#i just have a lot of nurse friends which is how i know the ins and outs of the job

[iliterallydecepticanteven]

Combining the idea that Teresa wants to work in the ICU and the idea that Mac has energon poisoning, I've been given the following:

Mac, sitting in the emergency room holding a bucket of her own glowing vomit and looking like death warmed over: huh, that's new

Teresa: IT CERTAINLY FUCKING IS

Wig you have given me a wonderful idea for a drabble, please enjoy:

Teresa had bounced between multiple different hospitals in her time working as a travel nurse. She knows the ins and outs, the dangers of the profession, and what the various codes mean. Code blue is cardiac arrest, code red is a fire, code pink is someone trying to kidnap a kid, code aqua is part of the building is flooding, code white is get security to me now, code silver is someone's grandpa wandered off again, and so on. Those were the most common she heard on her usual shifts and she'd called a couple of them herself.

However, as she bounced between her two ICU patients, thinking about if she should text Emily about bringing home dinner, she freezes in place as the overhead intercom crackles to life.

"Code orange in emergency department, code orange in emergency department. Stay clear of area."

"What the fuck?" she mutters. The emergency department was a meager floor below them.

One of the nursing students with them on shift gives her a confused look. "What's code orange for?"

"Hazardous materials that aren't biohazardous. Usually radiation or chemical spills," she says, stepping behind the counter of the nurses station.

The phone rang and Teresa nearly jumped out of her skin. The charge nurse answers it and Teresa takes a few deep calming breaths. She tries to remind herself that it probably wasn't that bad. Someone probably cracked the container of one of the xray machines or spilled cleaning chemicals.

"Teresa?" She turns at the sound of her name. The charge nurse had one hand over the receiver of the phone. "You have radiation and hazardous material safety training right?"

Her stomach twists as she sighs, "Yeah."

Teresa had worked in her far share of various wards and units while traveling. She had oncological experience handling both chemotherapy patients and radiation patients. Whatever was happening must have been a mix as she had been told to gown, double glove, put on a respirator and face shield, and a lead vest with an EPD. She was pulling her disposable shoe covers on when the elevator dings.

Teresa was already in the patient's designated room. It was at the very end of the unit and had no one in the neighboring rooms to reduce the chances of cross contamination. She's not sure what she's expecting to be wheeled in. She had seen gruesome sights in her career. Everything from fourth degree burns to necrotic limbs to chemical burns down to the bone. She always expects the worst and hopes for the best.

The bed is wheeled into the room and Teresa freezes in shock.

Her patient is a young woman, looking small against the stark white sheets, still wearing street clothes, and clutching a bucket in her lap. Her eyes are glossy and something bright blue is dribbling from the side of her mouth.

Transport gets the bed into place and Teresa steps into the hall to take report. The patient, Mackenzie Adam, came into the emergency department complaining of gastrointestinal distress, high fever, trouble focusing, and a migraine. She then proceeded to vomit into a bucket, the contents of which were described as "unnaturally blue" and set off the radiation warning system. Vitals had been taken, blood type and allergies unknown, and she scored an eleven on the Glasgow Coma Scale.

"Great," Teresa says, clapping her hands together.

"We're trying to pull doctors to come and see her right now, it's just, we don't know what's wrong so we don't know who to send," the nurse says.

"It's fine. I'll take vitals and see what her complaints are," Teresa says.

She steps back into the room and smiles wide enough that it translates to her eyes. "Hi Mackenzie, can you tell me where you are right now?"

Mackenzie blinks slowly before mumbling, "Hospital."

Teresa gently places a monitor onto one of her fingers. She glances into the bucket and bites back a wince at the glowing contents. "Wonderful. Do you know which hospital?"

"Mercy," she mumbles.

"Correct," Teresa says. Slowly increasing that GCS was always good. She taps at her patient monitor, bringing it to life, and begins reading her vitals. Then she does a double take and reads them again. Just to be sure, she fishes a thermometer out of her pocket and swipes it across Mackenzie's forehead.

"What's wrong?" the woman asks her.

Teresa hesitates before answering, "Well, your vitals are a bit concerning. Your heartrate is a little high, as is your blood pressure, but still within range. And your oxygen saturation is phenomenal. But your temperature is very high and we need to bring it down."

Teresa had seen high temperatures before. She had encountered her fair share of hyperpyrexia patients and coaxed their 106 degree fevers down within normal range. She had seen patients hit 108 and watched their bodies give out.

The temperature on the monitor and her own thermometer read 125 degrees Fahrenheit. By all modern medical logic, Teresa should be standing next to a corpse, not someone who looked like she was suffering through the worst hangover of her life.

"Oh. I do feel kinda warm," Mackenzie says. She begins to shift around, pulling at her coat, and Teresa breaks out of her daze to help her.

With her arms free, she should start an IV line on her, start getting fluids in at the very least, and pull blood samples. But that grinds to a halt when she looks down at her patient's arms.

"Do you know what's wrong with me?" Mackenzie asks her. Her heartrate has increased.

Teresa snaps her eyes back. Normally, this was the point when she should be forcing a reassuring smile onto her face and saying she'd get the doctor. But there was no doctor right now.

"I am not a doctor, so I cannot give you an official diagnosis," Teresa begins. "But I can point out abnormalities."

She walks over to the light switch and flicks it off. The room is illuminated only by the meager light from the hallway, the dying sun outside, and a third source. She walks back to the bedside and gently grabs one of Mackenzie's wrists, turning her arm over to expose the underside of her forearm.

"See how it looks like your veins are glowing?" she asks.

Mackenzie nods and in the low light Teresa sees that it's not just her veins. The sclera of her eyes were tinted the same luminescent blue.

"They're not supposed to fucking do that," Teresa says.

"Oh," Mackenzie replies and Teresa has to bite back a nervous laugh. The whole situation felt so surreal, so fake, so inane. She wondered if she was going to wake up to this all being some wild dream.

As she snaps the light back on, she hears Mackenzie mumble, "I don't feel good." It's the only warning she gets before the woman goes lax and the monitor screams as she flatlines. Teresa curses to herself before calling a code blue.

Twenty-eight minutes of chest compressions and an ungodly amount of epinephrine later, Mackenzie is sitting up in her bed, asking for some water, surrounded by confused neurologists, cardiologists, hematologists, and toxicologists.

Teresa has retreated to the clean stock room to take a moment to compose herself by sitting on a box of clean linens and whispering, "What the actual fuck."

[leewhitaker]

Body Is Money

I quit studying policy to become a sex worker because everything you know about women, you learned from someone else. Who learned from someone else, who learned from someone else who made it up a long, long time ago. And you never thought to question it, but I did.

The fact that men are not taught to distrust in the way that women are does also work in my favor. Not in the sense that distrust is what keeps you alive, anyway. I held my cards closer to my chest, but I was sizing you up just the same; I sized up the fashion in which you sized me up, but knew how to hide it. Your ego is not made of material soft enough to fold into a shape small enough to stow, so here we are. Two reductions facing one another.

Blind are men to how easily you give yourselves away. You describe conflicts of your own creation, in the passive voice. By the third sentence, I have pinpointed exactly who you need me to be tonight, for the right price. I am your mother. I am your therapist. I am your best friend’s girlfriend. I am the pupil you always wanted to fuck. I am the intern—no, the hostage—no, the nurse. I am the cinched, squeaky cartoon with blue hair, the first time you touched yourself. I am the Virgin Mary.

You’re alone on another birthday, but if I gaze at you as though you are a gladiator and I am unlucid, you will reach for your pocket. A tango in reverse is led by the follower knowing precisely when to sidestep. You ask: can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone before? And the hook pierces clean through your cheek. The spool ticks wildly as it reels and I smile down at you, distorted through the waves.

Of course.

And you just accept the hoax, without skepticism! There was never a doubt in your mind that I may not in fact be the figment you designed in boyhood, because in this light I do kind of look like that poster, that page. De-personify as your de-fault setting is half my work done. And I love indulging you, playing the benign, unassuming little trifle who fills the her-shaped hole. Who pretends she didn’t read your opinion on the opioid crisis verbatim in the Guardian last week, because you can’t find a real woman in the world whose wow is quite as convincing as when you pay for it. Tell me your every badge, for they will twinkle in my eyes.

I know I shouldn’t laugh while I’m up here, but the satire of it all... I am your entertainment for the night? Comrade, you are mine.

Allowing a man to believe he is superior is but the careful calculation of an ever-evolving trajectory towards safety. What could you have possibly encountered to necessitate that kind of guile? Have you encountered it everyday since puberty?

Ergo, a naked woman will never go out of business. The CEO will always make a bastard by the secretary. The pastor’s hands will always wander. The producer will always coax: shut the door behind you, and the politician will always leave because his wife couldn’t keep it tighter than the babysitter. Not every man surely, but enough. You’re here, aren’t you? It doesn’t take a lot.

If your father never cheated, he’s considered it. He’s made a mental pros and cons list, lying awake next to your mother while you were crying on the baby monitor. You’ll go back and forth on that moral seesaw too someday when your baby is crying. Because of the Maxim you didn’t buy, but perused for thirty minutes at the newsstand, and the fact that we live in a century where a body postpartum is just over. Where the shapes women grow in places to sustain human life are less fuckable. Where desire is nature, but slender is nurture, and only one matters at all.

This is not to suggest that women exist on some higher moral plane. Temptation sways all of us alike; if women were in power, we’d get caught and face the occasional consequence, too. The stakes simply aren’t the same for us because up until recently, if my memory serves, you let us close to none of the capital. You condemned us, killed us by stone, fire, and rope, built institutions and invented hysteria. But when the times changed, you came to the inconvenient realization that you also couldn’t follow the rules you wrote. Because the rules are that our intrinsic proclivity to sex, which transcends doctrine, taxonomy, and time is not correct—that biology, the architect of want, is suppressible at all. Desire is a weakness only because we built a world in which it is an inconvenience.

Our species would cease to exist if the act itself didn’t feel so good. So you’ve read The Wealth of Nations, both Testaments, did your pheromones subside?

“Sex is not an enterprise—unlike writing a book or building a career.” Susan Sontag wrote that in her diary, but I’m paraphrasing. “There are no promises, no goals. It’s not an accumulation.” We just want it, badly and more, no matter how much of it we have already, no matter how satiated we were yesterday. Lust returns. How convenient it would be, if we all just divided independently like cells. I don’t know, like I said I never finished college. What I have come to learn in praxis, and no classroom, is that underneath my clothes there is a market. And for a brief window, this body I am in—this service, this good, is my most lucrative asset.

Under capitalism, an affair is a fluke; the decision to have one disrupts the vertical gridlock of power. Sex is the sole commodity for which the consumer is willing to risk almost anything; it’s unusual, no? Sex is expensive, but the opposite of rare. It is irresistible, and always at your fingertips. A man will readily, eagerly welcome scandal, defamation, sacrifice a campaign, smear his own legacy. Every accolade lost—a lifetime’s worth of work upon generations of nepotism, and for what? The tiny thing between my legs, which his wife also has?

It makes me laugh. It makes me sad. I want the Disney love, too, some days.

“Life is just one small piece of light between two eternal darknesses.” Vladimir Nabokov wrote that line in Lolita and well, before I am the cosmos I am twenty-three, and what I want out of this abject, hallucinatory burst of light is to sparkle naked before strangers in a dark room. This is what gives me a sense of completeness so little else can achieve, in a way that feels good not to question. I feel no strong, unlearned predilection to be prolific, or remembered eternally. I have spent this long deteriorating, waiting to want the veil and the Jack and the cul-de-sac—what frightens me more is putting all my life-eggs into the grocer-dyed basket of suburbia. I have wondered about it with a therapist. I have wondered about it extensively alone. Getting to the bottom of whatever I internalized in the oven-fired clay of my childhood to set this in motion, will do little in the way of unbraiding the pathways of neurons. And I don’t want a consolation pottery wheel, I want to strip. I want the primping beforehand, I want the puzzlement of my friends, I want the title, the absurdity. Each time I second-guess the absence of my shame, I stop myself from relishing the presence of my joy. Why shouldn’t I respect myself just because you don’t?

I have been beaten, spoken over, plagiarized, violated, broken and entered—all before sex work, and by people who I was either led to trust or had no choice but to depend upon. I have been castigated for the ways in which I adapted to survive my circumstances, then turned around, and scathed mercilessly at other women over their means of survival, to which I have never personally needed to resort. “You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman,” indeed, but often the voyeur within is a council of people who think and act the most like you. And why must we endure the arbitrary wrath of the patriarchy without so much as a return on our tax?

How many years have I paid tithe in cotton wallpaper? How much of my paycheck lost to circumventing motherhood, while hurting the other things inside of me? If born a little bit beautiful in a world where so few of us are, why not lean into it a little, if only out of spite? For the sake of the gratis rum and coke, for the assembly of the bookshelf. I will continue to fight tooth and nail for the rest of my life, I will attend every protest; the might of the American patriarchal stronghold is still going to outlive me. Those two truths coexist. There will be babies born after I am gone, who grow up to believe in the fairytale of whores.

Who are we anyway, to interpret the divine parameters around when and how sex—a six million year-old ceremony—ought to be enjoyed? And then go on to conclude that white, Christian men in the last few centuries were the first and only ones to get it right? You don't think a Byzantine seventeen year-old on mushrooms could have thought up Nietzsche? Since when has the first to write it down, equated to the first to make it exist? Have you never told a lie? Jesus was thirty-three when he died. What if you told a lie and then it became a religion?

You could have been born in a remote village two hundred years ago and met fifteen people all your life—a life equally insignificant and profound, engorged by passion and unfathomable grief, with connections to family, to the earth. Every color perceivable and alike in richness to the ones you know now. You may never have seen written language, but you would know the magic of an orgasm.

But to you in this life, staring up at me in this spotlight, you scarcely believe that I might reason. That there is a world inside me, too. And what a shame that is for you. How much you have missed out on already, to not really think your mother is a person. How fuller my life will be. I can hear the chasm of my inner monologue as you invent it:

Twirl here. Crawl there. Bite lip.

Toss hair. Arch back. Take tip.

You watch me, mesmerized and jaw-slacked over no news: the same supple mirage which you conjured on a screen earlier today, later tonight, and tomorrow. You adjust your crotch, huddled in the dark with the knowledge that you will both lie about where you were later, and come back. I move the blood in your body, and you can’t even keep my eyes.

Every president has whined, and pressed himself against a pillow. Every glossy paper face at the newsstand has been a spectator in a shadowy booth. For every naked woman spinning there is her reflection in a dilated pupil, every eye split with a silver pole begins to resemble a reptile’s, and every brothel has a back door for heroes. I have met your idols and they have all asked how much for the hour, for the night. Most men have feigned naiveté over the process of coercion, as it’s more convenient than atoning the way they’ve always lived. Most men have said c’mon in response to no until it was no longer playful.

Have you ever asked yourself why men kill women, but need from us first so, so much love? Tell me, when you chase that intangible quality a parent had lost by the time you could remember—some adrenaline between love and repletion—is it yourself you have to hurt to get the high, or someone else?

L.W.

[gogogobarry]

HAPPY 9TH BIRTHDAY, BARRY! REFLECTIONS & MOVING FORWARD

Well, it’s here again! Way back in 2013, sometime in the first week of June, I submitted an application for this Barry blog to be accepted into an RP group...and I haven’t looked back since. I had always liked writing and Pokemon, and this blog was my real introduction to RP and Tumblr as a whole. And even though my muses, writing buddies, and scenes have changed so much over the years, I always find myself returning to this blog. Barry’s my creative north star, and--when I have the chance--it’s still so fun to write him.

Now, some of you might say: but you’ve barely written on him lately! and you would be absolutely right, not only on this blog but on my other Tumblr blogs as well. To be honest, I feel like my writing mindset here has been in a weird (not negative) space recently. I try not to post too much ooc--and almost never any negative ooc (because I feel people have enough on their plates and should spend mental energy worrying about me, I’m fine)--but I thought I would take this posting space, this blog’s anniversary, to provide a bit of an in-depth update and try to talk through my latest thoughts. As a treat.

This blog isn’t going anywhere and I am feeling great lately. Barry’s still the man. And I know how self-indulgent this is all sounding so far, so I’m going to stick the rest of my ramblings under the cut. Please note that I’m going to be mentioning hospitals (I work in one) and other real-world stuff under there, so if that’s not your cup of tea, I completely get it! And I really really do appreciate anybody who has stuck with me through this lil’ period of inactivity. Thanks. 😊

One year ago, my life was a grind. I was finishing up my master’s degree, working check-ins and staff management in a new hospital job during the height of the pandemic, and--because I couldn’t really go outside--I starting turning towards RP as an escape, a break from the chaos. I was already writing my thesis every day, so the words came easy...and RPing became a bigger part of my life, which I feel is both good and bad (I’ll speak to that in a bit.)

It was unhealthy, but I have always thrived under that pressure--pushing my own needs aside to get the job done, academics or elsewhere. If I don’t have that pressure, that chip on my shoulder, I need to replace it with another goal. I always need to be working towards something--like Barry, it’s hard for me to sit still. I’ve powered my way through a lot of obstacles that way, but that competitive mindset’s a double-edged sword.

So, when I earned my master’s at the beginning of 2022 and that pressure was finally lifted off, I doubled down on my hospital job because of staff shortages. I didn’t relax. The winter weather was awful, I wasn’t writing as much anymore, and I was convincing myself that I wasn’t burning out. I would come home, stuck inside, nap, and then escape with a bit of RP. It wasn’t sustainable.

That all came to a head around a couple months ago. While I was working, a visitor became furious when I asked them to put on their mask properly. They called me an anti-Asian slur and spat in my face. Family members were going through their own COVID scares at that time, my flight to my friend’s wedding had just gotten moved (again, thanks Delta), and I just felt numb for the rest of my shift. I remember a nurse taking me aside and demanding that I take some time off for myself. A week later, at the wedding, my friends (bless them) also had an intervention and told me the same thing: I looked exhausted.

So, when I came back, I took some time to reflect on how I was treating myself. I looked at RPing and wondered why I was finding it so hard to write lately. Years ago, when I was in a closed group setting with Barry, the circle had some pretty strict rules: no one-liners, no OOC spam, and focus on IC writing. I want to be clear: these rules were overly strict for many people and I absolutely am not trying to say that people shouldn’t post what they want here at all--go off. For me, even after going indie, I’ve personally always trended towards longform IC content and character studies/hcs/drabbles. And it still feels weird for me to make more than a couple posts a day. I fear dash cluttering.

After my lil’ break away and return, I’ve lately found myself overwhelmed by the sheer amount of content and posts on dash (esp. dashcomms and ooc), and I realize that that’s on me. It would be easy for me to wax poetic about the good ol’ days but it’s absolutely not true--I think indie has always been refreshingly chaotic ever since I really got into it--I just follow way more people now. Whenever I log on, it feels like the dash is in the midst of a dashcomm, inside joke or collective vent/rant that changes at such a quick pace. And again--this is NOT a knock on what people are posting--I’m just happy to be here, I like following new people and reading about new muses--I’m just personally having some difficulty keeping track of everything as of late. (Fun fact: For everybody saying curate your space, the only anon hate I have ever received on this blog came after I did a little round of non-ill willed softblocking on this account. If you’re reading this, come talk to me--I didn’t mean any misunderstanding! An unfollow doesn’t mean dislike, just that we never interacted, and I’m absolutely down for refollows.)

All of this to say: I feel like you get out of RP what you put into it, as with most things. For me, I haven’t had time to contribute much writing lately due to summer + responsibilities, so the creative motivation to be here is down right now, but I’m realizing that it’s okay. I don’t need to post every day, I can write novels & hcs for fun when I’m in the right mind to do so. In the scramble to be present and fight against FOMO here, I think I forgot about that.

When I was writing up my post here, I took a look through this blog’s history to read through some old posts. I thought about how many people Barry’s interacted with--people with deleted blogs, people with long inactive statuses, people who are still here. I think there’s this fear (at least that I’ve felt for myself since writing here) of being forgotten--the internet moves fast. This can extend to real life, too--I’m now more comfortable with the grind of my hospital job and I love helping people, but there are some days where I feel like my efforts just don’t matter or make a difference. In those moments where I feel overwhelmed/invisible, I’m learning to step back, take a deep breath and focus on the positives. 

For RP, I’m glad that I found and stuck with this place. I always think about how lucky it is that I get to talk, read, and write Pokemon and muses with people from all over the world--how a game and a platform can bring everyone together. I’m grateful for everybody who’s followed me at some point along my writing journey, and I’m also grateful for all the talented writers, artists, and creators that I follow (or have yet to follow!) in turn. For everyone keeping up with Clair, Jupiter, and especially with my boy Barry, I--as always--apologize for the sudden disappearances and my Magcargo-esque pace, but I hope my writing has brightened your day even a bit at some point. That’d be enough for me. 

Now that I’ve reached the end of this messy ramble, I’m hesitant to post it, may delete it later, but it feels so good to write everything out, to get everything off my chest just this once. If you’ve made it here, thanks for reading. It’s been a great nine years on this blog so far, and--while I might be taking things at a slower pace moving forward--I’m not stopping just yet. Sinnoh strong. 😤     

[neutinya]

Some relationships are you, a human, with a human partner, and other are you, a human, and your 240cm tall monster bf, but that's okay - !! I included their backstory as well as the setting up of the general context for this AU below the cut so if you’re interested,,, do consider reading it fhdjdj;;; I'm really happy with how this turned out and it's super fun to draw monster tooru and his 4 arms lmao I'm super excited for this AU;;; I really wanna draw more of it dndjjxjd

Iwa is monster-hunter royal blood. However he doesn't want to be heir to the monster hunter shit so he decided to run away the day before his coronation??

As a kid he would play with all the monster animals near the forest which is where he met his lizard familiar and llama ceb. The day he runs away he brings them with him??

The moment he ran away from his kingdom and title as prince he was immediately hunted down by hunters sent by his own family for dishonouring them the Iwaizumi name. Like he's straight up wanted??? ahhh

Somewhere along the way he meets Tooru and they probably wouldn't get along at the start

?? Like they meet at some weird beer house?? And Iwa obviously sticks out because he's human and humans aren't exactly super welcomed because of the history between monsters and humans. Iwa being oblivious to the monster world obviously doesn't realise why this four armed dude won't stop pestering him in spite of his attempts to keep a low profile.

Tooru had approached him because he was sure if he didn't step in, Iwa would have been killed

Iwa was initially extremely resistant to Tooru's "advances" until Tooru whispers into Iwa's ear that "I don't know if you realised but almost every monster in this beer house is staring at you with the intent to kill, so unless you want to leave this place alive, play along and let me get you out of here"

And Iwa just looks around the room and he realises that Tooru was right so he plays along and they try to leave but one of the monsters in the beer house walks up to them and asks Tooru to back off so they could kill Iwa, and Tooru is just like "no can do, he's a friend of mine" and the dude is just like "move." But Tooru is adamant much to the annoyance of the other. A fight kinda breaks out, but much to Iwa's surprise, Tooru managed to take all of them down with ease

As they go aside, Iwa just asks Tooru why doesn't he want to kill him like the rest of the monsters and Tooru is just 🤷🤷🤷🤷🤷 Iwa apologises for causing such a big commotion and getting Tooru involved unnecessarily. Tooru says it's not a problem and Iwa not really having that much money on him, asks if he could return him in some other way? He offers a family heirloom at first but Tooru is just like "Not interested, although how about you let me tag along wherever you're headed?"

Iwa’s response is just "???" Tooru says "look, you aren't getting anywhere in these parts as a human, if I tag along, you won't have to worry too much about being killed and you returned the favour, it's a win win."

So that's how they kinda go off on their journey!!! Iwa actually learns a lot about monsters from Tooru who seemed much more knowledgeable than he looked (no offense to Tooru but that was Hajime’s genuine first impression) There were so many different types of monsters and Iwa was just?? So amazed and almost excited that there were so many things for him to learn and explore??

Like okay they had a bad first impression but he was kinda starting to like Tooru as a companion, listening to way Tooru told all those stories offered him a comfort that he never had back at home

Tooru did most of the talking honestly but Iwa was always intently listening and Tooru could tell he was intrigued and super attentive so he didn’t mind

He did ask Iwa about why he was wandering around in the first place and why the hell was he just traversing across the land with no plan or knowledge of the terrain. Iwa tells Tooru he ran away from his family but neglected to tell Tooru he was of royal monsterhunter blood. Iwa fires back the same question and Tooru responds saying “I get bored of spending all my time in the same old place every day.” neglecting to tell Iwa the fact that he too was of royal blood, the king to one of the many monster kingdoms. (Actually one of the most feared in fact??)

I was thinking the four armed form isn't his real monster form but a less scary version, he's actually a huge fearsome beast but he would walk around in this form to blend with the common folk. This also explains why people don’t recognize him, because if they really knew who he was, they’d be terrified of him.

Tooru is extremely flirty and generally enjoys teasing Hajime. Iwa's lizard does not like Tooru at all. It would be sitting on Iwa's shoulder, breathing small fireballs at Tooru whenever the brunette got too close- For example, when Tooru tries to wrap an arm around Iwa's shoulder or waist, Haji’s lizard would get extremely angry and began attacking him. Tooru is super upset about this tiny little creature preventing him from getting close to his new human companion, but nevertheless, he learns to pick moments where the lizard is asleep to try and engage with Haji

Sidenote, Iwa is a really fucking good archer and good at knives. He may not have had the heart to be a monster hunter, but he definitely had the physical skills to be one if he desired.

Of course there’s a bunch of shenanigans, but honestly speaking there’s also a good amount of sexual tension?? They have a lot of moments where they kinda save each other, whether it be having run ins with unfriendly monsters or humans, to navigating dangerous terrain and making hard decisions;;

They grow to be rather close friends I would dare say;; In fact, for the most part, Tooru would be Iwa's first genuine friend :(( Iwa was never given the luxury of having friends growing up. He spent most of his time training to be a monster hunter or learning about them, which is why he grew super attached to Tooru platonically at first

Once they have a pretty mean run in where Tooru ends up seriously hurt;; Iwa was so scared that he would lose Tooru at that moment;; Tooru fake dies to kinda tease Iwa but he didn't expect Iwa to cry, so as Iwa is there like "don't die on me you idiot-" Tooru "comes back to life" and is all like "awww is Iwa-chan crying because of me?" And Iwa, embarrassed, just punches him in the chest and wipes away his tears like "shut the fuck up asshole"

Tooru is just like "ow- I may not be dead but I'm still kinda hurt you know?" And Iwa feels bad so he just tries to play it off like "that's what you deserve dumbass" before treating Tooru's wounds. They end up spending the night at this cave near a lake where they decided to stay for a few days since Tooru was pretty beat up and the weather was pretty bad

Haji pretty much nursed Tooru back to health, finding berries, herbs and all that during the day in order to make medicine and food

I think at one point Tooru comments "You're really good at this kinda thing huh?" And Iwa is just confused like "good at what?" And Tooru elaborates "taking care of people. Not everyone can make medicine like you do you know?" And Iwa just says it was nothing and he learned most of it from reading when he was a kid

Also like I said the weather was pretty bad so imagine Iwa curling up next to his llama and lizard for warmth. Tooru finds it so fucking adorable??? Clearly the two of them loved Iwa and vice versa, but he couldn't help but feel a little jealous at the sight uxjxhdh

So like one night he just casually says "you guys sure look warm over there" and Iwa just looks at him like 😐

"I gave you my cape you know" and Tooru just "Monsters can't regulate heat like humans do, at least not my species" That was a lie but Iwa didn't know that, so he kinda just looks at Tooru funny before scooting over to Tooru and lying down next to him. His llama and lizard follow, and scoot on Tooru's other side so Tooru is kinda sandwiched in between Haji and the pets. Iwa just mumbles a quiet "now go to sleep dumbass" and Tooru just smiles like a fucking idiot

Iwa quickly dozes off but Tooru not so much, when he was sure Iwa was asleep he gently drapes the cape over Iwa instead before going to bed himself

The next day Iwa is the first to wake up and much to his fucking surprise, he was pretty much incapable of moving because Tooru had somehow wound up hugging him with two of his arms. He was so embarrassed he thought he could die so he could only stay there and not do anything. After while he realises that staying like that could only mean more mental suffering so he slowly tries inching away from Tooru to which he eventually succeeds

He does his morning routine which was to look for berries and herbs because Tooru needed quite a bit of medicine. Tooru was definitely close to being back to his healthy normal self but he still needed to make sure that everything was in check

[perriewinklenerdie]

Married (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 2,4 k

Summary: Parts of Ines’s wedding told from Ethan’s perspective feat. E&C dancing, staring at each other during the wedding, basically being a married couple and everyone calling them out for it. OH3 Chapter 11 added content.

Warnings: None, it’s fluff town all the way

A/N: I feel scammed by PB. All the golden opportunities - wasted. So I fixed it.

His shoes sank a bit in the sand as he began walking towards the venue. More and more people were beginning to arrive, sounds of conversation and laughter increasing by the minute. He recognized his coworkers with ease and approached them. The first to notice him is Tobias, his eyebrow arching slightly at the sight of him.

“You came alone? Where’s Herondale?” he asked, looking over Ethan’s shoulder to search for the blonde resident.

“She helped me fix my tie, then kicked me out of our room. And refused to let me see the dress.” He explained, shrugging with a helpless laugh. Harper laughed along with him, clapping her hands gently.

“That’s wife behavior. Are you sure you two aren’t married?”

“Dude, if you two eloped, I’m not going to be working out with you anymore.” Bryce chimed in, acting as though he was offended, a serious look overtaking his face.

“Where would you- why would you- “ Ethan started stumbling over his words, realizing only after a moment that everyone was smirking at him teasingly. He huffed, fighting a blush that creeped onto his cheeks anyway. “I see. You all think you’re funny.”

“You make it too easy, Ethan.” Harper giggled, shaking her head.

“And we know we’re funny, Ethan.” His mentor put his hand on his shoulder sympathetically.

“Hilarious, even.” Baz added.

A small sound of an incoming message caused everyone to stop talking. Sienna unlocked her phone, her eyes scanning the screen.

“Claire just texted me a photo of her in a dress.”

Immediately, everyone jumped to her side, long before Ethan could even move his finger. Once he woke up from the daze, he took a step towards the young doctor that he considered his friend. Zaid stopped him in his tracks with a hand pressed to his shoulder.

“She said to not let you see the photo.”

“Why?”

Her voice rang from behind him. “I wanted to see your reaction myself.”

Ethan turned around and, at once, his breath caught in his throat. His gaze dropped to her shoes and dragged up her body slowly. The gentle flow of her skirt, pink silk that he knew for sure would almost spill through his fingers. The bodice, snug against her chest, accentuating her curves and making his male brain run wild. Careful to not linger on her chest too long – he would not get crap from their friends for this – he finally looked at her face. She was grinning smugly with a bit of a nervous spark.

He stepped up to her, resting his hand on the dip of her waist, tracing the floral patterns under his touch. With his other hand, he grasped hers in a gentle manner, raising it to press a warm kiss to her fingers.

“You’re taking my breath away.” he muttered, staring at her intensely.

“Hypoxia is dangerous, maybe I should go.” Claire teased, leaning away a fraction of an inch. He immediately pushed on her back to stop her, their personal spaces merging.

“Not having you by my side is fatal.” He dropped his voice to a low rumble, her grin melting into the soft smile. Their lips met in a slow kiss, no heat to it, just pure emotions.

They remained like that for a prolonged moment, his hands carefully pressing her to his chest. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, making their bodies move in a swaying motion.

Jackie burst their bubble. “You, lovebirds, the brides are about to arrive, cut it out.”

Ethan pressed his lips to Claire’s one last time, then leaned away. Their noses brushed against one another as their eyes met. He whispered gently. “I’ll come find you after the ceremony.”

She pecked his cheek sweetly. “Can’t wait.”

--

He wasn’t particularly a fan of weddings. He wasn’t invited to a lot of them, either. If combined with his dislike for big social gatherings, one would come to the conclusion that Ethan Ramsey was miserable right in that moment.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

As Ines and Angie exchange vows and talk about their love for each other, his eyes find Claire. Sitting in her chair across the aisle, she’s holding Sienna’s hand and passing her a tissue. She’s all anyone could ever ask for, and the mere sight of her makes him fall down into the void of memories.

How far he’s come as a person. A cynic that dreaded what a new year would bring along with a new batch of interns. A man that had only two people in his life that he could call friends. A man that went to the bar every night to forget the day behind him, only to go back to his empty apartment. All of that was so long ago that he barely recognized that version of himself anymore. He was so different now.

He smiled more. Laughed, even, and found that he didn’t find stupid jokes Lahela made all the time half as annoying as he once did. He didn’t spend every waking moment at work. Instead, he enjoyed his time off. Still at a bar, but not to drink away his worries. Not alone – not anymore.

Now, he had someone to come home to.

Claire shook her head as she laughed at what Zaid said and Ethan’s heartbeat quickened. They grew together as people too, and along with that, their relationship evolved.

From the night they spent together in the NICU, when her head slowly fell onto his shoulder and he couldn’t find a single cell in his body to tell him to lean away. Because he wanted her to be close. It was the first moment in which he thought that maybe this brilliant woman was meant to be more to him than just an intern – and right after that, he squashed the idea back down.

Every hold of her hand, every silent sign of support, he cherished it all. Unknowingly falling deeper for the woman that would become the center of his universe before he realized what was happening.

Their kiss in Miami would be at the forefront of his mind in his every living second until he kissed her again. Growing stronger with each time his resolve broke and their lips met, softly or with wild abandonment.

The first time he could call her his – the first time he had her to himself. He knew in that moment that he was ruined for everyone else. No one would ever make him feel that way, ever again. He knew it damn well – and yet, he still fought against it.

Absence makes heart grow fonder. He now knew it was true. Months he spent away from her, keeping her at arm’s length, taught him as much. How could he deny those words when the moment he pulled her closer to him outside his apartment and their lips touched, he felt his mind go blank and his heart stop. He vowed to never let her leave again. To never lose her.

And then he almost did.

The thought alone made his muscles spasm, and he was a millisecond away from running to her side, just to feel her warmth and hear her heartbeat. Leaving her side now, even if only for a moment, even to do their job, caused a silent voice to go off in his head. A wave of panic usually followed, staying with him until he saw her again.

Thankfully, nowadays, she was within his reach most of the time. She never asked why he sometimes needed to pull her close and just hold onto her – she knew.

He felt the corners of his lips rise on their own accord. She was radiant in every second of every day. In that moment, she was the most beautiful person there. The idea that it was him that she continuously chose to be with, day after day, only made him smile wider.

This was it for him. He found his one and only, as cliché as that sounded – he knew it for sure. Guess weddings really did make people reflect on love after all.

Ethan was very much aware of how lovestruck he must have been looking in that moment. With his eyes on Claire, he was a picture of a man in love – and he was finally ready to admit that he was. He loved her.

Almost as though she could hear his thoughts, she turned around to look at him. Their eyes met and a brilliant smile bloomed on her face. His lips moved as he mouthed the words, her smile becoming gentler.

“I’m yours.”

She mouthed it right back to him.

--

Music wasn’t as obnoxious as he anticipated it to be. That didn’t, of course, mean that he condoned every dance move he saw the guests do. He decided to not complain, though – it was a day to be happy, he wouldn’t bring anyone down with his opinion on their questionable choices of moves.

Currently, he was seated by the table, nursing his whiskey. Mirani twins, Tobias and Naveen sat beside him, all five men watching their colleagues party with wine glasses in their hands.

“How long, do you think, will it take for one of them to break a glass?” Baz asked, leaning out of his seat to see his friends better. Zaid grinned, taking a sip of his drink.

“Any second now. And my bet is on Varma.”

“Why?” Tobias’s face twisted in confusion as he turned towards him, intrigued. Zaid shrugged.

“Because she can.”

Ethan tuned their conversation out, choosing instead to look at his girlfriend. She danced with Sienna, laughing as they sang along to the song. Her dress moved with her, flowing through the air elegantly. He felt the urge to stand up and walk up to her.

“Ramsey, you do know you can just walk up to her instead of sitting here and pining for her, right?” Tobias snickered, punching Ethan’s shoulder playfully. He scoffed, leaning away with a hint of a burn in his cheeks.

“I’m not pining for her.”

“You are.” All four of his companions replied.

He was so distracted by their words that he failed to notice an approaching form. Her hand landed on his shoulder softly, the tips of her nails scratching the back of his neck. Knowing who it was, he leaned into her touch, breathing out deeply.

“Sorry, gentlemen, but I’m stealing him.” she mused happily, dragging her hand down his arm until her fingers tangled with his. Ethan let her pull her up, looping his arm around her waist.

“Stealing is bad, Herondale.” Tobias shot back, moving his eyebrows suggestively at the couple. Claire opened her mouth to speak, but Ethan beat her to the punch.

“She can’t steal something that’s already hers.” He grinned at them, then turned towards her. Claire’s jaw dropped in surprise at his boldness, her posture softening enough for him to pull her away from the table, smirking. Faintly, he heard Tobias’s words.

“Married. For sure.”

Ethan’s arms wrapped around her, fingers hooked onto her hipbones. She threw her arms around his neck, staring up at him with a soft smile. A slow song began playing and one look at where the DJ was situated told them who was behind this change. Ines grinned at them, giving them thumbs up and a cheeky wink.

“Is it just me, or is everyone trying to tell us something?” Claire giggled, nuzzling her nose against his jaw. He kissed her nose gently.

“So, you noticed it too?”

“Kinda hard not to. Girls said we’re acting like a married couple at least twice today.” she traced the lapel of his jacket, laughing quietly at the recognition in his eyes.

“Guys did it too.” Ethan muttered, tightening his hold on her. She laid her head on his shoulder.

“And how does that make you feel?”

He was silent for a long while. They swayed to the song, tuning out everything else. To her surprise, he didn’t tense up – nothing about his posture spelled out the doubts he once told her he had.

“Not as terrified as it did before.”

Claire leaned back to look at him. Their eyes met, tender understanding in them. Ethan leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss, perfectly soft and not nearly deep enough. She clutched his lapel in her fist, creasing the fabric with how strong her pull was. His fingers dug into her back, skipping past the coarser material of her bodice and gripping the soft silk of her skirt. A voice in the back of his head told him to loosen up the hold or he’ll mark the fabric, but the overwhelming need he felt for her overshadowed everything else and he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.

The song ended and with it, their kiss. Foreheads pressed together, they caught their breath, standing in the middle of the dancefloor. Blissfully unaware of how much attention they gathered with their tender moment.

Ethan opened his eyes and finally allowed his mind to register the music again. Some sort of a fast tune that made people around them go mad. His girlfriend stared at him with an unspoken question, and he got the meaning perfectly well.

With a definite move, he dipped her onto the floor. She giggled, the sound breaking through the loud music to reach his ears. Ethan smirked, throwing her back into his arms. With his lips against her ear, he mused hotly.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Her leg wrapped around his thigh, pushing their bodies closer. His voice broke off and his breath shuddered at the way their bodies clashed and the suggestive smirk she sent his way. His hand fell to her ass, all inhibitions gone.

“Ethan!” she exclaimed, laughing at the carefree smile he gave her. He moved his hand a bit, albeit begrudgingly.

“Can you blame me? You’re irresistible.” He muttered, kissing the shell of her ear. Claire hummed, then twirled out of his hold and back into it, jumping into his arms with her legs wrapped around his hips. Ethan groaned deeply in his throat, making her smirk.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve too.”

Notes

This is a part 2 to the Mile High Club fic. As I said, PB could have made the chapter so good with all the wedding themes that I’d lose my wig. Writers apparently don’t know how to do basic research into fiction themes, but that’s okay (kinda). It just means I have more material to work with.

Round two smut is coming soon. 

Thank you for reading! <3

Tagging separately

[hawkland]

My (mostly) Destiel Recs, Round-up #6

Well, between working like crazy on my DCBB fic and GISH and injuring my neck last month I haven’t kept up with my rec posts, so this one is going to be LONG and have a LOT and I’m going to try to break it up into sections, from oldies but goodies (some things I found on very old rec lists) to smutty delights to just tasty little bits of fluff, hopefully there’s something or everyone here. Most of these are not super-long, largely in the 10-25k range, though there are a few beyond that. With all the stuff I’ve had going on I haven’t wanted to lose sleep diving into 100k epics (especially when I’m writing my own right now, lol.)

“Oldies” but Goodies:  Here are two great fics written some time way back when but that still definitely slap.

Theodicy by manic_intent (11k) - Probably the most brilliant Godstiel fic I’ve read to date. One of Cas’s first acts as the new god is to make a new archangel. Dean isn’t exactly on board with having his soul re-sculpted into wings he hates on sight (especially as they seem magnetically drawn to Cas), but he isn’t exactly given a choice. He, Sam and Bobby struggle with how to handle their former friend suddenly becoming a vindictive deity - trying to make plans to kill him if they must, which is pretty hard when it seems like Cas is always one step ahead of him. Can Dean hold on to enough of his humanity to provide a conscience to Cas and try to steer him toward good acts instead of destruction? This is one that I can’t say has a perfectly happy ending, but it’s a hopeful and imperfect one that’s just right for how the story plays out. 

My Eyes Are An Ocean by entanglednow (10k) - Season 5 AU where Dean averts the apocalypse through a spell that “powers up” all the angels and he sees Cas’s true form - before being rendered blind. Dean tries to adjust to his blindness, Cas tries to deal with his guilt, and it’s just a lovely little read with an ending that’s... *chef’s kiss*

Lots more recs below the cut:

More great reads from some of my favorite authors I’ve recced before:

The Cabin on the Lake by DeanRH (21k) - This may be my new favorite DeanRH fic...at least for the moment. The year is 2152, Sam and Dean are long gone to Heaven, while Cas - stuck somewhere between mortal and angel - remains on Earth keeping vigil, keeping up the hunt, assuming he’ll never see either Winchester ever again. But when he starts hearing things, and imagining Dean visiting him as an angel himself, he starts losing grip on what is and isn’t real, and whether he can trust anything he sees or believes to be the truth. This is one hell of a psychological rollercoaster that kept me guessing right along with Cas until the very end. It also has some super-creepy horror elements, a novel “monster of the week”, and the hot-as-sin smut scenes I always expect from this author.

X Marks the Scot by DeanRH (15.9k) A fun little romp through history in one of this author’s great not-quite-au fics. Crowley sends Dean and Sam back in history to the Scottish Highlands to stop a monster, and while there they meet a blue-eyed clan chief who makes Dean weak in the knees. There’s something familiar about him, too. a very clever au that ties back to canon for an unexpected fix-it. Also, Cas in a kilt. Enough said.

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon by DeanRH (12k) - Sweet and slightly angsty AU. What if Dean was a gardener in ancient Babylon when a strange dignitary came to warn that the tower under construction was to be destroyed by angels? Lush, romantic and sexy with some wonderful tie-ins to canon characterizations (of Dean, Sam, John and of course Cas).

sufficient for thee by angelfishofthelord (21k) - This is a beautiful Cas angst-fest and character study that reimagines how angel grace works, particularly in regards to healing others. It covers the whole of Cas’s arc from Season 4 through a post-series fix-it, is absolutely stunning and features some great world-building in regards to the angels. (One important TW: those with cutting/self-harm issues may wish to skip or at least proceed with caution). I love that I can always count on angelfishofthelord when I need a good dose of Cas!whump and pain.

And laugh at gilded butterflies by ireallydidthistomyself (13k) - another great Dadstiel fic from this author featuring one of my favorite angsty subjects! I don’t know how I missed reading this one before. An AU where Cas is raising (baby)Jack on his own until the angels find the two of them and prepare to seal Jack away in the Ma’lak box. Cas begs them to let him go with Jack, so at least Jack won’t be alone for eternity. Meanwhile Dean is frantically trying to find what happened to Cas, and he gets some unexpected help from Crowley.  It’s sad and sweet and all the characterizations are great. A+ Crowley use here, too.

what stays (and what fades away) by dothraki_shieldmaiden (64k) - a fabulous read with some great art, too, that started me reading a bunch of fic from this author. Cas goes missing, and when he’s found he seems deep under a spell. When they finally manage to awaken him, he doesn’t remember anything of this life with Dean, Sam and Cas in the bunker. The last thing he knew he was a nurse living with his wonderful husband, Dean, and their two adopted children, Jack and Claire. What I loved about this one was the clever twist as to who was behind Cas’s curse and also how well-developed his AU world/existence was. I’m not generally keen on mundane aus or the one-dimensional way a lot of djinn dream fics tend to go for them, but this one managed to capture a believable version of Dean and Cas living a “normal” life without monsters without making it sugary/too-sweet. 

before knowing remembers by dothraki_shieldmaiden (14k) Post 15x04, a wonderful fic that plays with some meta topics in a clever way. Dean and Sam are happy - they have free will and they’ve won against Chuck, even if they suffered some big losses along the way (including Jack). But Dean can’t help but think he’s forgetting something...or rather, someone. Yet every time he thinks he remembers, the name and face of that someone slips from his mind. 

weights on my ankles by dothraki_shieldmaiden (9k) Post-15x03 where Cas ends up going back to the Gas ‘n Sip and working with Nora after leaving the bunker. A bitter sweet divorce-arc AU and what I love the most is how it ends - not perfect, not tragic, just very real and believable. 

15x18 and Post-canon fix-it fics:

Orbital Velocity Around a Celestial Body by LeverDrift (26k) - An angsty but lovely fix-it fic, one where it gets worse for a while before it gets better. Dean pulls Cas from the Empty, where he’d been living in a fantasy world with a dream!Dean who was giving him everything real!Dean is certain he can’t. Dean has to struggle with wondering if Cas would have been better off with dream!Dean instead of him. This is one that will break your heart before putting it back together again as Dean struggles with his self-worth issues.

so good at crashing in by Wintertree (36k) - Another post-finale fix-it where Cas is back, the world is saved, and things are still...not as easy as it should be for either Dean nor Cas. Monsters are gone, there’s no more hunting to be done, and Cas wants to move out of the bunker somewhere closer to Claire, to move on with a proper human life. Dean thinks he can move there with Cas and stay as “best friends”, even to the extent that Cas encourages him to go out and have sex with others/women. (And wants to hear about it after the fact!) But can Dean figure out what he really wants, and what Cas wants as well? A refreshingly unique take on what a post-series life could have looked like for them.

Delicious smut:

Empty by squirrelofcelestialintent (43k) - Every day this fandom makes me rethink my previous squicks and DNWs in fanfic. Here I find myself enjoying quite a bit more dom/sub elements than I normally ever would! I think because I was absolutely drawn in by the breathtaking first chapter, capturing beautifully the emotions of Cas returning from the Empty in Season 13 if he and Dean had confessed their feelings right then and there. But Dean’s self-worth is all fucked up, he feels there’s no way he can be good enough for Cas, especially when his sexual desires run a little bit...let’s just say outside the vanilla and he’s struggling with shame over doing sex work when he was younger. This was HOT and POOR SAM really gets stuck in the middle of, well, hearing more about his brother’s sex life than he ever needed to.

He's My Mate by Hatsonhamburgers (22k) - This fic manages the delightful combination of humor and extreme hotness perfectly. Dean and Cas catch each other in some questionable masturbation situations. This leads Cas to decide he needs to buy Dean some proper sex toys. He’s just helping his best friend out, right? Sure. As I said, hysterical AND hot as hell. 

Generals by nanoochka (9k) - Cas/Dean, Cas/Balthazar/Dean, implied past-Cas/Balthazar. An old LJ fic I found on an ancient rec list that is just scorching hot and a brilliant character study of Cas and Dean. Balthazar decides to invite himself in when he catches Dean and Cas engaging in some frisky business, and it turns into a bit of a power-play between the two soldiers of Heaven. Cas gets DP’ed and it’s all...well. It’s fucking good, read it.

The One With The Preening by HolyFuckingHell (5.5k) Can I do a rec post without including some wing!kink/wing!grooming in it? No, I can’t. (I also really enjoyed some of the other fics in this author’s series including The One With Dean's Horny Movies).

A Single Point of Light by Destina (2.4k) - This is a gorgeous Cas/Dean/Benny Purgatory short! A delicious balance of the two each caring for and caring about Dean in their own, protective ways, definitely a delight for any fans of this threesome.

Short and sweet, fluff to angst:

Snugglebird by almaasi (5.3k) - So, so soft and sweet and snuggly, just like the title. Dean’s things are disappearing from the bunker...and so, suddenly, has Cas. What’s going on? I do love my nesting!Cas fics, so...yeah. If you need a smile this is a good one to read :)

And Cleanse Me From My Sin by thisisapaige (1.6k) - another one for my beloveds who also enjoy wing grooming and sweet Dean-taking-care-of-Cas fluff.

Needle and Thread by Misachan (4k) - Season 5 wing!fic hurt/comfort. Cas’s wings are badly injured, Dean doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s stitched up Sam and himself enough times. He can do this. If you love caretaker!Dean and vulnerable!Cas don’t overlook this little gem.

Deceptive Preludes by sp8ce (2.7k) - One of those stories that delves into some of the difficulties Cas might have after coming back from the Empty a second time, especially in regards to accepting what’s real or not, understanding Dean, and how both of their communication issues can add to their struggles. Painful but hopeful for the future, felt very believable as I read it.

[potionsprefect]

One Split Second

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: An incident in the hospital sends shockwaves

Rating: T

Category: angst/trauma (but there’s a happy ending)

Victoria Clarke walked the corridors of Bloom Edenbrook, smiling to fellow doctors and nurses who were attending to patients. She headed over to the admin desk to pick up a new patient chart, having previously discharged her last one.

“Hi Ines. Any interesting cases come in today?” Victoria asked as she approached the doctor.

“Hiya Victoria. Take your pick. The sooner we discharge these patients, the better. How’s the wedding planning coming along?” Ines replied brightly.

“We’re getting there. These last few months are stressful making sure everything’s in order. I’ve already fallen out with my sister-in-law twice over my nieces bridesmaid dress.” Victoria sighed.

“Oh no. I’m sorry to hear that. What was it over? Angie had a similar problem with hers and opted for none in the end!” Ines laughed slightly.

“I wanted my niece Isabella to wear a headband on the day but my sister-in-law disagreed saying she would find it itchy. She wanted her to wear a flower crown but I’m not a big fan of those. This was two weeks ago and we haven’t really spoken since.” Victoria sighed.

Victoria loved her sister in law Erin but she really wished she had listened to what she was trying to point out. Erin was adamant that Isabella wouldn’t wear the headband but Victoria had said she had worn them before. Erin said she knew her daughter best and that she wouldn’t wear one and Victoria couldn’t persuade her. They hadn’t spoken since.

“Oh I’m sorry. Nine times out of ten the stress leading up to a wedding is usually always something to do with bridesmaids. But all of that won’t spoil your big day! I’m so excited for you!”

“Thanks Ines.” Victoria smiled.

“Instead of taking your pick, I’ve got one case here for you.” Ines pointed to the whiteboard. “It’s just been assigned to you which I found a little strange but I guess it’s nothing abnormal. Here’s the chart.” Ines handed Victoria a standard looking chart.

“Thanks Ines” Victoria smiled as she walked off down the corridor and into the elevator to see the said patient.

Her route to the patients room took her past her fiancé’s office. She saw him through the window, working away at the laptop in front of him. Victoria made a mental note to go visit him once she has assessed her new patient.

Finding the correct room, Victoria opened the door and noticed the curtains were drawn around the bed.

“Mr Embleton?” Victoria pulled back the curtain and froze in her steps.

“Well well well. Hello Victoria. What a nice surprise seeing you here.” A young man smirked from his bedside.

“George Embleton?! What are you doing here?” Victoria stepped back.

“What does it look like I’m doing here? I’ve injured my leg. I need stitches.” George pointed to his leg. “And you’re going to be the one to do it.”

“Why me?”

“Because I said so.” George replied.

Victoria eyed the young man she had once been at school with. He had always been a nasty piece of work. What was he doing in Boston?

Victoria grabbed the suturing kit and pulled up a stool and set to work on stitching George’s leg. Victoria could just see out the corner of his eye him watching her, almost as if he was waiting for her to make a mistake.

“So what are you doing here in Boston?”

“A simple hello would’ve sufficed. But as you’re clearly so desperate, I’m here for a conference. Not that it’s any of your business.” George replied.

“Part of my job is to make conversation to keep the patients at ease, whether I know them or not is irrelevant.” Victoria replied not looking up from her work.

“You always were a mouthy little cow at school, shame your attitude hasn’t changed.”

“And you’re still treating me like you did all these years later. And for the record, the Wilkinson School of Dancing thought I was amazing, no matter what your little friends told you.” Victoria looked up at him.

“Keep telling yourself that Clarke, I’m not the one who fumbled up a big performance.” George shrugged.

“Only after you shouted out that you’d seen less fat on a piece of steak than my thighs.” Victoria said eyes burning with tears.

Dance used to be her life. She thought about becoming a professional dancer instead of a doctor but that one performance shattered her confidence that she never danced in front of an audience again.

“Wasn’t lying though was I?”

“Not even your friends could persuade you to dial it down a bit. Did someone hurt you in another life and you were reborn so you could be hellbent on getting revenge?” Victoria hit back. He wasn’t going to come here and terrorise her. Not now and not ever.

“Shut your mouth.” George snapped.

“Luckily for you I will. Because I’m done. I’ll get you your discharge paper and you can get the hell out of here so I never have to see your face again.” Victoria said standing up.

As Victoria turned her back, what she didn’t know was that George had a lighter in his hand and a cigarette in the other. She also didn’t notice when she originally walked into the room that he had an IV in his arm.

What happened next, seemed to happen in slow motion. George flicked the lighter and Victoria found herself thrown to the floor, her ears ringing, vision blurry, she could just about make out an orange flame before everything went black

— — — — —

Ethan headed down the stairs, a small spring in his step. Life really couldn’t be much better. He was about to marry the love of his life in a few months and he was looking forward to starting a new life with her.

“Doctor Ramsey!” A voice called behind him. Ethan turned round to see Sienna walking towards him, chart in hand.

“Doctor Trinh.” Ethan nodded as she came and stood next to him.

“I just wanted to check that you are ok. Victoria mentioned she was having a slight disagreement with her sister in law over wedding planning and I wanted to check that you’re not caught in the middle.”

“That’s very kind of you Sienna.” Ethan chuckled.

“Just trying to be a better person every chance I get.” Sienna shrugged.

“There’s a lot of people out in the world who would be grateful for you checking up on them. I am definitely one of them.” Ethan smiled.

“Thank you. So tell me. Has the storm weathered or are the clouds still rolling?” Sienna laughed a little.

“To be honest it’s just raining at this point. They haven’t spoken since but the storm clouds have evaporated. William and I are trying to make peace but Erin is standing firm by her decision.” Ethan sighed.

“I’m sure she’ll come around. It’s Victoria’s and your wedding in the end. What Victoria wants should be the final decision.” Sienna said.

“I hope so. I just don’t want that to overshadow the big day.”

“It won’t. All that matters that day is you two and your happiness. Besides, we’ve all been planning a special present for the two of you so even if the wedding goes wrong, you’ll have something to cheer you up.” Sienna laughed a little.

“Thanks Sienna, although I hope-“

BOOM!

The noise was deafening. Everyone within a few feet of the blast were thrown off their feet. Glass shattered everywhere and there was the smell of smoke and a bright orange flame.

Ethan lifted his head and saw others slowly getting to their feet. He looked round and saw Sienna lying a few feet away, covered in blood.

“Sienna! Are you okay?” Ethan moved over to her, helping her get to her feet.

“Yeah I think so. Is that blood?” She felt her forehead and felt something sticky. “Oh god.”

“Go and get yourself cleaned up.” Ethan said.

“No no I’m okay. I’ll be fine.” Sienna insisted. “Where did this explosion come from?”

“I don’t know. We need to open this door.” Ethan said.

He decided to break the door down not knowing what to expect behind it. Once he kicked the door off it’s hinges his heart stopped.

There on the floor, laid his beautiful fiancé. Ethan dropped to his knees and cradled her head in his hands, tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh my god!” Sienna cried. “I’ll go grab a gurney!” She hurried off and came back with two nurses who were pushing a gurney.

“Do blood work and get her vitals. And we need a head CT just to be sure.” Ethan barked as he picked up his soon to be bride and laid her gently on the gurney.

“Got it, we’ll look after her.” Sienna reassured him. She knew he wanted to stay but his anger was high. He needed to stay calm and seeing Victoria how she was wasn’t going to help anyone.

“Sienna-“

“No Ethan. She’ll be okay. She’s in safe hands. Help others who are injured and find out what the hell has happened.” Sienna instructed as she wheeled Victoria away to a trauma room.

Ethan watched her be wheeled away by the nurses, panic still rushing though his veins. His thoughts were interrupted by an object approaching him out the corner of his eye.

“I am here to help. Please do not interfere with my work.” Binx’s cheery voice echoed.

“Yes yes carry on you overgrown pile of nuisance.” Ethan huffed.

“You sound angry. I am trained to-“

Ethan punched him.

— — — — —

The bright lights were beginning to irritate her, voices swarmed around, not to mention the pounding as if someone was hitting her head with a hammer.

“I think she’s waking up!” A familiar voice said. Victoria opened her eyes to see a dozen pair of eyes looking down at her.

“Victoria? Can you hear me?” Sienna voice said.

“Yeah I... what happened?” Victoria said groggily.

“There was an explosion in one of the rooms. Luckily you’re not too badly injured.” Sienna replied.

“Shame about the other guy.” Jackie said.

“Other guy?” Victoria asked. Then it hit her. “Oh my god! My patient!” Victoria sat up.

“Woah Vic calm down! He’s okay. Well kind of. He wasn’t badly injured, but he was arrested.” Bryce said from the foot of the bed.

“What?!”

“Yeah it turns out the saline bags had ether in them, one spark and then everything just blew up. He apparently had a lighter in his pocket.” Elijah said.

“He said he knew you. Who was he?” Rafael asked from where he was sat.

“I... I went to school with him. He used to bully me relentless.” Victoria sighed.

“So how comes you were assigned to him?” Sienna asked.

“I may have an answer to that.” Jackie said. Everyone looked at her as she turned to Victoria, looking at her sympathetically. “You know the lab technician Eliza Fitzgerald? Turns out they’re cousins. She was the one who put the saline bags in even though he didn’t require them. And she put your name on the board at his request. They’re both in custody now.”

“But why?” Bryce said.

“Because he hates me. And he clearly wanted to step everything up a notch.” Victoria said tears rolling down her face.

“We’d never let anyone hurt you. You’ll always have us and Ethan.” Sienna put an arm around her.

“Speaking of Ethan why isn’t he round my bedside? And where’s Aurora?”

“Patching up your fiancées hand. He and Binx had an unfortunate encounter earlier.” Elijah chuckled.

“It was quite a sight to see.” Rafael laughed.

“He’s also barking out orders to the hospital board about employee safety. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Naveen look so wary of him.” Jackie said.

“I’ve made a mental note to never cross Ramsey’s path.” Bryce chuckled.

“I’ll page him, we’ll come by and see you tomorrow.” Sienna gave Victoria a hug. The rest of the group filtered out the room as Victoria gazed out into the dark sky, the city sparkling under the moonlight.

“You need to stop scaring me Rookie.” A voice suddenly said. Victoria looked towards the door to see her fiancée hurrying over to her bed, wrapping her up in his arms when he got close enough.

“I’m so sorry Ethan.” Victoria sighed leaning into his embrace.

“What on earth are you apologising for? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Ethan said kissing her cheek, running a hand through her hair. “Dr Varma explained everything to me.”

“I thought I could handle it. I had no idea what he was doing.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. He’s locked up, far away from you, he can’t hurt you again.”

“I know and I’m glad. Although from what I’ve heard, it sounds like I’m not the only one who ran into an old foe today.” Victoria chuckled slightly, picking up Ethan’s hand that was wrapped in a bandage and kissed it.

“That calculator made its final equation.” Ethan chuckled resting his chin on top of Victoria’s head.

“I wish I was there to see it.” Victoria smiled.

“You wouldn’t have stopped talking about it for weeks.”

“Of course. And I think everyone would be gossiping as well. I heard you went to the boards and gave them a tough time.”

“I did what I was obliged to do, not just as your fiancé but as your boss. Our doctors should be safe when they are in work, everything could’ve ended up so different tonight.” Ethan sighed.

“Luckily it didn’t.” Victoria smiled.

“Indeed. I love you, you know.” Ethan looked at her, cupping her face in his hands.

“I love you too. I can’t wait to marry you.” Victoria smiled.

“And I can’t wait to marry you.” Ethan smiled kissing her passionately. The two began to lose themselves in each other’s kiss before the vibrating of a phone forced them to break apart.

“Who’s that?” Ethan kissed her cheek, nuzzling his nose there.

“It’s Erin.” Victoria said confused. “You were right, I’m sorry.” She looked at Ethan.

“Sounds like she’s willing to compromise about the headband.” Ethan chuckled tightening his arms around her.

“Sounds like she is.” Victoria stared at her phone.

“Come on, you need sleep.” Ethan took her phone and put it away and forced Victoria to lie down before he laid down next to her.

“Are you staying the night?” Victoria looked up at him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Ethan replied.

“Good. I want a cuddle.”

“You always want a cuddle.”

“You give the best cuddles, I always want more.”

The couple drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

— — — — —

Well that was a ride! But we love a happy ending!

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[heavenunderthemoon]

Pinky Promise {Jennifer Jareau x daughter! reader}

Summary: JJ, coming from a small town with hardly any sexual education that wasn't abstinence- centric, found herself pregnant. You, her daughter, await her return from another case leading to an interesting conversation between the Jareau girls when she arrives home. 

Warnings: teenage pregnancy, extreme fluff

Author’s note: I have a lot of content ideas for this concept so should I just post a lot of blurbs? Idk let me know what y'all think. Also, I didn't put an age for the reader in here because I don't want to exclude anyone so if you are looking for one you won’t find it, anyways enjoy lovelies<3

Rainbow sock clad feet pattered against the house's carpeted floors, the small two bedroom home quiet in the early morning hours.

Typically, you didn't wake this early. You had far outgrown the age in which your internal clock matched that of the rising sun. Your mother attributed your abnormal sleep schedule to the amount of coffee you drank, though you simply pointed the finger right back at her. You learned your caffeine addiction from the best, after all.

No, you didn't normall wake up this early but this morning you had because today was Tuesday. Tuesday's typically help very little importance. You had school, of course, soccer practice afterward and then homework until it was time for bed (very riveting). But this Tuesday was different because it had been precisely five days that your mother had been gone and she had called last night to tell you that she would be home by the time you woke up.

Your first response had been that you would stay up, waiting for her until she arrived. Sometimes you could get away with that. If the jet landed around nine she didn't mind you pushing back your sleep schedule just for her. But, she was still your mother and she still had her limitations. It'll be too late, your mother had whispered into the line, afraid of waking her coworkers. You had protested, but the sleepy yawns had made you sigh defeatedly, telling her to be safe before giving in to your fatigue.

But, none of that mattered now, because as your hand pushed open the door to your mother's bedroom, you recognized the lump underneath the blankets strewn across the bed. You had taken up knitting over the past year- when your mother was gone Garcia was typically tasked with checking in or even staying the night at times and she had taught you the skill. A tuft of blonde hair peeked out from one side of the bed and you grinned tiredly, not hesitating to climb onto the queen sized mattress.

You remembered those days not too many years ago. The days before your mother had gotten her job at the BAU, still struggling as a single mother in school, supporting her child all by herself. The days that had you two sharing beds in a teeny-tiny apartment. You hadn't minded all too much and, though you probably wouldn't admit it aloud, you missed it sometimes, falling asleep in her arms.

As you clambered into the sheets your mother's eyes fluttered open, a lazy smile coming onto her features. She looked as she always did after coming home from cases- tired, drained, but happy to see you. She turned her body to face you, a deep breath being exhaled as she pulled you into her side, a soft kiss being placed onto your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling, humming in response.

"Hi, baby." Her words were jumbled, exhaustion seeping through her tone but she smiled all the same, keeping her forehead connected with yours while she caressed your cheek.

She recalled all those years ago, discovering she was pregnant in that small town of hers. The scandal of her teen pregnancy had been the talk of the town up until the moment she left, and then hardships bigger than gossip had come. Having you, alone with no support system, clutching the hand of the kind nurse at the hospital. The small apartments, intense couponing, food stamps, and learning to sew baby clothes to save costs. So many years of struggling and she wouldn't trade a second of it because it had given her you.

Her daughter. A sweet, and funny, and kind girl who was more like her best friend than her kid. The kind of girl she called at least twice a day when on a case, wanting to hear every single detail about her daughter's day and answered when you asked about hers.

"I missed you." You whispered back, voice raspy from sleep. "How was the case?" You asked even if you knew you wouldn't get all the details.

"Hard, but it's over." The blonde responded truthfully, relief taking over her features and her eyes suddenly lit up, as if just remembering something. "How did your essay go? Total hit? Book deals completely flooding our mailbox?" She teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head at her goofiness.

"A-plus." You boated before wiggling your eyebrows. "No book deals yet, but I'll keep my ear to the ground." You quipped back and she laughed, heaving a small sigh afterward.

Staring at you, only a small amount of light from her sun-shaped nightlight (she had a weird obsession with the sun that you liked to tease her for, buying her sun shaped everything - even a spoon that she always used to eat cereal with). It provided just enough light to see your eyes staring back at her, the eyes that she had created with that old boyfriend of hers in high school, the teenage boy skipping town as soon as she had told him the news. She recalled seeing those eyes when you were born, solidifying the love she had felt growing as each day had passed with you in her belly. The eyes that, as soon as they had opened, your mouth opening to let out that beautiful, ear splitting, heart wrenching wail that signified your entrance into the world, had made her fall in love so deeply she felt she was being crushed under the weight of it all.

Guilt ate at her, as it always did. Guilt for not being the perfect, PTA-mom. The mom who made home-made muffins for bake sales or drove you to school everyday. She wasn't negligent, not in the slightest. She knew that. But part of her always feared that you might resent her for the certain spots that she could never quite fill.

"Do you hate me? For not being here all the time?" Jennifer voiced her concerns quietly, and the mere tone of her words made you pause because she seldom took that tone with you. A tone that showed just how afraid she was of her daughter's resentment, a resentment that could easily be caused by how little she was home.

The question alone made you furrow your brows, not hesitating to answer. "What? No!" And you were sitting up because how could you possibly hate her? How could you hate your mother? Your mother who had kept you safe, done everything in her power to make sure you remained that way. The mother who, yes, missed a couple things over the years but always made sure she was there on your birthday and holidays and the really, really important things. You recalled her tradition every year, swinging open your door at the exact moment you were born, regardless of the early hour, and singing you awake. A tiny cupcake in her hand (store-bought because, as discussed, she was an awful cook), a flickering sparkle candle (was a candle really a candle without sparkles?). That look that she gave you under the dimness of that flame, the look that said that she would do anything, go anywhere, be anyone for you. The look that made you know you were safe, and that even if she told you to make a wish you wouldn't even need to make one because you had everything you could ask for.

Jennifer sat up, her hand going to her distressed daughter's back, watching the pure horror on her face.

"I don't hate you, why would I hate you-" You were distraught, voice an octave higher and she shushed you softly, apologizing at once.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry-"

You turned back to her, tilting your head. "Why would you even think that?"

Your eyes scanned her face for any clues while you awaited your answer. She might have been the profiler but you knew your mother. You knew that she absolutely could not go anywhere with mismatched socks. Or that she hated avocado (the texture freaked her out). You knew that, after growing up on a farm, she knew the ins and outs of farm life (she liked to call you a city girl when teasing you and you called her chicken Joe just to get even). You knew that after years of scrimping on luxurious things she still wouldn't allow herself to buy nice things for herself, only for you. And you knew that, being that she was a media liaison, communicating was one of her best traits. So, you listened carefully.

She sighed, scooting to put her back against the headboard, reaching out to pull on the string that would turn on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room, before motioning for you to join her. Her arm stayed out, allowing you to snuggle in, your head falling onto her shoulder before she answered.

"I'm your mom. I'm supposed to be here." she said, eyes trained on the blanket you had made for her last month. You were getting better, this one hadn't yet fallen apart, but it was still a subpar attempt, despite what Garcia had told you.

"You are here." You tried, but the blonde was shaking her head. She had changed from her work clothes, the aforementioned outfit lying abandoned on the floor, the only spot in a very clean room. Her hair that she almost always had down was thrown into a bun and a few pieces lay forgotten in the front, tickling your cheek when she shook her head.

"No, I'm not. I'm on a jet every week, thousands of miles away from my daughter, thinking about what she's doing and who she's with and I feel like I'm missing everything important. And I don't want you to hate me-"

"I could never hate you." You cut her off, and you moved once more, making sure she was looking into your eyes because as much as you knew her, you also knew that she would never really believe you, not about this, and the eye contact would help in the slightest. "You go away every week because those people need you. You go help the people who need you, just like you help me when I need you." She went to protest, but you continued. "And just because you aren't here, doesn't mean you're not here. You're like Patrick Swayze in Ghost, okay? It's like I can still feel your presence-"

Your teasing made her let out a sad chuckle, sighing softly. You smiled at the sound, grabbing her hand.

"I mean it, kid. We're in this for the long haul." You narrowed your eyes playfully, bringing up a pinky.

She smiled and, for just a moment, she could look at you and see the baby she had raised. The small, premature baby that had clutched onto her finger, as if telling her they would make it through the night. The toddler who had turned up her nose at peas, exclusively eating pureed carrots for three months straight. The five year old who had begged her to learn how to ride a bike and then immediately pleaded for her to not let go of the back. 'If you let go, I'll die, I'm sure of it.' You informed seriously. The eight year old reading books twice the normal reading level, or the ten year old adorned in a scarecrow costume, passed out on the couch from eating too much candy. The thirteen year old who had suddenly hit a growth spurt, all your jeans high-watered that she would replace because you would never outright ask for new jeans. And now the you in front of her. The cool, thoughtful, amazing kid that she would never quite understand how she had deserved you.

Bringing her pinky up to yours, interlocking it. "Okay. But, you know that if you ever do resent me- and I'm talking, Mother dearest level kind of resentment you have to tell me so that I can at least play my part."

You smiled, scooting back to your place in her arms. "That takes the fun away."

It was silent for another moment, only the crickets chirping in the backyard heard, before she was speaking once more. "You know, I'm supposed to be the one reassuring you. My old age is making me emotional."

You let your body slump against hers. "We can take turns. If I let you bear that weight alone you might break a hip."

She scoffed, nudging your body. 'Ha-ha, very funny. how about I take Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and you take Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

Your eyes fluttered shut, despite knowing that even with it being far too early for you both to be up there was no way you were going back to sleep. "What about Saturdays and Sundays?"

Jennifer closed her eyes as well, trying to engrain the feeling of your body in her arms while she still had the chance. Before you found cuddling with your mom weird, or before she had to go away on another case and fall asleep alone and in a hotel bed.

"We'll flip a coin for it."

"Fair enough."

[drariellevalentine]

A prompt where mc is unconscious in Ethan's arms.

Oof. This one really broke my heart.

This Is Me Trying

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Warnings:- angst. Major heart wrenching angst.

Takes place during the events of OHSY’s Chapter 5.

Song inspiration:- Folklore by Taylor Swift (I was listening to it on repeat the whole time)

Arielle’s PoV:-

Just when you’re about to take a break, you get paged by Eth- Dr. Ramsey. With a sigh, you turn around and walk towards the diagnostics office.

You step inside the diagnostics office as the glass doors open with a hiss to see Dr. Ramsey pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes?”

He looks up, anger and irritation clear in his face. “I thought you had at least a bit of maturity but I can see that I was wrong.” You stifle the urge to roll your eyes.

“What did I do?”, you ask trying to keep your voice as level as possible noticing that June and Baz are in the room.

As soon as he hears your words, he gets up and slams a stack of papers in front of you. You pick them up to see the name “Gwyneth Monroe” on the top. You wince slightly.

“I thought I had specifically told you that the diagnostics team does not seek patients and that they come to us! I come in and receive the news that Gwyneth Monroe had been approached by a ‘Dr. Valentine’. The same person I said no to as for reaching out.”

“Well excuse me for trying to keep this team afloat! I was only doing what’s best for the team! And besides, by doing this we’ll still be able to treat patients who can’t afford treatment!”

“That’s what you think! The board is thrilled about this and Naveen has told me that the board wants us to ‘move our focus towards high-profile patients’.” His eyes are filled with fury.

“Well I’m sorry but you can’t expect me to just stand there doing absolutely nothing while this team sinks to the bottom.”, you shrug.

“Guys, you should calm down for a moment. The patient’s probably waiting for us and we don’t want to keep them waiting.”, Baz says tentatively.

“Oh yes, from now on just like Dr. Valentine wanted we need to provide all our special patients with VIP treatment!” Your anger flares as he pokes accusations at you.

“I never said that! I’m sorry but the only way that we can still keep running this team just like Naveen wanted is by changing and adjusting a little!”

“And what do you know about Naveen’s vision? Just because you are his goddaughter doesn’t give you more authority then the rest of us, nor does it to make decisions without my approval.” Your mouth drops open as you gape at him. Baz’s eyes widen as June speaks up. “Ethan, that’s extremely low.” Ethan scoffs.

“Seriously?! I thought you knew how hard I worked for this position! Turns out you think that I got into this fellowship because of Naveen and not because of my own damn effort.”

“Stop twisting my words, Arielle.”, he says giving you a death stare.

“I never twisted your damn words.”, you clap back.

“Well, maybe you’re still not ready for a position like this. Seeming that you can’t follow a simple set of instructions.”

“How many times do I have to say it?! I was doing what we needed to do in order to keep our team afloat!!”

“And I told you not to do something which is exactly what you’ve done! I thought you had learned your lesson from last year, but clearly I’ve misjudged you.”

“Don’t you dare bring last year’s events into this! That has nothing to do with this!”, you shout.

“It has the utmost important and impact. Clearly representing your lack of being able to follow a set of instructions!”

“I can’t believe you!”

“We’ll get used to it then. If you pull one more stunt like this, I won’t hesitate to terminate your fellowship.” That sentence triggers something inside of you, a last straw.

“Well in that case, consider my whole damn job ’terminated’!” You slam your ID badge on his desk and rush out of that office as fast as your heels can take you, ignoring Baz and June’s shouts.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You slump back into your chair, and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Ethan, I know you’re our boss and all that but what in the world did you do that for?! That poor girl just quit her job!” You turn to Baz.

“And she won’t be the only one if this conversation continues.”, you say. They both exit the room.

“Lord, one day she’ll be the death of me!” You decide to go to the ER to help with any patients. After attending to a few casualties, you go back to your office when you see Harper standing at the entrance, arms crossed. You raise your eyebrows.

“Was that Dr. Valentine I saw rushing out of here?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell were you thinking, Ethan?! You can’t just shout at her like that.”

“Well, I can if I need to.”

“Well maybe when she deserves it. You damn very well know that what she did didn’t make you angry. You’re angry that what she says is right, and worried that Naveen’s vision will be compromised.”

You sigh. “...maybe I was a bit too hard on her.”

“A bit?”, she looks at you incredulously.

“Fine! I was hard on her, so what?! It’s not like she’s actually going to resign her job, it was a hot-headed decision.”

“Oh really? Then what’s this?” She waves a minute stack of papers. You take it from her and read it. It’s a resignation letter, signed. Your eyes widen in disbelief.

“She came to me, with a resignation letter and said that she wanted me to sign these papers. She’s very clear-headed and informed me that it isn’t a rash decision, but one that she’s been mulling over for sometime. She’s gotten an offer to transfer her residency back to New York, offering her a part in researching preeclampsia treatments.”

“She wouldn’t…”, your mind says.

“Naveen’s signed them too.”

“What?!” You scan the papers and notice your mentor’s signature at the bottom. “Damn it… I should go talk to her.”

“You should, And do it now. She’s leaving in a few hours to New York. The young doctor’s got quite a few connections.”

“Just tell me where she is!”

She shrugs. “She’s handing over all her patients to other residents so she could be anywhere. Dr. Hirata, Dr. Delarosa and both Dr. Mirani’s have tried talking her out of it but she wouldn’t budge. So did her friends and Dr. Lahela. Naveen tried his best but couldn’t either.”

“Well why didn’t you?!”, you ask.

“You really thought I didn’t? She’s quite the woman, didn’t waver a second. And you know how intimidating I can be.”

“Well, of course she is.”, your mind reminds you as you rush out of the office.

Arielle’s PoV:-

You’re walking through the halls of Edenbrook, handing out your charts to everyone just like you did when you were suspended. Except this time, it’ll be the last. You try to ignore your friends’ voices as you hand out the last of your charts. You quickly change into a white cropped top and a pair of jeans and gather all your things from the locker, slowly loading everything into your locker. You would have asked your friends, but you don’t have the heart to face them.

You quickly check everything off, ignoring the multiple pages you receive from your friends and him. You turn off your pager and take off your white coat, Edenbrook’s logo etched on it and hand it over to Zaid.

“I thought I’d never say this but, I’m going to miss you Valentine.”

“You know what Zaid? Me too, after all who else is going to annoy me in the mornings!”

“God, I’m going to miss you so much!”, Ines wraps you up in a hug. “Have you told your friends anything?”

You shake your head. “I can’t right now. I might fly back and visit in a week or two Probably with lots of presents cause they’ll all hate me.”

She gives you a knowing look. “You know that he didn’t really mean it.”

“I know. But I can’t go on like this.” She nods. You wave one last time before you head out back to your car. You put on your sunglasses as you unlock your car. You’re about to start the engine when you realise your backpack’s still in the office.

“Crap!” You know you’ll have to get it yourself. You head back in, and take the back way to the elevator. Luckily, it’s empty. You get in and press the button for the 9th floor. The elevator slowly descends up, 3rd…...4th…...5th..”-

The elevator dings, it’s doors opening to reveal…

“Dr. Valentine.” You can see the relief in his eyes, his chest lightly heaving.

“He’s been looking for you.” The realisation dawns on you as he enters the elevator.

Suddenly, the elevator jerks slightly. You lightly stumble as there’s no bar to hold for support. You spot the bar near him and decide to stay as far as possible.

Suddenly he presses the emergency button, the elevator stops in its tracks.

“What did you do that for?!” He ignores you. You ask again.

“One argument. One argument and you quit.”

“It wasn’t one argument! You literally blamed everything on me when I was trying to help!”

“So you sign these?!” He waves your resignation papers in front of you.

“You can’t expect me to keep doing this!”

“Doing what?! I never asked you to do anything!” You take a deep breath.

“I can’t do this anymore. Seeing you every day, us acting like nothing more than colleagues, maybe friends. Acting like absolutely nothing happened between us, it hurts, Ethan. It hurts every day, every hour every minute of my damn life!.”, you blurt out. His eyes soften as he hears your words.

“Arielle, I know and I’ve told”-

“Screw my job, screw your damn ethics and morals, screw everything damn it! I’m head over heels in love with you, Ethan Jonah Ramsey, and you can’t expect me to keep quiet!” His eyes widen as he realise the extent of your words. Tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“Do you know how hard it was for me, when you left? I found out from one of the nurses, for God’s sake!”

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell you”-

“And when you came back, after two whole months you address us as something that was in the past, something that already was finished. Was it all that meant to you?”

“I- you know that’s not true”-

“I just can’t do it anymore, Ethan. I don’t know what you’ve heard but I’m leaving Boston in a few hours. I only came back for my bag, nothing else.”

“Wait, we can”-

“I can’t, Ethan, I can’t. I feel like I’m a rope in a game of tug-of-war. You acting hot then cold.You being there right beside me, but not being able to kiss you...I can’t stand it.” You can see his eyes slowly tearing up.

Not being able to look at him, you turn around and press the emergency button, the elevator descends up again. He slams the button again, the elevator stops in its tracks. “Well you can’t expect me to let you leave just like that!”

“I don’t. Which is why I’ve told everyone I’m going to New York.”, you respond as you punch the button again, the lift slowly going up.

“I don’t care where you go, Arielle Cerise Valentine. I will find you, even if it means travelling to the ends of the damn earth.”, he responds as he presses the button again, the lift halts to a stop. His sentence tugs right at your heartstrings, breaking your heart even more.

“Ethan, please don’t. I’m begging you, it hurts. Let me go, you have to let me go.”

“I can’t. How could I?”

“...then I’ll do it for you.” You press the button for the last time, the elevator finally arriving at the ninth floor. You slowly take a step towards the office.

Ethan pulls you back to his arms, his lips meeting yours in a heady kiss. You don’t have the strength to pull away, but you know you have to. You break the kiss as the elevator door starts to open.

“I’m sorry…”

Ethan’s PoV:-

You don’t know what to do, your heart beating irrationally. “Arielle, wait!” She doesn’t look back. In a last attempt, you press the button to close the doors. They close as you sigh in relief. She looks at you, this time really looks at you. Her beautiful violet irises meeting yours. You press the emergency button one last time, never taking your eyes off of her.

“You can’t leave me, I know I’m being selfish but please don’t.” She takes one last look at you, then turns away.

In crushing defeat, you take your hand off the button, the doors start to open as she slowly walks to them. You try to memorise every inch of her, who knows when he’ll see her again. She’s about to step out when suddenly the elevator jerks quite violently.

She’s thrown back into the right wall as your shoulder forcefully collides with another wall. You’re about to help her when a second later, the elevator drops. You hold on to the metal bar for dear life as the elevator rapidly descends down several feet.

Remembering you’re not alone in the midst of the chaos as you hear screams, you see Arielle’s petite body hit the top of the elevator and drop down with a terrifying thud. You watch in horror, cursing as you’re not able to do anything.

“No!!!”

The elevator finally stops after what seems like an eternity. We rush towards Arielle, trying not to focus on the bright blood stains on her white top and hair.

“Arielle? Arielle?! Can you hear me?! Please, wake up damn it!”

Her eyelashes lightly flutter. You quickly take her in your arms.

“Mmm… i-it hu-hurts E-Ethan.” Your eyes well up once again as she struggles to speak, pain completely unbearable, for you mentally and for her physically.

“Shhhh….I know. Can you tell me where it hurts?” She tries to speak but winces in pain.

“Okay, I’m going to examine you slowly and I want you to blink once if it hurts.” She nods very slowly. Suddenly, you hear a tune. You realise it’s your phone.

“Just one second, Rookie. It’s probably Naveen or Harper.” You slowly prop her up against the wall and answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Oh thank god, Ethan! We were so worried. How many people are inside? Is anyone hurt?”, Harper asks.

“No, it was just me and Ari”- You’re interrupted by a soft thud. You whip around to see Arielle lying unconscious on the floor. You drop to your knees.

“Rookie!”

“Ethan?! What happened?!” You can hear Harper yelling but you ignore it, all your attention on her.

“Rookie! Arielle, wake up!!”

This time her eyes stayed shut.

************************************************

Author’s Note:- Okay, first of all I commend you if there isn’t even a single tear rolling across your face. I know I cried while writing this which is why if you see any mistakes, ignore them cause this wasn’t even edited once. But on a bit of a more of a happier note, I’m writing/brainstorming a part 2 to this so...

Permanent taglist: @nikki-2406 | @iemcpbchoices | @xxxxxxxx04 | @sizzlingcashherohumanoid | @archveexz | @deepikakkannan | @nishas-paradise | @maurine07 | @archxxronrookie | @adrex04 | @everythingchoices | @rivenni | @annekebbphotography | @mrsethanfreakingramsey | @jamespotterthefirst | @natureblooms24 | @katkart122 | @udishaman | @hopelessromantics4life | @custaroonie | @mvalentine | @queencarb | @lisha1valecha | @ezekielbhandarivalleros | @ejrownsme @the-pale-goddess | @justanotherrookie | @miss-smrxtiee | @missmiimiie | @choicesfics | @romewritingshop | @taniasethi | @keithandlevi-ontheroof | @choicesfan10 | @open-heart-ramseyyy | @crookedkittyperson | @sistatribe | @groovypalacehorselover

Ethan x MC taglist:- @tsrookie | @starrystarrytrouble | @mysticaurathings | @caseyvalentineramsey | @alina-yol-ramsey | @openheartthot | @gryffindordaughterofathena | @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

[glitchstoxicwaste]

hello ! i was wondering if i could please request a slasher matchup ! :)

i’m 17, 5’8” and an aries female ! i have short hair that i dye a lot and im midsized body type wise. id describe my aesthetic as grunge with a lot of grays and blacks and browns as well as a few too many graphic tees lol

as for my personality im very shy at first with a lot of anxiety but after i get to know someone im very upbeat and stubborn and im definitely the class clown type of friend/person ! i also do struggle with bipolar tho which does take its overall toll on my personality which can suck sometimes :// but overall i think im a pretty chill and fun person !

my hobbies are writing drawing and watching tv and movies (mostly horror genre stuff) i really enjoy doing martial arts and studying them! im also very passionate about nursing which is what my major is next fall and im already prepping and studying for my classes ! :)

with relationships i struggle with knowing when and how to be affectionate (im just a little touch starved) but i am the kinda partner that checks in every day, sends good morning and good night texts, always wants to be near my partner and loves to spoil my partner with stuff. i enjoy some good cuddles and quality time with my partner ! on the other hand i do have a bad habit of getting jealous over little things which kinda causes me to shutdown and push away my partner :( overall i try to be a good caring partner and i like people who will give back the energy i put out ! :)

I FOUND OUT I CAN USE MY SCHOOL COMPUTER TO DO THIS WITH SO I WONT HAVE TO STRUGGLE WITH MY PHONE OMG!

Also, I think I know a good guy fer ya!

That is:

Lester Sinclair!

He loves your hair! It's so pretty!

Your aesthetic is super cool too!

Definitely wouldn't complain if you put a chain or black leather spiked collar on Jonesy.

Find’s the contrast to your personality to be cool, shy at first but then starts being whacky, he’s into it.

Is used to bi-polar people, his big brother is Bo after all.

Not the best at reading but if you wanna tell him about what you wrote then he’s all ears.

Likes your artistic ability.

Can’t sit still long enough to watch a movie or show though.

Find’s you doing martial arts cool, thinks you can protect him from Bo then.

Since you are studying for nursing he feels you’d be best at fixing him up, so expect to be shown disgusting infections, bloody hands, scraped knees and elbows, and the occasional animal tooth stuck in his hand from grabbing it or throwing it wrong into the pile of death.

He’s not used to affection from humans, so you not knowing how or when to give it doesn’t both him, he didn’t even notice it.

Loves getting your check ins and messages, makes him feel loved and thought of.

Enjoys hanging out with you more than doing his job, but don’t worry about spoiling him, he doesn’t wanna be spoiled, he’d rather spoil you.

He adores your cuddles, and will clean up and de-stink himself for you if you want.

No need to get jealous with him, he shows both you and Jonesy all his affection 24/7

[medicallyinevitable]

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 15:- Hopeful Happenings

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Ethan Ramsey, Ines Delarosa, Kyra Santana

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Warnings:- Slight mentions of cancer

Word Count:- 1700+ words :)

General PoV:-

As the sun shines bright in the late morning, Arielle parks her car and heads straight towards Edenbrook’s locker room, a to-go cup in hand from Starbucks instead of Derry Roasters not wanting any chance to bump into Dr. Ramsey, despite knowing that he’s her boss. Making her way to the nurses’ station, she picks up her charts and textbooks and heads toward the cafeteria.

Arielle’s PoV:-

You keep at your textbooks, scouring the pages for anything that could explain Nigel's symptoms, and the tidal wave of self-doubt doesn’t help either. You let out a sigh, "Maybe Dr. Ramsey's right. Maybe I really don't belong here..."

"Mind if I join you?" A cheery voice snaps you back to reality.

You turn around to find Kyra. Dread fills in you as you see her. "Kyra, what are you doing here? Is your cancer back? Is something wrong?", you start asking.

"Woah! Dial down the doom and gloom there, Dr. Sob Emoji. I'm in remission." Kyra beams.

"What?! Oh my god congratulations! I’m so happy for you!" You envelope her in a warm hug which almost melts all your tension away.

"Just had another check-up. Will be coming a lot for those," she catches you up with her remission plan as you two sit. "No offense but I definitely look in better shape than you!"

"Ugh I know. I'm exhausted.” And just like that, all the tension fills your mind as you give her the details. " My shift ended like five hours ago, but instead of going home I am sitting here and reading till my eyes bleed."

"You should probably get that looked at." Kyra's face morphs into something serious but genuine as she continues.

"Look, I don't want to be that cancer survivor… but it did make me realize that life is too short." You give her a sad smile knowing how painful it must have been for her.

"We only get so many chances you know? But maybe you need that lesson more than I do," she continues after pausing for a moment.

"Is it that obvious?" You raise your brows.

"Let's chalk it up to my incredible intuition." Kyra smiles," Anyways there's an amazing ice cream shop nearby. They make an triple chocolate gelato that's literally to die for," she jokes, " You can take my word for that." "Why don't we visit that place? It'll give you a distraction and a much needed break."

You look at her and then your textbooks, not understanding what to do. All you can see is blurry lines. the words and concepts swim around in your very exhausted brain. You close the textbook with a slam after your answer is crystal clear.

"How can I say no to chocolate gelato!", you say dramatically.

"That's more like it!", Kyra beams. The two of you collect your belongings and make your way out as you tell Kyra everything about the dilemma with your latest patient.

"This place is pretty cute.", you say as you look around.

"Try nauseatingly adorable. I want to make it tiny and keep it in my bookshelf," Kyra replies. You laugh.

"You collect tiny shops?" You ask as the two of you made your way to the counter.

"I collect many sickeningly adorable things," she laughs before turning her attention to the boy behind the counter. "I’ll have the large Death by Chocolate please. And my absurdly attractive friend here will have…”, she nods for you to continue.

You roll your eyes at her before placing your order. You take a look at their menu before deciding to have the same one as Kyra as it's the most chocolatey one.

“I'll have the same.", you smile at the server.

The server scoops your gelato into two big cups and slides them across the counter while Kyra rummages through her bag for her wallet.

"I'll pay.“, you say getting your card out.

"No way!", she stops you by swiftly taking your card from you. You whine but to your dismay she doesn’t budge.

"This was my idea. Besides I didn't get out much during recovery. I've got months of dining-out budget to blow."

The next minute she's handing the cash to the server and then guiding you to a booth. As you two take your seats, Kyra hands you your card.

She takes a spoon full of her Death by Chocolate and sighs blissfully.

“Mmmmmm…”

You smile at her antics. "That good?" You ask before taking a bite.

"Orgasmic. I never used to eat junk food before my diagnosis."

She takes another bite and you take your first. You can't help but let out a moan as the chocolatey silkiness melts on your tongue. Kyra smirks and gives you a smug look.

She then continues, "I was super into exercising and calorie counting. I never did anything I wasn't supposed to." She smiles sadly. "And I still got lung cancer. At my twenties!"

"You must have been so strong!", you reply.

"Everyone keeps saying that but-", she pauses, "I don't know. I just went to the doctor to see why I was breathing weird."

She sighs. "Then suddenly I was going for all these tests, and then I had cancer."

She laughs humorlessly. "Life went from jogging and juice every morning to chemo and puking."

You can almost feel the pain as she speaks about her experiences even when you’re aware you’ll never truly understand.

"But I didn't do anything," she says, " Those things had to happen , and I had good insurance, so I did them. And it's not like I had any alternative."

"I think you should give yourself more credit.”, you reach for her hand and squeeze it in a comforting manner.

"You faced death with a smile on your face. I'll always remember you cracking jokes on the way to surgery-", you stop for a second before adding,"You are the strongest person I know Kyra."

Kyra blushes, a little embarrassed. "Well you can laugh or you can cry and I chose to laugh.”, she shrugs with a smile on her face.

"And like I said, I don't want to be that cancer survivor but it does put certain things into perspective."

"That kind of clarity must be nice.", you reply.

"Well yeah, you have to get some kind of consolation price for nearly dying, right?" She then shakes her head.

”But enough about that. If we keep talking about this you'll always see me as a girl who beat cancer."

"I'll never, Kyra." you say truthfully. "That's not how I see you."

"Oh yeah? And how do you exactly see me?" She asks playfully.

"I think you are inspiring."

A blush creeps on her face as she’s caught off guard, but quickly retaliates with a sassy reply. “If you keep giving me compliments then I’ll never let you hear the end of it.”

“We’ll see about that.” You both dissolve into fits of laughter as Kyra fills you up on the hospital gossip...

“What wait?! Seriously?! I can’t believe it!”

“Me either, but you know how gossip is!”, she replies with a shrug.

Just then your phone chimes. You pull it out to see it’s a reminder for your shift.

“Crap, I have 10 minutes till my shift.”

“Oof, you better hurry!”, she replies.

“We should do this again, this was really nice.”, you say as you gather your things.

“We should! Besides there would have to be 12 different things wrong with someone to turn down Gelato!”, she jokes.

“..12 different things wrong….. oh my god, Kyra, you’re a genius!”

You scramble to your feet and quickly throw away your cup.

“I like to think I am but what did I do?”, she asks.

“I’ll explain later!”, you yell.

“Ookay…” You rush back to the hospital, typing out a message on your pager as Kyra sits there in utter confusion.

“Well I guess I could get another scoop of gelato…”

————————————————————

An hour later, you take a deep breath before entering Nigel's room to find Ethan and Ines already inside.

“Well what are you waiting for?”, Dr. Ramsey says. Pushing back all of your invading memories of him, you continue with your explanation.

"I spent the last two days trying to figure out the one thing causing all of Mr.Platt's symptoms.”, you say as you stand beside Nigel's bedside.

"And?", he asks. For a split second, you can see a slight look of hope in his eyes, but it passes as quickly as it came, leaving you to believe it was a mere delusion of yours.

"That's when I realized nothing was causing all of them-" But before you can continue, you’re interrupted by Nigel.

"Are you calling-", he burps, “me a liar?", he asks, rude as always.

You control the urge to roll your eyes. He could've at least let you finish your sentence.

Ignoring him, you continue what you were saying," Mr.Platt has been experiencing tingling and hair loss but also cold sensitivity and some hearing problems." You pause for a second before continuing,"All of which point to hypothyroidism caused by Hashimoto's disease easily treated with levothyroxine."

"Go on." Ethan orders in his usual cold bossy tone.

"I couldn't fit in the constant burping and the chest pain… because it was completely separate." You explain. "I ordered a barium swallow X-ray and detected a hiatal hernia in the esophageal hole through the diaphragm."

"The treatment?", he asks, motioning you to continue.

"I have already booked a laparoscopic surgery to repair it.”, you answer with a touch of pride.

"Good work Dr.Valentine." Ines smiles at you.” You return it with a nod and a tentative smile.

"So ... I'll be cured?" Nigel asks.

"Yes-“, you calm yourself down before you rip him apart and then continue.

"You'll be good as new." you say instead with a forced smile.

"Good... because I don't want to spend a -" he burps, " second more in your hopeless company."

Your blood boils at this point as you bite your lip to control yourself. “The audacity! Ugh, he's a patient, Arielle. You have to be nice to him.”

"Mr. Platt, might suggest viewing this as a new lease on life. Perhaps a life where you don't make everyone around you miserable.”, Ethan's stern voice retorts, shocking you and Ines.

“No way...he did not!”

"Dr. Ramsey!" Ines exclaims with a shocked expression on her face, which you’re quite sure your face resembles.

"I'll report you! I want to talk to your manager," he says more angrily than before.

"Go ahead," Ethan says with a sarcastic smile." Maybe she can't talk to you like this but I sure as hell can."

You look at Nigel who looks like he's about to say something but just then Bryce struts in. He winks at you playfully as he passes you.

"Someone called for a laparoscopic surgery?"

"Oh great, first Barbie and now the damn Ken doll!” You don’t even attempt to hide the disgust on your face as you roll your eyes.

By the time you’ve finished your consultation with Bryce, Ines and Ethan have already left the room. Pleased with yourself, you take a left in the hallway without noticing Ethan standing leaning against the wall.

"Rookie..." His velvety baritone voice calls out, pulling you out of a haze.

Wincing, you stop dead in your tracks as the memories of the previous day replay in your mind. Still embarrassed with your encounter, you turn around but never meet his eyes. You’re sure you look like a kid, standing before him with your feet crossed, one hand fiddling with your hair as you bite your lip.

"So, you figured it out in the end. And you kept things professional.”, he nods, barely visible.

"I guess I just needed a… push.”, you reply in a timid voice laced with embarrassment.

"Maybe you aren’t so hopeless then.", he says.

Unlike yesterday, his voice isn’t filled with disappointment and malice.

So mustering up some courage, you look up to meet his eyes. Relief washes over you as you don’t detect a hint of disappointment in his eyes. He isn’t smiling but something in you tells you he isn’t angry. You don’t realise you’ve been staring into his oh-so blue eyes until his pager beeps, shaking you out of your reverie.

“..Uh- I’ll see you around, Dr. Ramsey.” You can almost swear that you see longing etched into his chiseled features as you lose yourself in his eyes once more.

“Likewise, Valentine.” With that, he turns around and stalks away.

You sigh and lean against the wall, the events since you started your residency swirl around like a hurricane filled with memories.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

******************************************

And this concludes Season 1 of Medically Inevitable!

Authors’ Note:- Hey everyone, hope y’all enjoyed this chapter! As you’ve probably seen before, this is the last chapter of Season 1! Season 2 will be out soon, as soon as we work out the kinks and pump out a few chapters with different moodboards and title themes! Season 2 will be much more eventful, more drama, angst and shocking cliffhangers mixed in with the string of festivities that Thanksgiving and Christmas bring! Stay tuned and check our blogs and Instagram’s (same handle) for more updates! And lastly thank y’all so much for all the support, we are extremely grateful.

Love,

@drariellevalentine & @mysticaurathings

Medically Inevitable Taglist:- @whimsicallywayward15 | @iemcpbchoices | @sizzlingcashherohumanoid | @archveexz | @deepikakkannan | @nishas-paradise | @maurine07 | @archxxronrookie | @adrex04 | @everythingchoices | @rivenni | @annekebbphotography | @mrsethanfreakingramsey | @jamespotterthefirst | @natureblooms24 | @katkart122 | @udishaman | @hopelessromantics4life | @custaroonie | @mvalentine | @queencarb | @lisha1valecha | @ezekielbhandarivalleros | @ejrownsme @the-pale-goddess | @justanotherrookie | @miss-smrxtiee | @missmiimiie | @choicesfics | @romewritingshop | @taniasethi | @keithandlevi-ontheroof | @choicesfan10 | @open-heart-ramseyyy | @crookedkittyperson | @sistatribe | @tsrookie | @starrystarrytrouble | @caseyvalentineramsey | @alina-yol-ramsey | @openheartthot | @gryffindordaughterofathena | @binny1985 | @groovypalacehorselover | @akshara16 | @epiclazershark | @aarisa-frost | @shanzay44 | @jooous | @angela8754 | @red-rookie |

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 16

////TW SA mentioned/hinted at/// Depiction of a panic attack as well

The hospital was a buzz with energy, which was a bit weird considering how small the town was. Were there really this many patients today? You honestly didn't know, hell for the longest time you weren't even sure this was a hospital when you moved here.

That was changed recently, like very recent. Last night in fact when you had been forced awake by medical staff trying to determine your condition. That sadist doctor of yours kept a small smile on their face the entire time you groaned about wanting sleep. They had simply tutted at you saying you needed to be monitored for several hours before they could let you rest.

Thankfully you hadn't seen them today but it was only ten thirty. A lovely nurse had been checking in with you all morning, even before you woke up. He'd come in when you had buzzed after waking up in pain and given you a dose of your medicine through your IV drip. When you questioned him about where you were he seemed to still in concern. Worried that you hadn't remembered your accident that lead you here.

After assuring him and giving him a play by play of your day yesterday, giving him the assumed day, and answering who the current president was he let you off the hook. Mark, your nurse, had been very keen to tell you the Cowell family is in charge of your care and will be here later in the day to visit with you. Granted you actually feel up to visitors. Which you take as code for 'would you like me to deny visitors?'.

You let him know you'll be fine with visits after ten. Knowing full well how fast news can travel in the small town it's only a matter of time before a parade of Hornets meander through to check in on you. First you wanted to grab your bearings before being thrown to your overly concerned friends.

Or maybe they weren't overly concerned after all you did just experience a home invasion that left you hospitalized. Simply being concerned is a natural reaction to your situation. But your head hurts just thinking about anything right now. So, you'd like to take a moment for yourself, have a bit of time to process everything.

Either way you'd been right, news travels fast in this small town. Nearly all the lodge residents had been waiting for an hour to see you when ten rolled around. At ten on the dot Aubrey, Barclay, and Jake stormed into your room and surrounded you like piranhas in a frenzy. You looked towards Dani, Hollis, Kirby, and several other lodge staff members for help only to get small smiles and a shake of the head.

They wouldn't be helping you out of this anytime soon. You just had to endure the genuine concern and affection from your friends. Luckily for your splitting head the visit only lasts thirty minutes before everyone has to leave. Life still goes on even when a loved one is in the hospital. With several promises to return tomorrow and requests that you take it easy the rambunctious group was gone.

You relax into your bed before turning on the TV and finding something mind numbing to watch. The food network works! You hope Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives is in the roll today. You're in luck as it starts playing right after the commercials.

The voice of your doctor is getting closer to your room. Great if you weren't already upset by the atrocity happening with the pizza at that restaurant then you are surely in a sour mood now.

“Well sir we hope you can reason with the child. They have simply fought us each time we've brought up the tests. We'd say it was mildly impressive that they held such coherence last night, had it not been for the headache it has given us.”

Oh here we fucking go again.

“I don't need the tests.”

No one had made it through the threshold before you spoke. Everyone froze at your cold tone. Until the doctor makes a motion towards you.

“As you can see, they're very stubborn.”

“I'm not stubborn you're just not listening to me. I haven't had sex in a year so I don't need a pregnancy test and I just got bashed around last night. I don't need an invasive search done.” You ignore the Cowell family as you speak to the doctor, “I find it concerning how keen you are to do a rape test on me even though I've repeatedly told you I just got banged up in the scuffle. Nothing more.”

The doctor still has their small smile placed just ever so on their face. There's something really off about them. Even under normal circumstances you hate hospitals and doctors. Mainly because they never listen to you about your issues, something you know would be even worse if you had 'Autistic' labeled in a medical file. But something about this doctor seriously rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps you two knew each other in  previous life and it was coming back to bite you in the ass now.

“Doc, the kid says they don' need a test, then they don' need the test.” Big Jo says breaking the staring contest between you and the doctor as they slide their gaze away from you to look at Big Jo.

You take no little satisfaction from seeing their stupid smile finally leave their face. It isn't long before it's replaces and they bound over to you. Poking and prodding you, jabbing with a lot more force than they should need to. After a small adjustment to your IV they clear you for this check up and allow the Cowells to have their visit with you.

“Something's off about them.” you say cautiously after the family steps into the room.

Big Jo sighs, “Ye' but they took care 'o ya last night kid.” Ushering his family through he closes the door behind them only to turn back to you with a stern expression, “so ya better play nice with 'em got it?”

Fighting back the intense urge to roll your eyes you nod, before turning to Little Jo who's made her way over to your bedside in her hands several thick graphic novels. The same ones your store started to carry a few weeks back. Looking up from the books you see her watery and puffy eyes. What she takes from Big Jo in personality she takes from her mother in empathy.

“I-I-I yip-yip I thought yip you might get bored so I yup wanted to let you borr-yip-borrow these.”

When she places the books onto the small table beside your bed you can see the tremors that rake through her hands. Choosing not to comment or bring any attention on the tween's obvious nerves you settle for an ice breaker.

“Thanks, don't know how much more crimes against pizza I can stomach.” motioning to the TV where a man is making paper thin crust on pizza to have a pizza that cooks in a minute.

That's not pizza it's cooked cheese and tomato sauce with toppings. Not pizza at all.

Jo nods softly, her normal enthusiasm no where to be found today. A pang rips through your chest as you watch her eyes cast downwards. With no clue how to help her feel better you have to swallow the sigh in your throat to not make the air heavier than it already is. Dia and Big Jo aren't much help either when you spare them a glance.

Dia herself is wiping her eyes with a tissue and sniffles escape her every few seconds. Not much is different bout Big Jo, he may have more prominent eye bags today but you weren't going to judge him for not sleeping. Even under normal circumstances you didn't have ground to stand on. Mark mentioned Big Jo was the one who found you from what he'd over heard at the nurses' station this morning.

Knowing this made the foreboding feeling in your stomach grow. The way he's looking at you with his cold stoney stare-he's not even really looking at you more through you. But his stare pierces you and sends the pit in your stomach lower than you thought possible. If it wasn't so chilly in the room you'd probably be sweating right now.

“Dia, why don' ya take Josephine home.”

Hearing this you lift your hand up to Little Jo before she has a chance to scurry out of the room with her mother. She looks at your hand and then back to you before launching herself into you with a crushing hug. Gravity doesn't help your case as the child's entire weight is on your prone form, you hadn't sat up when they came into the room.

“Get better soon.” the pain was worth it to hear the small plea. She at least felt a little better if she could talk without her vocal tic interrupting her.

After you pat her on the back and promise to rest up she's out the door with her sobbing mother. It's a quiet few moments after the door shuts before Jo takes a step towards your bed. If the pit in your stomach went any lower you're sure you'd be able to see your insides. The hulking man takes a seat in the chair next to your bed sighing as he leans back rubbing his face.

“Tell me what happened kid.”

You relay the events of your day to him. How you and Toby had gone out of town for slushies, gotten caught in so much traffic that you felt it was a punishment from God himself. The funny feeling you had after dropping Toby off, the one that said just to go straight home. And how you had a feeling someone had just been in your home. You left nothing out about the altercation with ski mask. That wasn't saying much because you only remember the ski mask and how you tried to claw their face off. When Jo pressed you for a physical description you weren't any help. Having been too caught up in survival mode you only registered the stupid frowny face on the ski mask as being a key detail...but any fool could laser transfer a decal. And the same went for that painted mask, anyone could grab an art store face mask and block paint some black over the features.

Vaguely you recall them wearing a jacket. Had it been red, yeah like a burnt burgundy maybe? It wasn't a lot to go on and seemed to frustrate Jo even more, if the pinching of his nose was anything to go by.

“You are aware of the situation, yea?” his accent has dropped, he's speaking in a more neutral tone and inflection. This might be the most rattling moment of the week-and it's only Tuesday.

He isn't looking at you so you give a quiet 'yes sir' in response.

“Kid your car got broken into on my lot. Your home gets invaded and you get bashed around/ All this a few months after my other front end girlie disappears in the middle of the night.”

A lump forms in your throat at the mention of Bambi. You can see the pattern he's stringing together, honestly you saw it long before today. You'd just been sloppy and took too much time to gather evidence of your stalkers' existence.  Bambi's disappearance wasn't voluntary and it looks like you may be next.

“Called Lydia already and we're upping the security at the cottage. Until I'm satisfied with the level of security you will be staying with us.”

“I co-cou” the lump was hard to speak around, “I can't impose like that, it's fine I'll-”

“You'll just what sleep in your car become an easier target? Go gallivanting to towns miles away where no one knows you.” his harsh words cause you to sputter, “For Christ's sake YN we don't know who we're dealing with right now!”

You don't make eye contact with Jo. You can't make eye contact he's raised his voice. You're lucky you're laying down or else you'd be rocking back and forth right now.

“Unless you have a clue who's out there and the police catch them, this decision is final. This isn't up for debate YN.” he finishes harshly

Even though he's finished you still can't look at him, your nerves are so shot and all you can do is bite your lip.

“Look I...I'd feel a lot more comfortable knowing you weren't out on your own while this gets handled. Josephine looks up to ya like an older sibling, she'd be crushed if you ended up like Bambi. Same goes for Dia. And I don't want that for my girls.” he says softly, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

With that Jo leaves you in the room after informing you that they'd be back to check you out of the hospital tomorrow. And that you could expect a visit from Sheriff Owens at some point before then.

Even after Jo leaves it feels like someone has your heart in a vice. And every few beats they squeeze it, constricting the flow of freshly oxidized blood to your body. For good measure they try to yank the organ straight from your chest cavity but just end up bruising your rib cage.

Oh God you can't breathe, you're trying but you can't tell if you are or aren't anymore. The beeping of you heart monitor is increasing with each second. It's annoying ringing is too much and you need to rip the cords from you immediately. That just makes the ringing worse as it flat lines not finding any beating or rhythm under your skin.

Soon you're swarmed with a team of nurses trying to settle you down in your panic induced haze. Their grabbing hands and forceful touches burn your skin and light a fire that travels through your veins; and only serves to make you thrash more. Taking a swing at the nurse who holds a needle you continue your struggle against the other bodies holding you down as she stumbles away.

A few nurses rush in from the door to help her, not that you notice.

So many of the sounds are merging together and you can't understand anything. From the shrill beep of the heart monitor, the voices calling out at various pitches, footsteps. Everything forms into one gigantic frantic pitch in your already fried mind.

A growl rips through the room, you can feel the vibration of it all over you. Did that come from you?

In an instant all hands are off of your panting form and just before you can sit up a deep pressure is applied to your torso. Warmth seeps into you as the pressure lowers itself onto your body. Effectively ending your meltdown and lulling you into a dissociative state.

Floating is the only way you can describe it. The sensation of weightlessness and a gentle rocking caused by the adrenaline trying to defuse itself back into the body. Or the foggy haze that clouds your mind as you try to remember what just happened. Trying to rational the series of events and this outcome. But nothing comes to you except more brain fog. A confusing storm of frustration and vulnerability hits you. And you are left powerless to do anything. You can't kick your legs or scream as much as you want to.

The weight on top of you is forcing a calm to wash over you while the emotions inside wish to break free like a whirlwind. Your distress kick starting the whirlwind back up again only to die like a camp fire in a thunderstorm when you can't get any sort of momentum to your tantrum.

You can only loose yourself to the fogginess drifting further away from your psychical body. Completely unaware of the world around you as it washes away into nothingness.

When the floating feeling finally lifts you have to blink to shake off the remaining stupor. You're able to tell there is still a heavy weight on top of you but also something holding down your left hand. You turn away from the wall that you've been staring blankly at for hours, if your sore neck is anything to go by, and see Connor perking up at your movement.

“Hey bud,” you raise a hand to ruffle his ear and he lays his big head back onto your chest. “hey Tobes.” voice cracking as you greet the man you assume is holding your hand in a death grip, not once looking up from Connor.

There's a tight squeeze on your hand and you have to close your eyes and take a minute to collect yourself before turning to face him. The last thing you remember before drifting off was a group of nurses trying to sedate you. Having no clue what went on after that and when Toby came in you're preparing for the worst. Finally facing him you pause when you make eye contact.

“Jesus! What happened to-to-to you!?”

When you'd last seen him you'd dropped Toby off in the same shape you got him. Now he's sporting a heavily swollen black eye, one that looks pretty bade considering his nose bridge is also swelling a bit. It almost looks like it's pulsing. The dark purple bruise and deep red bleeding from under it to spread away from the injury is such a drastic contrast to his weirdly grayish complexion. You aren't sure if the black eye is actually that bad or if it just looks that way due to Toby's lack of melanin.

“Tim and I got into a fight.” his one good eye cuts to the side, “Barkclay had to split us up. Drove me here to get it checked out, it's fine.” He's dismissing it, they probably can't figure out if his eye really is fine right now, since he can't feel pain and that thing looks tightly swollen shut.

“Barclay.” is the only thing you can manage to say. Your brain wasn't prepared for most things right now and it's having trouble processing the gnarly injury mixed with complete nonchalance.

His lips pull back into a smile and not one you've seen from him before. Sure you've pulled a couple genuine mirth filled smiles out of him, or seen his teasing smirks, or bashful shy smiles when you've been out with others. But this smile, if you could even call it that-it was more like he was barring his teeth. Toby looked ready for another fight or like he was a feral predator about to rip out it's prey's jugular. There's a brief flash of a image that pops into your mind's eye, one of Toby's bloodstained face with this exact expression, teeth soaked red with blood and chunks of flesh in between . A chill runs through you at the thought. Had Connor not been laying on top of you, you would have shivered.

The instant you squeeze Toby's hand, the smile wipes off his face and he stares down at your interlocked hands. He returns the gesture before bringing his other hand over. Looking up at you through his eyelashes he flips your hand and when your expression doesn't change and you don't pull away he begins to play with your fingers.

“What was the fight about?”

“I don't have to answer that.” his tone is short and clipped.

You don't press the subject, obviously Toby doesn't want to talk about it. And you're fine with that, anyway if the fight was bad enough for Barclay to need to break it up and he drove Toby here you can assume Tim instigated and is probably getting kicked back out into the RV with no AC. As bad as it sounds you could care less. Toby's your friend not Tim, you only care if Toby's ok and while he may have a very fucked up eye in the future, right now he seems like normal Toby. A bit more irritated and on edge but that's normal after a stressful day. Hell you punched a nurse a few hours ago.

“What happened to you?”

There's a small part of you that wants to sass Toby, that you don't have to answer that. Thankfully the rational side reminds you that fight with a roommate is very different than having been beaten in a home invasion. Once again retelling your story but this time starting after you dropped Toby off. No need in going into as much detail as you went into with Jo or how much you'll need to go into with the sheriff. Toby's hands would grip yours tightly throughout your recounting. It's one of the reasons you didn't go into a ton of detail. Understanding your friend is barely holding on by  a string on his good days you aren't about to load your stress along with his already eventful day.

“You can't stay there alone.” he says after you finish the recap.

“Uh duh? Like Jo's already ordered me under house arrest at his house.”

It's like the tension leaks out of him like air leaving a balloon with the way he deflates after you say that. His grip loosens on you hand and he goes back to idly playing with your fingers.

“Good...that's good.” he nods to himself.

In the silence of this hospital room with his service dog on you instead of attending to his clear anxiety ridden form, you realize Toby's a lot more caring than his exterior lets on. The brunette might not wear his heart on his sleeve but it's easy to see it once you know what you're looking for. In this moment as battered and bruised as he is, even the potential possibility of loosing function in his left eye, he's more concerned with you. Whether it's low self worth or just how he treats friends you'll have to find out later.

“Hey...Tobias, I'm here y'know?” you start to sit up waving off a pecking Connor. Once you're far enough up you retract from Toby's grip, which he does fight you on a little. And you reach out further to his bicep, you can't quite reach his shoulder in this position.

“I'm ok Tobes, I'm here.” for some reason 'Tobias' doesn't sound right for this moment.

Toby doesn't give much of a reaction which is fine since you weren't really expecting one. He places his hand over yours for a moment before bringing it back into his grip and fixates on playing with your fingers once again.

With a smile you go to pet Connor with you free hand, hoping Toby might shake himself out of this funk. After a bit of petting you grow restless with the lack of stimulation and ask Toby to pass you on of the graphic novels Little Jo left for you.

It's easier than you thought reading with one hand would be, especially since you can prop the book on Connor who doesn't seem to mind. Pup is resting across your legs now that both humans in the room are stable enough to function without his intervention.

When you finish the first book Toby speaks up, eye still focused on your hand in his. And you find out that although the series isn't his normal thing he did enjoy the art style and a few of the jokes. He waits for you to finish each book before talking more about them and the arc of the story they laid out. Opening up for the two of you to have a nice discussion on the fantasy game based series. It's honestly so much fun for you, where you lack in background awareness Toby is quick to fill you in and point out little ques the writers and artist dropped. In return you're right there explaining character motives and the subtle looks of a character's eyes.

It's a fun few hours before visiting hours are over. And Toby paused at the door before he left, he looked like he wanted to say something but held back. Just as he turned to leave you call out.

“Get home safe.” it's normally his line but you aren't going anywhere tonight.

“I will....get well soon. I'll see ya later.”

There's that awkward smile! You can barely contain the beaming one you sent him before he left. Despite being hospitalized for injuries sustained by a home invasion from your potential stalker...well plural now, you've had a pretty great day.

Fuck that sounds so bad. Should you feel guilty about forgetting your messed up circumstances? No, no everything is getting sorted out. If anything this is going along with your plans for Big Jo to help you out. This was more than enough evidence to prove that you aren't just paranoid. And you're about to have a safe place to hang while this all gets settled.

The fact that you got injured is less than ideal but this is what you get for being sloppy and unfocused.

You have a lot of faith in your boss, you know this will be dealt with. Thinking back to everyone who came to see you today...you just hope everyone can be as confident as you are that this will all end soon.

[princessfbi]

Fic Writer Questions

I was tagged by @ashavahishta and @indigo2831

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

93

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

805,881

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

16! 9-1-1, 9-1-1 Lone Star, Les Mis, Marvel, The Almighty Johnsons, White Collar, The Hobbit, The Magicians, Graceland, The Flash, Now You See Me, Burn Notice, The Man From UNCLE, Royal Pains, Shadowhunters, and Star Wars

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Not Worth It

Soccer Mom Protocol

School Nurse Protocol

The Babysitter Protocol

Just Below the Crowded Avenue

Which are all for the Marvel fandom

5) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oooohhhh.... I try not to be too angsty near the end. I guess.... Will I Ever Be More Than I've Always Been? because it leads into the truck explosion and Athena getting a first real glimpse of Buck's parents being a waste of space a total let down.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

OH! I think that's probably a tie between She Made Herself Stronger (by Fighting with the Wind) and To Look and Be Seen and Howard Han's Daycare Carpool

7) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I do! I have a crossover with Graceland and Les Mis because Aaron Tveit whump was the dream (also a Harry Potter crossover)! I also have a very subtle crossover in The Almighty Johnsons where Anders is friends with the reincarnated Hercules which was a little nod to Dean O'Gorman being on Young Hercules. I've also a crossover with White Collar, Royal Pains, and Burn Notice. Annndddd..... *checks notes* Also just I crossed over all the Marvel fics all the time.

8) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I've been known to dabble from time to time. Just depends on the tone of the story. My main thing is keeping it consensual, have healthy communication, and show safe practices.

9) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I don't. I used to respond to everyone all the time but I had a few run ins where certain people have been a bit rude. I also stressed about my responses a TON because I didn't want to seem like I was just copying and pasting and that was taking up a lot of my energy. Eventually I had to decide what readers wanted more: my responses to comments or my writing. I'll answer a question here and there but for the most part I let the comment section be a space for the readers.

10) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really. I did get one person who was kind of really mean but they'd been mean to a lot of people so I took that with a grain of salt. I get more rude comments from time to time but those are also easy to disregard since I don't respond to comments anymore.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Sort of? I've had a few instances where people have taken certain things from my fics or scenarios from my fics and wrote it their own way. Though someone did take a part of my fic that was like a 5+1 and expanded one of the 5 to do their own story but that was on a site I don't use so I didn't know about it until recently.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of but it's possible.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

*side eyes @buddie-buddie* Ella you remember that time we went deep in our Buckley Siblings feels?

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh definitely Buddie for sure! Buddie followed by Enjolras/Grantaire.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I had a Carlos whump fic that I was working on but I've lost the inspiration (and the fun) from being a part of that fandom. But who knows? Never say never.

16) What are your writing strengths?

Character and pacing/tone? I feel like a lot of people talk about those the most.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

Homophones and being kind to myself.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If it's in character and done correctly then sure! I made it a point in I Want You to be Happier where the only Spanish Eddie says is the Spanish he says in canon or the one time he's parroting back to Abuela. Abuela and her friends spoke Spanish fluently though and since Eddie was living with her, I would write him understanding parts of what she was saying. I actually even specifically only had Eddie mentally translate one sentence ("Who was on the phone?") and because it's a common occurrence he knew what she was saying. But whenever I do a different language I make sure that I am almost 100 percent correct when using it!

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Charmed!

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

....Tortured Musician Buck!AU my beloved!!!! That one and Tear Me to Pieces; Skin to Bone and If I Fall, Can You Pull Me Up?

Imma tag @buddie-buddie @lovebuck @herodiaz @softsatanhq @renecdote @maddieandchimney @madneyfiles @buttercupbuck

[allxthingsxglxtter]

Look who just woke up- is that WENTWORTH MILLER? No, I must have been mistaken, that’s MICHAEL SCOFIELD from PRISON BREAK. I heard he is 37 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, they still give off a CONSTANT PLANNING, ORIGAMI CRANES, SACRIFICING EVERYTHING FOR OTHERS impression. They’re known to be quite BRILLIANT, but have a tendency to be STUBBORN on their bad days.

Gender/Pronouns

He/Him

How long have they been in Sydney?

Michael’s been in Sydney for six years

Job

He’s currently a waiter, and now that he’s not sick he’s back to doing some consulting for heists/break ins and such for those who know to ask.

Which suburb do they live in?

TBD

Memories of their real life :

Michael doesn’t have a lot of memories of his father who left them, and holds what memories he has of his mother close, but what he remembers most is his brother Linc.  When Link was 15 and he was just 11 their mother died, and Link was left to take care of his younger brother.  While Linc got involved in criminal activity and some bad stuff, he kept Michael out of it, wanting him to have a brighter future than that.  Michael did keep out of it, instead devoting himself to school, becoming a successful Structural Engineer in Chicago.

He and Linc grew apart as they grew older, Michael seeing Link’s life choices as foolish, but when Linc got arrested for a murder he claimed not to have committed, and Michael discovered the reason he had stayed in a life of crime was to pay back a debt he’d accrued making sure Michael made it through college, Michael hatched a plan.  He was going to get himself arrested, and break out of the prison.  He dedicated three years of his life to perfecting the plan while he tried to prove Linc’s innocence, but when Linc’s appeals were denied and he was going to be sentenced to death Michael got himself arrested and the plan was in motion.  It didn’t go smoothly, but it worked, getting Linc out in time as well as six other innmates.   During his time in prison he met and fell in love with a nurse, Sara, whom he would later marry, and Sucre, his cellmate and eventual best friend.  

But life didn’t go smoothly, the next few years just him living on the run and having to plan and think ten steps ahead of everyone chasing them just to stay alive. It’s years of running, and nearly dying, and in the seemingly endless chase.  And during all of this, he found out he had the same tumor his mother had died of, Michael continuing to push himself despite the fact he was now actively dying.  In return for a favor from his brother, the Company that had been chasing them the whole time did a procedure to cure him of his tumor.   But even at the end of that...it wasn’t enough.  The Company wouldn’t leave him alone, and Michael had to fake his death, leave everyone and everything he loved in order to keep them safe.  

What was their fake life like?

Michael had a pretty happy life in Sydney, growing up with a close relationship with his brother Joe.  He went to school, studied at University and became an architect but when one of his friends came to him needing help getting his father out of some trouble, Michael was able to come up with a plan to help.  He saw more details than most, thinking ahead and planning coming to him with ease.  When his tumor surfaced again here in Sydney he pulled back from his full job and stuck closer to home as his condition deteriorated, but now that his life was saved by Frey he’s back to working and living more normally.  

[randomingoftherandomness]

Can we PLEASE fulfill the prompt of Booker waiting 100 years to the day only for no one to show up because they were delayed somehow? And then having to hunt down booker, who’s started running because he thinks his family doesn’t love him anymore and maybe some ot3 if it works??

Llewellyn eyes the stranger seated in the corner of the pub. He had been here all day, nursing one glass of water after the next, barely getting up for anything other than the loo or a smoke. He was a handsome man with clear eyes and every time the front door opened, his head would perk up from their careful consideration of the wood grain of the table, before descending back into a sad slump. 

His phone buzzed. Corinne, his flatmate, was asking him what time he’d be getting home and if he could get something for her. His shift was ending in a few minutes and he makes up his mind about the guy.

“You still waiting, then?” Llewellyn asks as gently as he can muster. “Your mates. They on their way then?”

The man tilts his head up to meet his gaze for a beat before looking out to the way the skies over London have tinged a blood orange glow. He blinks. As if he hadn’t realised that time has passed.

“They forgot, I guess,” He says, voice croaky like his vocal cords have forgotten how to make the sounds of words. Llewellyn thinks he sounded an awful lot like his Da when Mum died; like someone who was grieving and knows he will be grieving for the rest of his life.

It’s this thought that pangs deep in his heart, seizing his breath. “Listen, I get off in a few minutes, but I could get the barman to keep an eye out on you if you’d like? Make sure you’re okay?”

That brings a smile to his face and whilst it is a simple twist of his lips, Llewellyn feels his belly flips and flops. “You’re sweet but there isn’t any need for it.” The man stands, pulling out his card to pay when Llewellyn holds his hand out. 

“On the house. You’ve been drinking nothing but water the whole day,” He says, ducking his head shyly. God. Corinne always said that he was terrible at talking to handsome men. And this one certainly is very handsome. 

“Diolch,” The man smiles again.

“You’re welcome,” Llewellyn stutters out in shock. “How did you--?”

“The name was a dead giveaway,” The man jerks his head at his name tag, rolling the pronunciation perfectly in his native Welsh. He nods and makes to leave when Llewellyn grabs him by his sleeve.

“Do you have any message you’d like to leave for them? In case they show up?”

The man frowns for a moment. “Tell them,” He pauses. “No, it doesn’t matter. I don’t think they would want to hear it anyway.” His clear eyes meet Llewellyn’s. “Thank you. You’re very kind.” With that, he leaves without ever giving him a name.

Llewellyn finds his mind turning to the beautiful man over the next few days, he finds his daydreams take the shape of him coming back to the Prospect and himself asking for his name - always something equally as lovely like Anthony or Damian or even Sebastian - and maybe after he would get to sit next to the stranger and they would fall in love over a pint or two. Llewellyn would end his shifts with the man waiting for him with that beautiful smile and they would have picnic dates in parks and Sunday morning lie-ins. 

It is during the nursing of one such daydream about a week after meeting the handsome stranger when in comes a group of four who take the same table by the window. He goes over to take their order when he overhears them.

“... I’m telling you that it was a week ago,” says the woman with braids in her hair. American, Llewellyn notes.

“It can’t be because I marked out our calendars myself when we went digital,” says the man with a very distinctive Italian nose and the accent too just like his cute next-door neighbour Gio who always seems to never have any salt in his cupboard and needs to borrow some from Llewellyn.

“We could have gotten the dates wrong, my love,” The man with the loveliest head of curls says with a gentle smile. “We had had a few rough days. It would have been easy for anyone to mix things up. Time moves differently for us after all--”

“Why are you eavesdropping on us?”

Llewellyn jumps right out of his skin, clutching at his tablet. “I’m sorry!” He stutters. meeting the other woman who had the sharpest eyes. Everything about her screamed danger and the hairs on the back of his neck immediately prickles. “I couldn’t help it. You’re his friends, right? The ones that he was waiting for? Blonde brown hair? Blue eyes? Really handsome with his scruff?”

In the corner of his eye, he sees the two men stiffening with, if he wasn’t mistaken, jealousy. 

“He waited for you guys. The whole day. Left just after dinner,” He offers, heart thumping wildly in his throat. 

“Did he say where he was going?” The American asks with a concerned look in her eyes. 

“No,” Llewellyn offers. “I asked if he wanted to leave a message in case he missed you and he said it wouldn’t matter. That you wouldn’t want to hear it anyway.”

“Fuck.”

The man with the curls utters it with such broken desperation that the other man leans in, pressing their brows together. “We’ll find him,” He says in a quiet murmur. “We have to find him.”

The scary woman rises first and pauses when she meets Llewellyn’s gaze again. “Is he in trouble?” He finds himself asking her. “Are you going to hurt him?”

“No,” She says with a wry smile. “We just want to bring him home.”

He replays the incident over and over in his mind over the next two months. In that intervening time, Gio finally asked him out for coffee which became two coffees and now they had plans to head out to the Lakes for a long weekend away. Llewellyn thinks Gio is going to ask him to be his boyfriend. He thinks he is going to say yes. 

“Bore da, Llewellyn.”

He smiles at that voice, looking up from texting Corinne about what his outfit choices should be for his trip. “Bore da!” He greets the handsome stranger who grins, blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “Water again?”

The stranger shakes his head. “I’m only stopping by.” He jerks his head at the opened doorway where Llewellyn can see the two men from before watching them with hawkish look their way. It is only then in the way he sees them carefully cataloguing how close he was standing to the stranger that it hits him like a metric tonne of bricks because he is an idiot. Oh, so they were lovers! “We’ve made plans.”

“That’s... Great?” His tongue trips over the words and the stranger laughs. 

“Yeah. It’s great,” He smiles, looking shy for a second. His gaze flickers outside to where his lovers were. “I just came by to thank you. You were kind when you didn’t have to be. Most people would have ignored me and left me alone. You didn’t. So, thank you.” He leans in and brushes a stubbly kiss to Llewellyn’s cheek. Instinctively, he takes a deep breath and drinks in the leather of his jacket and the smell of coffee and mint on his skin. “Take care of yourself, Llewellyn.”

“Did you do that to make them jealous?” Llewellyn asks, pulling back. 

The glint of mischief and mirth sparks brightly in the blues of the stranger’s eyes. “Oh, yes.” He winks, smiling as he turns to walk back out to his lovers’ sides. 

His phone buzzes and it was Gio telling him that somehow he won a contest he never joined for a free weekend stay at Cedar Manor, now wasn’t that great? Llewellyn looks back out to the door but the men were no longer there. Heart skipping a little, he huffs a soft laugh. Sounds great x, he texts back.

[toplinetommy]

Three Times Your Brother Got in the Way + One Time He Was Nowhere to be Found

Words: 2.8k

one

It was both you and your twin brother, Ryan’s, birthday, meaning that a way too large of a celebration was going on. Between the two of you, Ryan was the one that favored the overly large gatherings, whereas you were the twin that liked to party with just their friends. That’s how you ended up here; at a bar in downtown Philly with half of the Philadelphia Flyers roster and a few of your girlfriends. If it were up to you, which is usually wasn’t when your brother was around, you’d be at your shared apartment on the east side of the city with only people the two of you knew.

It was okay though, your twin was your best friend and you were thankful you got to celebrate with him. You were also pretty thankful for the tall dirty blonde he had befriended a little over a year ago that was seemingly always around now. 

Ryan was somewhere on the dancefloor with a few of his work buddies and a girl he introduced you to earlier that night. You chose to sit at the long table where part of your group had situated, sitting with Carter, Travis, Kevin, along with your friends Haley and Maddie. 

Carter was sitting next to you nursing an IPA you had never heard of while you were drinking your usual margarita, “Hey! Does anyone want to do tequila shots with me? I’m thinking I need to be on Ryan’s level pretty soon.”

Cheers came from around the table, signaling everyone wanted one as well. You and Haley got up from your chairs, her volunteering to walk over to the bar with you.

“So, you finally gonna make a move on Carter tonight?” She yells over the music once you guys reach the bar. You scoff in her direction as the bartender asks for your drink orders, telling him you wanted six shots of tequila.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You yell back, tapping your heeled foot on the wooden floor beneath you. You look over your friend’s shoulder towards Carter’s general direction once you’re done speaking, only to see him look at you as he took a sip from his beer.

The shots get handed to you right as you turn your head back to Haley and you walk back over to the table, setting them down on the table for everyone to grab. As you all lift your shot glasses to meet in the middle for a toast, Carter cuts you off, “To the gorgeous birthday girl!”

A warmth fills your chest and covers your shoulders as the rest of the group echoes the toast and takes the shot. Once you shoot back the shot you settle back into your chair, only to notice the blonde’s lengthy arm slung over the back of it. Pushing your feelings to the side, you lean back into anyways. If Ryan was going to come back and make a comment about his best friend being a little overly friendly with his sister, you’d blame it on the alcohol.

Chatter fills the table once again, the guys all making jokes about Ryan’s god awful dance moves and the girls laughing along with them. You feel Carter lean a little bit deeper into your side and suddenly he’s very close to you.

“You having a good time?” He asks, the softness in his voice sending shivers through your body. You turn your head to him, nodding your head yes in response, a light blush and shy smile on your lips.

“On a scale of 1-10 how drunk are you?” He questions loudly.

You knit your eyebrows at the odd question, “like a four?”

“Okay, cause I want to make sure you’ll understand what I’m about to ask you.”

The calmness and smoothness in his voice sounds like honey and even though he’s fighting over all the background noise he still sounds like he’s whispering to you. A tightness pulls in your stomach, and you're not entirely sure if it’s because of the man’s face that’s four inches away from you or all the tequila you’ve consumed in the past hour.

“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to, like, do something sometime. Ya know, like not with-” He starts before a very heavy and large, Ryan tumbles into you.

“Y/n!” He exclaims in a slur, “It’s our birthday, why are you over here and not hanging out with me?” He pouts at you and you know it’s time for you to get dragged away by him. Standing up, you turn towards a flushed Carter and give him a soft smile.

two

Football season was coming to a close and with a hopeful happy ending for the city of Philadelphia. The Eagles had made it to the NFC championship game, meaning the city was on a whole new level of crazy, hoping they could pull out a win to go to another Super Bowl in the weeks to come.

Ryan and you, being the football fanatics that you are, had decided to host some of your friends over for a watch party. To no surprise, Ryan had invited a few of the Flyers over, while you had invited your best friend.

Ryan was outside on the back deck grilling, showing Travis the new grill he had gotten for himself, while you and everyone else sat comfortably in the warmth of your home. The guys hadn’t been over for long so when Carter finally walks up to greet you by the back patio door, you’re shocked at the midnight green hoodie he was wearing.

“Getting into football now, huh?” You joke around, poking at the flying eagle on his chest.

He chuckles lightly, looking down at your hand as you pull it away, “Being in a sports town like this rubs off on you, what can I say.”

“Fly, eagles fly, baby.” You smirk, raising your Coors Light to clink with his IPA.

“Fly or die.” He agrees as your two glasses meet in the middle with a sharp clink. His clear blue eyes watch yours as he brings his glass away from his mouth, licking his lips. “I might have to ask you a few questions, there’s still some stuff that confuses me.”

You take half a step backwards, leaning on the kitchen counter behind you, looking out the back patio door to see your brother chatting Travis’ ear off.

“Just stick with me and you’ll know all the ins and outs of the game. You do the hockey and I’ll do the football.” You joke lightly, turning back to the goalie in front of you. Football had always been your favorite sport growing up and you had only really gotten into hockey once Ryan had befriended Carter and a couple of the other guys.

“I like that plan.” He says softly, taking a step towards you, making up for the step you had just previously taken away from him. “Speaking of hockey, we have a day game next weekend if you wanted to come?” His voice raises in infliction as he asks the question, nerves taking over his body.

“Actually, yeah, that’d be nice! I haven’t been able to go to a lot of the games Ryan always tries to drag me to.” You cheer. “Let me see if he can go too, but I imagine he can.”

You start to turn towards the back patio, planning on asking Ryan if he was free next weekend. You slide open the door a bit, poking your head out into the winter Philadelphia air, asking if he wanted to tag along to the game with you. As he lets you know you can make it, you turn back towards Carter, who seems to have a slight awkwardness in his slouched posture.

“Well, actually, I was, uh, thinking if you wanted to like, do something after with-” He starts, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand.

Suddenly the door slides open and Ryan barges in with an overflowing plate of burgers, sliding right between you and Carter. “The burgers are ready!” He announces, Travis following close behind him as everyone rushes towards the kitchen for some food.

three

Waking up, you squeeze your eyes tighter shut, trying to block out the sun peaking through your bedroom blinds. A groan slips past your lips, as the pounding in your head starts. The memories of last night flood through you. You had drank way too much tequila, the reason being Ryan getting a promotion at work.

As you rubbed your eyes awake, you could only imagine the mess that would be in your living room. Moving around you pull on a pair of running shorts and pull your hair into a quick braid. 

Walking down the hallway into the living room, you could still distinguish the scent of beer, causing a slight gag in the back of your throat. You make your way to the kitchen, on a mission for the biggest glass of water you could possibly get and anything that was overloaded in carbs. Once you get your water, you realize you left your phone in your room and make your way back to grab it.

Walking back to the kitchen you notice the large sleeping figure flopped onto your couch. The large, pale, shirtless figure with light brown hair all over the place. Carter Hart is sleeping on your couch and you look like you aren’t even wearing pants. 

You decide to ignore him, going back to the kicthen to find some food to make, trying your best not to wake anyone up in the apartment. As you pull the carton of eggs out and shut the refrigerator door, the same shirtless figure appears behind the once open door once it’s shut.

A soft ‘fuck’ slips past your lips as your eyes naturally fall onto his pale, toned abdomen. 

“Do you have water?” Carter asks in a raspy voice, breaking you from your thoughts. 

You nod your head, whipping open the fridge door once again to grab your Brita filter. You stick your head in the fridge for a little longer than necessary to avoid the shirtless man standing next to you. You finally hand him his glass and he takes it going to sit at the kitchen island. You choose not to follow him and instead start grabbing things to make some eggs.

“Hey, instead of making breakfast, did you maybe want to go grab breakfast? There’s a place nearby I’ve been to that’s pretty good.” He shrugs, spinning his glass around on the countertop.

You face the stove, contemplating the idea for a moment before turning around to face the shirtless hockey player in your kitchen. “Yeah,” You answered, “that sounds a lot better than homemade scrambled eggs right now.”

“Okay, awesome, uh, I just have to grab my shirt and I’ll be good to go.” He says, downing the rest of his water and setting it back down on the island. 

“I just have to change and I should be good, too. Just give me a few minutes.” You shrug, putting away the ingredients you were planning to use. As you round the corner to head to your room you run into a large body, Ryan.

“You guys going to grab breakfast?” He asks, running his hand through his bed head.

You and Carter look between one another before you look back at your twin. “Uh, yeah, Carter said he knows a place a few blocks away.” 

“Cool! I’ll just go change and throw on a hat and I can join you guys!” He exclaims before turning back around and disappearing back down the hallway towards his room.

plus one

Sitting on the couch of your apartment, your thoughts are pulled away from your laptop as you hear a knocking on the front door. Setting your laptop on the cushions beside you, you move towards the door to see who it is.

Swinging the door open, you find Carter in the hallway holding a box of some sort. Ryan hadn’t let you know he was coming over, so you’re confused as to why he’s standing at the door and even more confused at the mysterious box in his hands.

“Hey,” Carter greets, sensing the confusion written all over your face. “Is Ryan home? He said I could swing by anytime today.”

“Uh, yeah, I think his girlfriend is still here. I’m not really sure what he’s up to.” You let him know, moving to the side so you can let him into your entryway. You close the door behind him, and move back towards where you were previously sat on the couch, pulling your laptop back onto your lap.

“What’s in the box?” You ask, your curiosity getting the best of you. Carter walks further into the apartment, setting the box down on the kitchen island with a large ‘thud’.

“Tax stuff? I don’t really know what it all is. Ryan said he’d help me with my taxes and said he’d make sure I was doing everything right.” He answers.

“Oh, yeah, it’s getting to be that time of the year, huh?” You say, remembering that the tax season is coming to a close soon. You look up from your laptop to see him continuing to stand by the kitchen island, his hands awkwardly stuff into his sweatpants pockets. “You can come sit while you wait for him.”

Carter moves to join you on the sectional in the middle of the living room, sitting on the opposite side as you. “What are you working on?” He asks, pointing to the laptop you're typing away on. 

“I’m actually looking for a new job,” You start. Carter nods his head, urging you to go on. “I didn’t really plan on staying at the place I’m working at right now anyways.” 

Although Carter seemed to be around quite frequently over the past few months, you guys never really got to get to know one another other than the basic things. You knew he was a goalie and that he was on his season and that he was Canadian, which you had picked up on instantly due to his accent. 

“What exactly do you do? I think Ryan mentioned to me that you worked in communications?” He asked.

A smile spreads across your lips, the passion evident in your voice as you begin to speak. “I work in communications and marketing, or at least that’s what I’m looking for right now. I want to be a marketing coordinator but I’m just a PR assistant at my current job.”

Carter leans further into the couch, adjusting himself so he’s facing you. His head is leaned against his hand that’s resting on the back of the couch. He nods his head along as you speak, and he finds himself immersed into the conversation, asking more questions about exactly what you do.

The conversation flows for a little while longer before footsteps come from the hallway, signaling that Ryan and his girlfriend had finally emerged from his bedroom. 

“Oh, hey, man. When did you get here?” Ryan asks, slapping his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Carter looks back up towards your brother, “Not too long ago.” 

“Hopefully y/n hasn’t been too annoying.” He jokes, smirking at you, as he walks his girlfriend out. You roll your eyes with a scoff at the chirp, a slight blush rising on your cheeks.

“Not at all.” Carter responds with a smile, looking back towards you.

“I’m gonna grab a quick shower then I’ll be right out to help you.” He says before disappearing back towards his room. “Y/n don’t bore him to death!” He chirps as he shuts his bedroom door.

You get a little quiet after that, focusing back on the computer screen in front of you. Carter stays silent as well, trying to feel out the now-awkward atmosphere in the room.

“Hey, y/n?” He asks, grabbing your attention. You hum in response, turning your attention back to him where he continues to sit on the other side of the couch.

“I’ve been trying to ask you out for, like, weeks now, and now that your brother is finally not going to interrupt, do you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date? Just you and me.” He asks, rambling a bit. A wide smile falls on his face as he finishes, watching your reaction at every word he speaks.

You smile softly at the blushing boy in front of you, your own blush starting to creep up your neck. “Yeah, I’d really like that.” You agree.

His smile widens further as he fishes in his pocket for what you assume is his phone.

“Awesome,” he affirmed. “I’ll look at my game and practice schedule and I can let you know what days work for you?”

“That works perfectly.” You smiled, “And by the way, Ryan is always going to get in the way.”