi Scarecrow. Are you with Thea?”

“Yes.”

“Can you get out for a few minutes? I need help carrying something to my house.”

“Blondie, if it’s another Robin Hood framed poster you should know that-”

“Oh no, it’s nothing like that. Please, come. And Roy? Don’t tell Thea where you’re going.”

“Are you in trouble, Blondie?”

“Sort of. I’ll explain everything as soon as you’re here.”

“Where exactly is here?”

“On 7th. Behind the Huntress. Hurry!”

Roy let out a filthy curse commenting on her tendency to get into trouble and hung up without saying goodbye.

Felicity didn’t have to wait long - thankfully Roy and Thea were hanging out at his place tonight - before he showed up. She had stood still as a statue, guarding him, armed with pepper spray and determination. 

When Roy saw who was on the ground behind her, his eyes widened like saucers reminding her of a cartoon.

“Are you crazy?” he asked in a furious whisper.

“Perhaps. Can you help me move him to my house? It’s not far.”

“I should call the police right now. This guy is crazy, Blondie.”

“No, he isn’t.” She didn’t know why she felt so strongly about the subject.

“He has killed a lot of people. Lance is searching for him everywhere and you want to, what? Live a Robin Hood fantasy with him?”

Felicity narrowed her eyes. For the first time she wondered if trusting Roy had been a good idea.

“People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That when I started hanging out with you, everyone told me that you were a thief and a junkie. I gave you the benefit of the doubt and now you and Thea are my friends. You’re the only family I’ve got in Starling. Which would have never happened if I had heeded all these warnings. Doesn’t he deserve the same consideration?”

“Fine. Save me the guilt trip. But if Lance knocks on my door tomorrow with a warrant, I’m not covering for you.”

“Deal,” she beamed at him.

There was one slight problem with the plan. Lifting and carrying a 6'1", 180 lbs guy was easier said than done. In the end they decided to carry him standing up as if he were drunk which wouldn’t bring much attention in this neighborhood.

“Wow, he’s really heavy. Do you think it’s all muscles?”

“Somehow, I don’t think vigilantes come with beer bellies,” Roy panted.

The distance they had to cover was minimal all things considered but it seemed like an eternity to her. Roy didn’t say much, just carried the burden silently which made her regret the fact that she had cancelled her own gym subscription last month. By the time they reached the townhouse, they were both sweaty and exhausted. Felicity had trouble putting one foot in front of the other and had to promise herself two pints of chocolate mint chip as motivation.

Roy had to support the vigilante by himself until she could find her keys, a fact he did not appreciate, judging by his surly expression. Felicity unlocked the door quickly and helped him carry the man inside. 

“Do you think your neighbors saw us, Blondie?”

She shook her head and threw her bag on the floor. “No way. It’s too late. The only one who cares about my comings and goings is Mrs Fernandez but she is asleep at this hour.”

She took off her heels and focused on the unconscious man who was now dripping blood on her teal couch.

“Is he shot?” she asked Roy.

Roy examined him closely. “Nope. There’s a long gash on his right thigh, however.”

“Like from a sword?” She was equally fascinated and horrified. Lowly IT experts did not lead exciting lives. Her boring night had turned into an adventure.

“Who knows? You can ask him when he comes to.”

Felicity agreed. She fervently hoped she would get the chance to have a discussion with the man, crazy as it might sound.

“Don’t worry. It’s not his time to die.” He got up and considered her. “We’ll need some kind of medkit if we hope to take care of this ourselves.”

“It’s in the upstairs bathroom.”

“I’ll bring it. And all the other necessary items. In the meantime, you should take off his clothes so that we can see the damage.”

Felicity was tempted to peek under the hood. 

“Leave the hood on,” Roy warned. “This is one secret you don’t want to learn.”

She considered it for a moment. Mysteries were the worst. They really bugged her and usually served no purpose but to annoy people. On the other hand, this man’s identity was dangerous. She might be a bit reckless but she wasn’t crazy. She had no intention of becoming prime target for all of this guy’s enemies. 

She hurried to his side and put a hand on his neck. His pulse was sluggish but it was definitely there. Relieved, she began the process of undressing him. She unzipped the jacket and lifted up his T-shirt to assess the possible damage. His chest was lean but muscular, covered in recent bruises and old scars. Some of his ribs could be cracked or broken but without an MRI machine there was simply no way of knowing. Surprisingly, he had several tattoos but his chest was otherwise smooth. No sign of hair anywhere. She was momentarily riveted by the sight of an honest to God eight pack but she pushed the shirt down and covered him again before she could do something crazy. Like lick him. Right there on each one of his delicious muscles which up until now she had never seen on a living human being.

Felicity shook her head and tried to concentrate. The blood seemed to be coming from his leg like Roy had said and it looked quite fresh. Carefully, she unzipped him and drew the leather trousers down his legs. She had to take his boots off first though. He remained eerily silent, a fact which both relieved and worried her. Underneath he wore black briefs and she couldn’t help but notice that he was beautiful even there. Thick and long by her estimate.

“His wound is several inches to the right.”

Felicity blushed to the roots of her dyed blonde hair. She chose not to respond to Roy’s mocking comment and focused on the task at hand.

“You were right. There is a long gash here. It’s still bleeding.”

“I’ll clean up the wound and sew his leg. I sterilized the equipment as much as I could but considering the circumstances, I think this guy would prefer a little bacterial infection than going to the doctor.”

“I’m guessing the words hospital and police aren’t his favorite.”

Roy smiled at that and did a thorough cleaning of the wound. By then Felicity was ready to gag. It only got worse when he grabbed the needle and thread.

“Step aside, Blondie. You can clean him using the cloth after I’m done.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m not a fan of pointy things.”

“You should have let him die then.”

She walked to the other side of the living room towards the kitchen.

“Why did you save him?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“Shouldn’t you be more careful? After all, you’re piercing his skin with a needle right now.”

Roy saw through her evasion tactic. It was obvious from the way he clenched his jaw to avoid asking more questions. She wanted to answer him but she couldn’t. The truth was that she didn’t even know herself.

Why had she saved him? Well, obviously she couldn’t leave a defenseless man lying on trash dying slowly on the street. It went against every instinct. But bringing him into her house? That was so not like her. A long time ago she had been impulsive and careless but she had paid for it dearly. This was the first rash decision she had made in years. Felicity took a deep breath and pushed down the memories when they tried to raise ugly their head. Thinking about Cooper wouldn’t help the angry man on her couch.

Anger was the only emotion that he was willing to show. People had described their interactions with him again and again. Those descriptions varied so much that it was as if they were talking about a different guy. But all witnesses had agreed on one thing. This man was furious. Thankfully, he only took it out on thieves, rapists and gang members. Was anger though his only reason? She stared at him trying to discern the man behind the mask. 

Roy got up, looking quite pleased with himself. “I did a good job. Your vigilante is gonna live,” he announced.

“He’s not my vigilante, Scarecrow. Go wash up. I’ll clean your patient and take care of him.”

Roy climbed the stairs. “If he wakes up, call me. I need to speak to Thea.”

Felicity sighed at his overprotective tendencies. She took the wet cloth and approached the couch. The Hood, as they called him, had a commanding presence for a knocked out man.

She kneeled on the floor and started cleaning him softly. Considering this man’s life choices could give a girl a headache. Was he completely mad? Did he suffer from some type of mental illness? What kind of sane person roamed the streets at night saving strangers? Life was not a comic book. The Glades were scary and dangerous and despite her earlier bravado, she knew that she had been really lucky tonight.

Her hand moved almost without thought towards his face. She couldn’t see much except for a strong jaw covered in stubble, a pair of juicy lips and a cute mole that didn’t seem to belong on such a masculine face. The mystery was killing her. Surely, he wouldn’t mind if she took a peek? She had saved his life for Google’s sake.

Her hand reached the hood.

She touched the soft green fabric - so different from the rest of his suit - and was about to push it back when his hand grabbed her wrist in a viselike grip.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Felicity froze like a little girl with the hand in the cookie jar.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Ever since your friend tortured me with the needle.”

Felicity felt outraged on behalf of Roy. “You could try to be a little more grateful. He saved your life.”

“You saved my life,” he rasped, “he was bitching and moaning every step of the way.”

She chuckled despite herself.

“Where am I?”

“My place. I live near the strip club.”

His hand clenched on her wrist. “It’s not a good neighborhood for you.”

She dropped the cloth in a small basin. “That’s the best I can do.”

“Doesn’t QC pay you better than that?”

Felicity’s heart raced. “How do you know where I work?”

He pointed towards her chest. “Your IT badge. I can’t see the name but I know the company logo.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m just an IT expert. Mostly, I clean computers infested with porn and fix executives’ emails accounts. I wanted the Applied Sciences position that opened up last summer but I lacked one major qualification so I didn’t get it.”

“What did you lack?”

“A dick and balls.”

At her dry retort, he started making a really weird sound. It was almost like wheezing. To her surprise, she realized that she had made the vigilante laugh.

“That doesn’t sound good,” she told him.

“It’s your fault. You’re not supposed to laugh with cracked ribs.”

Felicity winced. He was still holding her hand but she didn’t try to take it back.

“Were you really slashed with a sword?”

“And where would I find a sword in the middle of the Glades?”

“I don’t know Mr. Arrow. Up until last summer you couldn’t find a bow in Starling unless you belonged to an archery club.”

“Touche.”

His voice was familiar. Actually, she couldn’t recognize it because he made sure to speak in a low whisper. But there was something about the way he spoke the words themselves that sounded familiar to her. She tried to see under the hood but it was impossible. The only discernible thing was his lush mouth and that sinful mole.

“I was shot by a lady with a crossbow.”

His words brought her back from daydreaming about his mouth.

“You’re joking!”

“Do I look like a man who jokes?”

“You look like a man who likes to spend his nights dressing in leather and tying people up,” she retorted.

He laughed. Again. Felicity wanted to pump a fist in victory. She got the feeling that he wasn’t a man who laughed often.

“Where is your friend?”

“He went upstairs to clean up and call his girlfriend. He left her rather abruptly to come and save your ungrateful butt.”

His gloved hand was still holding hers, only now he was caressing her absentmindedly.

“My butt is very grateful. Still I would like to leave before he returns. Can you help me dress?”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Roy was raised in the Glades. He’s not going to rat you out. You can stay here until morning.”

He appeared thoughtful for a few moments. “Very well. But it would be best not to tell him I’m awake when he comes back.” 

He released her hand, promptly closed his eyes and appeared unconscious for all intents and purposes. Felicity was about to check his pulse when she realized the reason for subterfuge. Roy was coming down the stairs.

“Is he awake, Blondie?”

“Nope. You can go back to Thea. I don’t think he’s going to wake up anytime soon.”

“No way. I’m not leaving you alone with this lunatic.”

Her vigilante had tensed since the moment Roy approached but now he managed to radiate anger even as still as he was. Felicity put a hand on his uninjured leg.

“I don’t believe he’s crazy, Roy.”

“Then?”

“He’s a man of strong convictions. I imagine there must be something powerful behind his decision to go out at night and hunt criminals.”

Roy stared at her as if she had lost her mind.

“Don’t worry, Scarecrow. I do not approve of his methods. I only said I understand him a little.”

“You’re scaring me, Blondie. I think you better go and lie down. It’s after 10 and you have to work tomorrow.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving him. I’ll put on my pyjamas and lie on the chair. I spend most of my nights on that thing anyway.”

Roy was about to argue when his cell phone rang. He picked up. Pacing back and forth, he whispered furiously for awhile. Apparently, the news was bad.

“Thea got herself into trouble. What is it with the women in my life tonight? Is it a full moon or something?”

“Is she ok?”

“Yeah. She had a car accident going home. I told her not to drive her brother’s Porsche but she never listens.”

Felicity looked frantically for her phone. “Is she hurt? I need to call her now!”

“Don’t call her. She’s just scared because when Moira hears about it, she’s gonna be grounded for a year. She’s not hurt but the car is busted.”

“Can you wait until I change? Then you can leave.”

Roy waited patiently while she washed herself in the sink and changed into clean pyjamas. This night was by far the weirdest in her life and it was not over yet. She hurried downstairs fearing that Roy would discover her vigilante was awake. The panic she felt at the thought of betraying his trust should have scared her. Instead it made her feel alive for the first time in years.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok, Blondie?”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Go get your girl, Scarecrow. Keep me updated.”

He left with a final order, “Keep your phone with you at all times”.

She resisted rolling her eyes again. Going closer to the actual superhero in her living room, she fake-whispered, “He left. You can quit the acting now.”

He opened his eyes and since the hood was now pushed back she finally got the chance to see his eyes. His gorgeous cerulean blue eyes. Life was so unfair sometimes.

“Is Thea Queen ok?”

His question was surprising. According to the media, the vigilante was not a fan of the city’s one percent.

“She had an accident but she’s not injured. Her brother’s car is totaled though.”

He looked like he was about to comment on that before he reconsidered.

“I thought you didn’t like Starling’s rich and famous?”

“Innocent teenage girls aren’t my enemy.” His voice was still low but his tone was hard.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity said. She felt horrible and was about to apologize further when he stopped her.

“It’s fine.”

She looked around, feeling lost. “Can I get you anything?”

“Since I’m about to spend the night, can I have blanket?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You’re lying half-naked on my couch and I didn’t even think you might be cold.”

“I spent a lot of time in Russia. Trust me, I’m not cold.”

Startled by the insight into his personal history, she threw him one of her favorite purple blankets and curled up in her chair. 

“Really? I’ve never been abroad. What is Russia like?”

He spread the blanket over himself carefully. His movements were good but if Felicity had to guess, she would say that the ribs were giving him trouble. Not that he would ever admit it. Stupid male pride.

“It’s an unwelcoming place. Hard and violent. At least it was for me. I wasn’t there for the sights.”

“What were you there for?”

“Training.” He paused and then whispered reluctantly, “with the Bratva”.

Felicity’s mind raced. “The Russian mob?” she squeaked.

“Yeah.” But he didn’t volunteer any other information and she didn’t want to pressure him. 

“Do you believe in God?” she asked out of the blue.

“I suppose. Why?”

“Bethany Snow says that you’re playing god. Judge, jury and executioner.”

“Bethany Snow,” he spat the name, “doesn’t understand the fact that the world is a complicated place. There are people who deal only in extremes. It’s naive to think that anything other than extreme measures is going to stop them.”

“Your world must be really different than mine.”

“I live in that world so that people like you don’t have to,” he countered.

Felicity closed her eyes. The adrenaline rush was wearing off and she was starting to feel the effects of the eventful day. She wasn’t going to sleep of course. Just rest for a minute or two.

“I feel safer with you here.”

“In your house?” He sounded really surprised by the admission.

“In my city,” she mumbled, eyes shut.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you, Felicity.”

 She smiled at his promise and nodded off.

The dawn light was peeking through the window when she opened her eyes next. Her phone was ringing but it wasn’t the alarm clock. She didn’t awake gradually, hitting the snooze button like any other day. Instead she rolled off the chair and her gaze flew to the couch. 

Nothing. 

The blanket was folded and placed away with care. There was no sign of her unexpected guest. Except for the blood that still covered the couch. He hadn’t been able to erase that at least. 

Felicity rubbed her tired eyes and tried to make sense of the events of last night. When she couldn’t, she headed towards the kitchen to make a pot of really strong black coffee. She fired a quick message to Roy promising that she was fine and vigilantless when it suddenly hit her.

Roy had never uttered her real name and she certainly hadn’t introduced herself.

However, he had called her Felicity. 

The Hood knew who she was.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Undercover Lover prt 10

10

Hannes wasn’t as Levi expected. Much older than Eren, the man seemed like a father figure to the now mostly unconscious Eren in the front of Levi’s car. Calling the number listed online for him, he’d had to start snapping at the receptionist before she’d take him seriously and put him through to Hannes. In his mind he didn’t quite sure what he’d conjured up about the man’s possible appearance, yet it wasn’t greying blond hair with a thin moustache, and the kind of aura you’d find radiating off the local drunk. Explaining he was in the car park with Eren Kruger, and giving a basic symptom rundown, Hannes seemed to have dropped everything to come to them, huffing and red faced as he gripped his chest.

Standing by the passenger door, Levi itched to do something. He’d held back smoking, as it seemed rude to smoke while Eren sat slumped in the seat beside him

“Levi... I assume... I’m Hannes...”

Hannes didn’t hold his hand out, Levi hadn’t wanted to shake it anyway

“He didn’t want to go to hospital. He’s been denying he’s sick”

Hannes nodded, squatting down to start examining Eren. Levi cringing in sympathy over the way Hannes’s knees cracked

“I did see him the other day. I have a fair idea what this is. He was supposed to come back and see me. You said he’s been vomiting?”

“Blood nose. Dizziness. Vomiting. Fever”

“Right. Help me get him up. Stupid damn fool. Always been a headstrong idiot”

So Hannes had known Eren for some time. Levi didn’t want to admit his alpha felt a little insulted. He nearly growled when Hannes helped him manoeuvre Eren out of the car to be supported by the two of them. He shouldn’t pry...

“You’ve known him for a while?”

“You could say that. You work for Rod?”

“Yeah. That’s how I know him”

“Ah! You must be the new hire. He mentioned he might have made a new friend. He could use a friend or two these days”

Levi’s heart went funny. The weird beat hard as his alpha puffed itself up with pride at being mentioned

“He mentioned me?”

“In passing. He mentioned it was nice not to be the newbie anymore”

Oh... was that all? Levi didn’t really want to talk about it anymore. Eren called him a friend, but he was hardly winning any awards. The brat probably trying to be polite

“Someone’s gotta be saddled with the shitty jobs. Where are we taking him?”

“I left the wheelchair at the door. I’ll take him through once we get there”

With Eren wheeled away from him, Levi was left in the emergency department. Hannes might be his... primary physician? but the man had no sway in the ED. Wearing a mask, like everyone else waiting, Levi supposed it was best they all were given he could smell the anger rolling off him at the situation. Masks were mandatory seeing so many people passed through and not everyone used products to cancel their scent. He’d been in too many emergency departments, seen too many shitty things. The place always bring up bad memories he wished time would hurry up and eradicate from his mind. The sooner Hannes came back to him, the better he’d feel about the situation. Erwin still hadn’t messaged him back, Levi staring at the phone screen half hoping he wouldn’t. He should have trusted Eren to tell him in his own time...

Left in the waiting room until his phone was barely hanging on at 3 percent, Hannes finally came out through the door seperate by the emergency department from the waiting room. The man scrubbing his face tiredly. Levi jumping to his feet, before correcting himself, trying not to look too worried for a man he barely knew. The last time he’d been this worried and worked up was when Farlan and Isabel had rolled their piece of shit car just after Isabel got her licence

“How is he?”

Sighing heavily, Hannes rubbed his face again. Levi semi wanting to shake him for sighing and not answering immediately. Obviously the man cared a lot for Eren

“He’ll be out this afternoon. Refuses to take time off work...”

That was fine and all, but that didn’t tell him what was wrong with Eren

“And?! He’s been sick for weeks”

Hannes chuckled. Levi supposed he had sounded a little whiny

“He’ll be fine. A bacterial infection, nothing antibiotics won’t knock on the head. We’ll monitor him for a few hours and if he’s doing better, he’ll be released. He’s been avoiding come back in since his medical. Now, do you have a few moments? I’d like to ask you more about how Eren is doing these days”

Unable to cast a glance back past Hannes without either leaning sideways or standing tip toe, Levi guessed he wouldn’t be seeing Eren again for the day

“I... don’t know if should”

“Humour an old man? I’ve known Eren since he was born, but he doesn’t open up much. Won’t talk about work or what he’s gotten himself into now”

Levi didn’t want to invade Eren’s privacy, buuuuut, he also wanted to know more about him, and not just what Erwin found out

“I suppose I can spare a little more time”

“Excellent. I had assumed you’d be the one taking Eren home, but not to worry. Thankfully I had a mostly clear schedule this afternoon, I’ll show you through to my office”

Great. He didn’t mind taking Eren home. Eren would probably protest and snark. At least the infection had been found and he’d be treated for it... Provided the kid could look after himself enough to take the shitty medication prescribed.

“Lead the way”

*

Hannes’s office suit was modest. A few drooping plants sat between blue waiting chairs. The walls decorated with outdated inspirational quotes. Waving at his rising receptionist, the woman dropped back down as Levi trailed after Hannes

“Just through here, it’s a bit of a walk. No one practices out of hospitals these days like they used to”

The alpha had no response for that. He had the feeling Hannes wasn’t an ordinary GP, which was confirmed when he stepped into the examination room and was confronted with all sorts of posters about beta dynamics

“Take a seat. Scotch or... scotch?”

Frowning heavily, Levi knew for a fact doctors weren’t supposed to be drinking at work. Hannes laughing at his expression

“Late nights can get pretty boring. I take it that’s a no?”

“I’m alright, thank you”

“You can take your mask off. We’ve got scent cancellers in the room”

He’d rather keep his mask on. The place might be organised, but who knew how many germs were slithering across the surfaces in the room. Still, he was the one that’d followed Hannes, he should at least be civil. Taking the mask off, he stuffed it in his pocket, the air indeed devoid of most scents, but he was struck by how strongly his own scent was flowing off him. He smelt worried, setting off his alpha despite the fact it was own scent.

Pouring himself a shot of scotch, Hannes quickly downed it before placing the bottle and glass away in the bottom drawer of his desk

“That’s better. Now, Levi, tell me how you know Eren”

“I met him at the garage. He was stuck babysitting me”

The pout in his tone was clear, Hannes chuckling

“You’re the new hire. He said as much. Does he do a good job?”

“He takes pride in what he does. No one works as much, or as hard, as he does”

Levi felt pride in how hard Eren worked. He could slack off, but instead he put everything he had into the garage

“He’s always been like that. He was never the best and brightest, but what he lacked he made up for in determination. Has he spoken of his past?”

“He tends not to”

Eren was a mystery in so many ways. For instance why he was drawn to the man who was ridiculously fucking tall in comparison

“Ah. Well. I suppose with a past like his... He’s not one to open up about what he wants. Hell, we’ve all tried to support him, but he insists on going it alone...”

Levi nodded

“Yeah. He’s been fucking sick for weeks. Wouldn’t listen to anyone about it”

“Hmmm... And the garage?”

“He’s been coming to work, if that’s what you mean?”

“I mean does he get along with the alphas there?”

What kind of a question was that?

“You’re always going to have a pissing match when you’ve got a group of alphas. I wouldn’t say he’s close to anyone”

“He’s close to you”

“That’s because he got stuck showing me the ropes”

“And did those ropes involve the two of you ending up in bed?”

Levi spluttered. How the fuck did Hannes know about that?!

“I suspected it was you. I caught your scent on him when he came in for his medical”

Fucking sprung

“That was a drunken accident. Neither of us know how it happened”

A strange expression crossed Hannes’s face, the man turning his attention to his computer. If he had something to say, he should just spit it out rather than pussyfooting around

“Look, you dragged me here to ask me about Eren, knowing as much as you did. Isn’t it about time you told me what was going on!?”

“I’m afraid that’s for Eren to explain. I will tel you there’s been a shift in his dynamic since meeting you. That’s to be expected when a dominant alpha comes into the workplace. Do you mind if I take a swab of your glands?”

“Do you mind if I tell you to fuck off if you’re going to keep evading my questions?”

Most people would have been upset, Hannes laughing almost merrily

“Oh, I can see why you two get along. Look, Eren has a complicated past. He’s not one to get close to anyone anymore. He’s been dumped and cheated on, been accused of some pretty serious stuff. I’d like to know more about the man he’s gotten close to”

Levi felt instant anger. If you weren’t happy in a relationship then the only logical thing to do was leave, not fucking sleep around

“There isn’t romantic there, if that’s what you’re reply”

“I’m hoping for his happiness. I know the garage isn’t exactly legal. I know the kinds of people Rod employees, and I know Eren keeps saying he only needs to stick it out a few more months, but I care about him like he was a son. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“You don’t want a ruffian like me fucking him up”

“There’s that. For a beta, Eren has an unusual constitution. He’ll never ask for anything, leaving him to be fucked over when things go wrong. I’m honestly relieved he’s found someone to be there”

Eren was a beta? That made no sense. Beta’s didn’t hiss or growl. Nor did they leak scent... He must be a beta-alpha who’d slid closer towards beta on the scale. Without scent cancellers, the slide in dynamics was pretty common until people became bonded with their partner

“So this change in dynamic, is it physically affecting him?

“More so than I’ve ever seen...”

Levi’s stomach dropped. His presence clearly making Eren ill, and Eren hadn’t said a damn thing. Hannes continuing

“... that’s why I’d like to swab your scent glands, with permission”

Levi had had no clue. No clue he was making Eren sick... Did Eren know? Was there more to this than a claimed “infection”? Like the change in dynamic had left his immune system weakened? Levi had always been a dominant alpha since he’d presented, not that people could usually tell from his short stature. Normally he wouldn’t be so ruffled, yet this was the first time he’d known his presence to make anyone physically ill. His alpha felt stricken to the point of near dramatics over this turn in events

“I didn’t... I didn’t know. I use cancellers...”

“I’m sure you do, but they can also be rendered ineffective on some dominant alphas”

“Uh. Yeah. I mean, if it’ll help him out...”

“Excellent. Now, this won’t hurt a bit. I’ll get it out the way and send it off for processing, then we can kick back until they let me know it’s time for Eren to be released”

Wait? How was being around him going to make Eren feel any better?

“Should... I really be around him if I make him ill?”

“I can’t let him go home alone. He’ll need rest and plenty of fluids. I’ll also need to give you a letter to hand to Rod to explain Eren’s absence. Rod might think him violent, but I’m sure there’s more to the story than what meets the eye”

“Is that something to do with Eren’s past?”

Hannes seemed flustered at Levi pulling him up

“Ah, I’ve said too much. You’re best off talking to him, but don’t be to surprised if he brushes it off. He seems to be the only one who knows anything about what actually happened, and tabloids always blow things out of proportion. You can’t always rely on what’s reported. Think of it as doing this old man a favour”

He didn’t owe Hannes anything. Nor was he about to do him a favour. Having Eren now pushed onto him, that’d mean taking Eren back to his apartment as there was no way the beta was handling stairs in his condition. No. He’d do Eren the favour and repay his kindness that first night, but Hannes had nothing to do with it. As it was, he really shouldn’t be consenting to anything

“Tch. Fine. Let’s just get this shitty test out the way”

[christinaroseandrews]

It’s still shark week, and I’m still ranting about this book.

If you want to read the previous parts they can be found here: Part One, Part Two

Onward!

Part Three

Last time I ranted about the hero and the consent issues and mentioned the consent issues.

I’m now going to go into the racism and cultural appropriation present.

In Part One I noted that despite being in Mexico that there were no Spanish speakers, Latinos, or really any other people of color... Well, there was one - Stephie, who is Asian-American, but who doesn’t really do much and frankly just exists. It’s Tokenism, plain and simple. I’m for having PoC in books, more please, but they need to do more than just be window dressing.

The book also really becomes problematic regarding Native Americans. As in we get the Mystical Native Trope and the White Person is Inducted into the Tribe complete with Spirit Animal... Which let me tell you, hella problematic. So problematic.

Grace goes on to wax about how she knows and connects with Great White Sharks so well. And I’m over here raging. Like so very hard. The book constantly has her being bumped, bitten, and nibbled by every Great White she sees, I’m just kind of done.

There’s also other racist language toward Indigenous Peoples.

Pow Wows are a very specific term, and this really shouldn’t be one of them. And Native American tribal representatives have asked that people stop co-opting their culture.

And to stop denigrating it.

Apparently this author didn’t get the message.

At this point I took a deep breath and swore a lot. I’m not Native American so I can’t claim to know how they feel. I can only go by what I have been told by those who are Native American. But this is why she needed a sensitivity reader. Ideally someone who could tell her...look this isn’t okay... maybe don’t do this. It wasn’t necessary. But I’m certain the author added it to give a reason for Grace to have a mystical connection with Sharks rather than just being super into them and devoting her life to them.

You know, like Greg Skomal or Ron and Valerie Taylor or David Shiffman or literally hundreds of other shark scientists out there.

Sigh...

And then we get to the “Author clearly did not do the research” portion of the rant.

So if you recall from my rant about Faleena Hopkins’ “You Don’t Know Me” book that drowning is not really something that you just bounce back from. That drowning leads to things like pneumonia, bacterial infections, and brain damage due to lack of oxygen. And that as a former lifeguard, I’m kinda familiar with why drowning sucks.

The author apparently subscribes to the Hollywood idea of how drowning works... And how Shark attacks work... but hey... what do I know?

So to set the scene...

Grace and company are at Guadalupe Island when they get word that a tourist boat lost one of their diving cages after a shark got tangled in it.

Here’s a clip of what I’m talking about. https://youtu.be/-lJGYgxDnb0?t=105

So against Mexican law, the group go to help the tourist group get their cage up from the ocean floor. Alec and his team help pull the shark cage up while Grace acts as a spotter/safety diver. The role of this diver is to keep an eye on the sharks because the people working can’t. Remember this.

Grace waxes about two other sharks that appear... driving Felix briefly...

You know... because navel-gazing is a useful thing for a safety diver to be doing.

Then Felix gets tangled up again in the cage. And Grace jumps into the cage, with the shark, to help get him out. (Note: Sharks can’t swim backwards... *eyes Jaws 3D with annoyance*)

Sure enough she gets into trouble... as in the Shark slams her hard enough into the cage to lose consciousness.  Which is really really bad underwater. Using scuba equipment isn’t like normal unconscious breathing. So, as you would expect 60 feet under the water, Grace drowns.

Alec saves her... because of course he does. And performs CPR on her... you know the kind of CPR which doesn’t break ribs, bruise the chest, or result in a hospital visit... because despite being knocked out, drowning, and then having CPR performed on her Grace recovers instantaneously to keep chasing after the shark.

Alec tries to talk her out of it... because while I hate him he does have a point.

But Grace, being Grace, is too TSTL to listen.

Eventually all is well and they’re back on the boat... and Missy (who I haven’t mentioned but is Grace’s bestie and also the resident Medic on board) is all googly eyed at Grace.

Speaking as someone who does have brain damage from a head injury, any time you lose consciousness for any traumatic reason you need to go to a hospital.

Later in the book, Felix returns and is aggressive.

Rather than doing the smart thing and getting out of the water, Grace decides to confront the Great White... because Grace is gonna do Grace.

She gets attacked by Felix who bites her foot and starts dragging her down into the depths. Since she’s freediving, naturally she runs out of air. And drowns again. As you do. But not before a shark who she’s known her whole life appears out of nowhere and carries her up to the surface.

Because apparently Grace is special and not food... despite bleeding everywhere.

Once again she doesn’t get actual medical attention. Despite being bitten by a shark. Dontcha know that sharks’ mouths are totally pristine. There’s absolutely no chance of infection at all.  It’s not like there are literally all sorts of bacteria and other protozoans in the ocean.

Sigh.

I’m going to stop here and wrap things up in one last shorter post where I give my rating and talk about what I did like... there wasn’t much.

Until Next Time! Go here for Part Four!

If you like these kind of honest reviews, please consider supporting us here!

[aryasbadbenergy]

sugar we’re going down swinging

happy @gendrya-gift-exchange​ to @merrymhysa​ ( @renata-klein​ ) !!! i was so excited to see that you were my recipient because your blog is so pretty! i really really hope you like this because i really enjoyed writing it!! 

prompt: Gendry carries his trusty hammer for smashing in zombie skulls, while riding around on his bike, which Arya has dubbed “The Murder Cycle”. She, on the other hand, prefers a bow and likes to keep a kill count as they travel from town to town.

We're going down, down in an earlier round

And Sugar, we're going down swinging

I'll be your number one with a bullet

A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it

Sugar, We're Goin' Down ~ Fall Out Boy

Arya’s last arrow struck the zombie pinning Gendry down in the throat. The zombie gurgled out a groan and collapsed next to him. Gendry clutched at his own throat and tried to slow down his breathing. “Saved your life. For the one hundredth and forty-third time,” she teases. 

link to ao3 

“Thanks.”

Arya shrugs. “I need more arrows,” she responds before she presses her foot to the dead zombie’s chest and pulls her arrow back out. She wipes the blood off on its grimy pant leg and slides it back into her quiver before moving to the arrow that had struck the bush behind its head. 

143.

Arrow through the eye. 

144.

Gendry’s insists that he killed four of the five, but he hit the fucker after her arrow had already made it into his intestines, so she had two kills. 

146.

Dagger to the throat. She needs more arrows. 

147.

Arrow through the decaying tit into the heart. The fletchings of one of her last two arrows tore off. 

148.

Gendry stops the Murder Cycle in front of the Walmart and Arya swings her leg over the side. She nocks her last arrow from her quiver and starts walking towards the doors. The automatic door had come off of its tracks, so she ducks under the crooked opening. Gendry pulls his sledgehammer out of the seat compartment and follows behind her. Arya bangs a broken cart into the walls a few times to draw out any zombies in the solace of Walmart. Nothing makes a sound except for the cart. She steps further into the store. 

The directional signs hanging from the ceiling were surprisingly still intact across many of the Walmarts that Arya and Gendry had come across, but the electricity wasn’t always stellar. She shines her flashlight at the signs to illuminate them and eventually makes it to the hunting gear section. 

“Hey, how about we start eating this shit,” she teases and throws a pack of dehydrated spaghetti at Gendry. He catches it and laughs. 

“Yeah, I’m sure it will taste just like your mom’s. How about dehydrated pizza? Just add water.”

“No, by far the best meal here is the dehydrated chicken enchiladas,” she grins. 

A groan comes from behind one of the aisles to their left. “Motherfucker,” she grumbles and reaches for the sealed pack of arrows from the bottom of one of the shelves. She props up her flashlight to shine across the aisle which offers a little more light on top of the flickering LEDs above them.

Another groan to their right. And the sound of unbalanced steps from somewhere else in the store and more groans and limb dragging and Arya tugs on the plastic unsuccessfully. 

Gendry raises his sledgehammer and takes out the zombie running towards him. Blood and brain splatters onto the ground. Another zombie gets his face knocked in before two more run into the aisle at once. Arya finally cuts through the plastic with her other arrow before the third zombie running in can get to her or Gendry. The zombie Gendry aimed for was smart enough to duck and grabs for his leg. 

“Fucking hell, some help would be nice!” 

“I’m trying!” Arya shouts back before cutting the one closest to her in the throat with the sharp edge of her bow. She nocks her arrow and kills the zombie limping behind Gendry and draws a new one out of the package, aiming for the zombie now latched onto Gendry’s arm. He tries to grab his hammer with his other arm so he can kill it before its snapping jaws make it too close to his wrist. “Don’t move,” Arya commands.

She releases the arrow, but the zombie yanks on Gendry’s arm. The arrow grazes Gendry’s arm, but still hits the zombie enough that it shocks it, but doesn’t kill it. It lets go of Gendry’s arms and he swings his hammer into its skull. 

Gendry sets his sledgehammer down to inspect his arm. “You shot me.”

“You moved.”

Gendry huffs and shakes his head at her. “You say that like I moved on purpose.”

“Sorry,” Arya says and grimaces at the cut. She picks up her flashlight and motions for Gendry to follow her in her hunt for more antiseptic. 

150.

“Looks like we’ve found somewhere to sleep,” Gendry comments, stopping in front of the smatter of motel rooms. 

He pulls flat head screwdriver out of the storage compartment along with his sledgehammer and steps towards the main building of the complex. Arya follows close behind him to cover him while he picks the lock and raids the office for a room key. He finds one and holds it up. Arya grins and he tosses it to her so she can find the room that it goes to. When it opens the second door she tries she looks back at Gendry who is putting the screwdriver back in the compartment and pulling out his chain. 

He chains his bike to the lamppost next to the door, which makes Arya laugh to herself because they hadn’t seen another living person for at least a week. He locks the chain with the key he kept around his neck and follows Arya into the room.

She tests the faucets with running water, but doesn’t let herself get disappointed when the only water is little drizzle that’s turned brown with rust. 

She washes her hands with water from one of the water bottles instead. Their water supply was limited—like every fucking thing else—but that was because they couldn’t exactly transport 40 bottles of Great Value on Gendry’s Murder Cycle. They would usually just load up their packs with a few bottles and hope they pass another Walmart before they ran out. Arya wasn’t about to die from a fucking bacterial infection during the apocalypse though, so they still washed their hands whenever they could and tried to at least keep their faces clean. Arya would say she would kill for a shower, but now that she’s killed 150 times and still hasn’t had that shower, the proclamation has lost its meaning. But she might bite a zombie for a shower. She digs the first aid kit out of Gendry’s pack while he pulls the gauze off of the cut. 

Arya pours a small amount of the antiseptic into the gash on Gendry’s forearm. Arya pulls the nylon thread out of the first aid kit and cuts off a strand to stitch the cut with. Her mother had tried to teach her how to sew clothes back up so they looked as good as new, but Arya was never very good at sewing prettily. It would get the job done, though. Gendry bites down on his bottom lip while Arya pulls the needle through his arm and sews it up. She tries to do it quickly, but she doesn’t want to mess it up. She finishes the suture and cuts the thread. Gendry hands her a new gauze bad to cover the stitches with. She tapes it in place and throws away the rest of the thread before she holds a flame from her lighter to the needle to sterilize it. 

They pack up the first aid kit and clean up. They had been able to snag some new pants and shirts from Walmart, but they could only take a change or two at a time. 

Arya rubs soap on her hands and Gendry pours some of the bottled water into her cupped hands. She lathers her face up next and Gendry pours water for her again. When her face doesn’t feel like it’s caked with decay she swaps places with Gendry and pours water for him.  She pulls out her toothbrush and the squeezed-to-hell tube of toothpaste that she had been lugging around for a while and brushes her teeth. She peels off the layers that she had been wearing for the past several days and changes into the new clothes. Gendry changes, too, and they eat some of their jerky supply and dehydrated apple slices. 

“Remember when you shot me?” Gendry teases. Arya playfully rolls her eyes at him and bends down to give him a soft kiss. 

“I said I was sorry.” She starts to stand back up, but Gendry grabs onto her hand. He sets his other hand on her hip and Arya leans forward again. Arya cups his face and he hooks his finger through her empty belt loop to tug her closer. 

Arya traces Gendry’s  bull tattoo with her nail. It’s always been her favorite. The bull head covers his heart and takes up most of his chest. “Do you think that if we looked hard enough we could find an operating tattoo shop?” Arya teases. 

Gendry lets out a half huff, half chuckle. “Only you could be in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse and want another tattoo,” he grins and Arya can’t help but grin back. It had been so long since he had truly grinned with his bright eyes and wide smile, and she didn’t know how much she missed seeing a smile on his face. “What do you want a tattoo of?”

Arya’s smile falls a little. She looks down at the three little flowers on her forearm. One for each of the Starks that she’d lost. That had been before though. 

For all she knew, she might be the only one left. Her phone had died three days in, not like there was any manpower to keep the service going. She couldn’t exactly shoot Jon a text like “Hey, for sure at least 3⁄4 of this country has been wiped out, but how are things up in Greenland? Has whatever this is spread to your part of the world, yet?” And Bran had been up in Greywater Watch during the outbreak. Rickon was away at ROTC in God-knows-where this time—she wishes everyday that she would have asked before he left—but she didn’t know if he was safe with the military or not. And Arya didn’t even know where to start looking for Sansa. 

“You want another flower?” Gendry asks. He had been with her when got the first flower, a Virginia Bluebell, for her father. And the sunflower and dandelion for her mother and Robb. “You don’t know that they’re dead, Arya. They’re still out there either waiting for you or looking for you,” he promises, so sure of the thought. 

Arya nods a little. She misses them. Arya misses listening to music and eating food that didn’t come from a can or a vacuum-sealed bag and getting to shower whenever she wants to and being able to ride somewhere in a car even if she used to find Catelyn’s hatred for Gendry’s motorcycle alluring, but above all, she misses Jon and Bran and Rickon and Sansa. And there’s still a chance she can find them. 

If no one is at Winterfell manor, which is where they are headed, Arya is going to keep looking. She won’t rest until she finds them. 

They come across the bright red, bleeding handprint the next morning a few buildings away from the motel. Zombie blood was a dark brown, even if it was fresh. There might be a save-able human in the building. Arya presses her index finger to her lips and Gendry rolls his eyes, but nods. She slips into the building and steps carefully to avoid creaky floorboards. She goes into the first room on the left and Gendry takes the next room to the right. She shines her flashlight through the room quickly and moves onto the next. A clatter and a scream comes from the back room, and Arya’s grip tightens on her bow. She hated splitting up with Gendry. They worked better as a team, even if she had shot him. 

Swift as a deer. Quiet as a shadow. Fear cuts deeper than swords. Quick as a snake. Calm as still water. Fear cuts deeper than swords. 

She treads towards the sound and grimaces when she hears the horrible sound of a zombie feeding. She walks faster and reaches the still-swaying two-way door. The white paint had chipped over the years, but the bloody handprints were fresh here as well. She catches a glimpse of the room when the door swings in for a moment and counts at least two zombies. She draws her arrow and aims for one of the kneeling zombies. The door swings in again and Arya fires, knocking the zombie down onto its side with an arrow plunged into its back. The other zombie looks up from its meal with a grunt and Arya nocks another arrow. The zombie groans lowly and Arya strikes it in the head. She lets out a small sigh and steps into the small room. She nocks another arrow just in case and inspects the poor girl that had become the zombies’ lunch. 

Arya’s stomach almost overturns. She takes a slow breath and debates in her thoughts for a second. 

It was Bella. She was still alive, her chest barely moving, but she had been bitten, and her heart would stop soon enough. And Arya was going to have to give her mercy. 

Gendry hardly knew Bella, but it would upset him to have to see her after she had had bites taken out of her. But there was no way that Arya was going to try to hide his sister from him. He had a right to know. “Arya,” Bella croaks, and stares past Arya. 

Before Arya has the chance to call for Gendry, a zombie that must have been crouching behind the counter grabs Arya from behind. She flails and tries to get out of its grasp but it pins her arms to her sides. 

“Gendry!” She shouts and kicks behind her. She digs her nails into its fragile flesh and tries to pry its hand off of her, but it doesn’t flinch. She swings her bow behind her and hits it in the legs, but the zombies are hard to injure enough that they let go of their prey, and harder to kill unless their heart stops. Its fucking mouth gets too close to her neck and Arya can only squirm away and kick harder. Gendry runs into the room and helps pry Arya from its grasp before he smashes its head. Arya takes a slow breath and leans against the wall. There was only about an hour between the human being bitten and turning into a zombie. 

“That was close,” Gendry mumbles. “You okay?”

Arya nods. “Gendry,” she starts softly, “it’s Bella.” Gendry clenches his jaw. 

“What?”

She points to the girl. They knew the consequences of not giving the human mercy—more zombies, more victims, more humans dying. Arya doesn’t want to kill Bella, but she has to do it.

Gendry kneels next to Bella and grabs her hand. She smiles a little at him and her eyes are already starting to glaze over. “Gendry.”

“Hey, Bella,” he murmurs. “I had hoped our reunion might have been a little nicer than this,” he admits with a small chuckle. Bella smiles again. Blood comes from her mouth, but Gendry gulps and pretends that he doesn’t notice. “It’s going to be okay,” he promises. “It’s going to be okay.” Bella nods a little and Gendry lays her hand over her stomach and stands. He grabs Arya’s arm and leans down into her ear. “She’s my sister,” his voice breaks. “You have to do it,” he says and steps out of the room. 

“You understand what I have to do?” Arya asks. Tears come from Bella’s eyes, but she nods. “I’m sorry.”

Arya draws her arrow. 

153.

[gwydionmisha]

Personal: 12/13/20

Thursday: The pain was terrible today, as in burst into tears twice trying to do physio taking three hours to get it together to leave my room bad.  My lungs are getting worse too, in a predictable bacterial infection kind of way.  My covid test isn't back yet, but the atibiotics came so I can start them when I get confirmation it's just the usual.

Livia peed on the bed again last night, but I had cleverly put down a piss pad, as these things come in twos and threes.  The placement was correct.  I've checked periodically tonight and still dry, but this tends to happen within an hour or two of bed so fingers crossed.

Did I mention Tavy tried to call the paramedics a fifth timea couple of nights ago because I was eating to slow?  Because he did.  I've been keeping it in a spot he's not allowed to go and mostly doesn't want to but... yeah.  It has to be on that desk, and finding it a spot he can't get t is a major project and isn't happening any time soon.

The nice lady assured me cats frequently try to call paramedics, so it is less embarrassing than one would think.  I kind of love that this a known problem with the tech.

Saturday: The pain situation is still bad, but better than Friday and Thursday.  I got back the negative Covid test Friday afternoon, so I've started my antibiotics.  After two doses the sinus symptoms are way better and my lungs, while not clear are clearing.

Livia is still pissing the bed, but so far the pee pads are working.  Someone sent me a fancy litterbox I need to assemble, but I am rather excited about.  If you sent it, please let me know.  I'd like to thank you properly.