#kill code part 4

[scoopfork]

apex legends kill code part 4 & text posts

[roboknight-prime]

Revenant: Some skinbag out there thinks there in control

Revenant: Control....

Revenant: I'll rip it from their, cold. Dead. Hands.

Revenant: I only wanted control over me.

[the-mechanica]

Partner

[comet160]

Look at them all

[ezlo-x]

i finally have been able to capture the aesthetic/art direction i would like to take my tloz au!! idk if I'll be able to capture that feeling through my work especially the comic but I think that specific vibe old fantasy games had especially in the old PlayStation era like Shadow of the Colossus, Dark Souls, King's Field. Just whatever type of game fits that vibe

[m3ph1st0phelescircus]

WAIT NO NOT LIKE THAT

i want octane “they say Death catches up to everyone, he can certainly try” and revenant “i am death” to interact next season so bad please

[mistyechoes]

holy shitttt what the fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkk

[thegirlsarethriving]

just finished undertale. ok i see the vision. i now understand yall's Sans-to-Benrey obsession pipeline. and the Papyrus-to-Tommy Coolatta pipeline

[inkandapex]

stream madness pt. 2

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando Norris embraced his now-public relationship as a chance to openly and unapologetically adore his girlfriend. Fans saw it as a win—though it came at the cost of Max F constantly getting roped into their antics.

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, suggestive dialogue

part 1 | part 3 | part 4

Protect Max

Fans were absolutely loving how Y/N had become a bigger part of Max’s streams. They got to see a side of her they’d never caught on social media and beyond the glimpses from the paddock with Lando.

It was just another day of chatting and gaming for the two during a break between races, the pair sat in an ever familiar room in Lando's place in Monaco, but with him absent as Max had mentioned he went out for training.

"We just agreed on not using grenades you cheat! Lando's rubbing off on you way too much. I don't like it" Max exclaims as his character on Counterstrike once again, gets killed by Y/N less than a minute into the round.

"Oh go cry about it Max, just admit I'm better than you" Y/N smirks as she grabs her water bottle to take a sip

"You cheated! I got absolutely knocked by that"

"Fine! You big baby, no grenades this time, promise" Y/N groans as they start another round

"they're so sibling coded" "not bob getting dethroned from being Max's gaming partner" "she's so gonna beat Max again this round"

“Okay, chat, no need to rub salt in the wound—by the way, I was the one who taught you how to play, you should be grateful—shit!”

Max was mid-sentence when Y/N sniped him, knocking him out of the game and securing yet another win—this time, fair and square.

“The student becomes the master,” she smirked, leaning back in her chair, clearly enjoying the moment.

"What's going on here?" the mic picks up Lando's voice before he even enters the frame.

"I'm absolutely dominating on counterstrike—did you just get back?" A playful smile spreads across Y/N's face as Lando walks into the room, standing behind her chair and gently massaging her shoulders.

"I've already showered and everything. Been here the past 30 minutes, you two were too busy bickering—I could hear you all the way down the hall," Lando chuckles, looking down at her with a cheeky grin.

He leans in, but Y/N quickly shifts away, avoiding the kiss.

"You're avoiding my kisses now?" Lando teases, his mouth hanging open in mock surprise.

"The stream, Lan..." Y/N mutters, a little pout on her lips, making Lando laugh softly.

"Alright baby, for our eyes only, yeah?" Lando smirks, leaning back down while reaching for the camera, his hand covering it just in time to hide their kiss.

"Hello?! My eyes! My eyes! What about Max’s eyes?!" Max's shout makes the two burst into laughter as Lando pulls his hand away, revealing Max’s face, twisted in utter disgust.

"lol poor max" "bet he misses P a lil extra today" "i think im going to cardiac arrest they're so cute"

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Snitches get stiches

The night before testing in Bahrain, Lando hopped onto Max’s stream for a few rounds, confident as ever. After absolutely schooling Max, he decided it was time to call it a night, shutting down his setup and stepping away.

What he didn’t step away from, however, was the chat.

Curled up in bed, phone in hand, Lando lurked—dropping smug messages every few minutes. No matter how much Max tried to ignore him, chat was loving it, egging Lando on as he tormented his friend from the shadows.

" 'Just take the L—' Mate, I did take the L. You’re the one still lurking in chat," Max laughed, shaking his head as yet another message from Lando popped up. "You have testing tomorrow, by the way."

Then, a new message appeared.

"Ed said he let you win this morning."

Max smirked, grabbing his phone. Without a word, he held up a finger to the camera and pressed dial. The stream went quiet as he waited. After a few rings, a familiar voice came through the speaker.

"Hey, Y/N, you alright? Sorry if I woke you. You’re in Bahrain with Lando, yeah?" Max finally said, his grin growing wider at the thought of absolutely snitching on his best friend.

"Hey, Maxie. No you're good, just in the other room catching up on work. Lando went to bed about an hour ago. Everything okay? Do I need to wake him up?" Y/N sounded concerned.

"Yeah, 'bout that... he’s wide awake, actually—just finished streaming golf with me. Wouldn’t leave my chat."

The pause on the other end was almost too satisfying. Max leaned back, waiting patiently, his smirk never fading. The sound of rustling and soft footsteps had him turning up the volume, bringing his phone closer to the mic. He even covered his mouth, stifling his laughter, determined to catch this golden moment in all its glory.

"bro is cooked" "oh no she's mad" "not max snitching on lando AGAIN"

"You’ve got testing tomorrow, Lan." "Fucking snitch, Max! Grow up!" Lando’s voice barely made it through, muffled. "You said you were going to bed an hour ago," Y/N said, clearly not amused. "Baby, I am in bed," Lando mumbled, his tone defensive. "You were just playing with Max—" "—For one round, my love. I’m in bed now, aren’t I?" "Don’t play me, Norris. Go to sleep, or I’m taking your phone away." “How am I supposed to sleep without you next to me, huh?” Lando’s voice was full of fake desperation, stretching the words out like he was pleading for a lifeline.

“Right, well, now I’m about to throw up,” Max interrupted, cutting through the conversation with his dry humour.

"Fewtrell, you knew better. shouldn't have entertained him when he asked you to play." "yeah that's right! you get him baby" "Didn't I say go to sleep? I'm telling Jon about this tomorrow" "This isn't over Max!" Lando manages to shout before the line cuts.

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

Taking her back

Lando, Max, and Y/N had been best friends long before Lando and Y/N started dating, and though Lando loved how well his girlfriend and best mate got along, there were times when his jealousy got the best of him.

"Baby, come on. You've been playing with Max forever!" Lando whined, his voice dripping with playful frustration. Both Y/N and Max paused their game, turning to see Lando dramatically sprawled out in the chair behind them, looking all sorts of pouty.

"Lan, you’ve been glued to your phone for the past two hours," Y/N teased with a laugh. "We’ve asked you to join us, like, a million times"

"That’s different!" Lando huffed. "I need you. Did you not miss me? It’s the first time we’ve seen each other in a week!" He gave them a puppy-dog look, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his adorable pout.

"A week’s not that long, mate," Max teased, unable to resist poking fun.

"Shut up, you dickhead. I wasn’t talking to you," Lando snapped back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "You're only saying that because P’s been with you the whole time."

"Y/N is literally 6 feet away from you—" Max shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"—Yeah? And you’re about 6 feet away from getting punched," Lando retorted, his playful threat making everyone laugh.

"You’re so easy to wind up," Max said, shaking his head in amusement, clearly enjoying Lando's reaction.

"Very mature, you two," Y/N spoke up, watching the back-and-forth between Lando and Max with an amused smile.

"Baby, please, can we kick Max out? I need some me and you time," Lando groaned, rolling his chair closer to Y/N, his eyes full of exaggerated desperation.

"Lando, chat asked her to join my stream today," Max protested, raising an eyebrow. "You’re really gonna steal her away from them?"

"They’re stealing her away from me right now," Lando shot back, narrowing his eyes playfully at the camera.

"Alright, you big baby, one more round, then we'll leave Max alone," Y/N chuckled, turning to face Lando and gently running her hand through his hair.

"No. Now," Lando pouted, shamelessly showing just how needy he was, making Y/N laugh as she gave him a soft, teasing look.

"I'm about this close to bleaching my eyes and ears, mate," Max teased, smirking at the chaos unfolding.

"I'm about this close to kicking you out of my flat—" Lando leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Max.

"—OKAY. Chat, my kids are throwing tantrums now, I think it’s time for me to go," Y/N sighed in defeat, sitting up straight with a playful roll of her eyes. "You two are impossible." She gave both of them an exasperated but affectionate look, knowing she’d have to be the voice of reason.

"boooo! not bob stealing y/n from us" "NOOO don't leave Y/N" "LN being selfish lol" "hes neeeedy"

Max let out a laugh as he read through the chat, clearly enjoying the chaos. "They're booing you, mate—yeah, chat! That's right! He’s stealing Y/N from us!" Max egged them on, his voice full of mischief.

Just as Y/N stood up from her seat, ready to leave, Lando grabbed her arm, pulling her back down onto his lap. He held her firmly by the waist, giving her a quick kiss.

Y/N gently shoved him, standing up again with a soft laugh, trying to hide the flustered look that had crept onto her face from his sudden move. Lando, now sporting a proud smirk, looked straight at the camera. "Gotta take my girl back now, chat," he said with a playful wink. "We’ll see you guys next time."

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

Look at my girl

"Did you get the code? I sent it to you on WhatsApp," Lando said, setting his phone down and turning his attention back to his screen as he finished setting up the game.

"Yep, got it. We're using in-game mics, yeah?" Max replied, joining the lobby.

Before Lando could answer, a soft knock echoed through the room. He instinctively pulled off one side of his headphones, swiveling his chair to find Y/N standing by the door.

"I'm heading out now, bub" her voice carried through the mic, chat flooded with messages about how soft Lando’s gaze had just turned.

"Look at you all dressed up—where are you headed, my pretty girl?" Lando smirked, leaning back in his chair, eyes shamelessly trailing over his girlfriend.

A blush crept up Y/N’s cheeks as she shifted on her feet, slightly embarrassed by her boyfriend’s proud declaration. "I’m having lunch with Alex today, remember?"

"You look beautiful, my love," Lando murmured, his grin widening before turning back to his stream. "Chat, doesn’t Y/N look absolutely stunning?"

"Maate, start the bloody game!" Max groaned, dragging out the words in frustration.

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Alright, Lan, I gotta go—they're arriving soon."

"Alex is picking you up?" Lando asked, tilting his head as he kept his eyes on her.

Y/N nodded. "Charles offered to drop us off at the restaurant. I'll bring you home food, and I’ll send you the menu when I get there."

Lando’s expression softened. "Have fun, my love. Text me if you need anything."

"Got it. Bye, chat—" Y/N smiled, giving a small wave as she stepped out the door.

"—What?! Hey, hey, no! Come back—baby, my kiss!" Lando whined, nearly pushing himself out of his seat, watching her leave with a dramatic pout.

She let out a playful groan but stepped back into the room, making her way toward Lando.

"Look at her, everyone—stunning," Lando grinned, taking her hand in his. "Alright, bye, gorgeous. Have a great time."

Y/N smirked, holding her hand up to the camera—mimicking the way Lando had covered it on a previous stream—before leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"Thanks for that, Y/N, really appreciate the modesty," Max's voice rang through Lando's headphones, dripping with sarcasm. "Hope you do that to my eyes next time, yeah?"

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

Don't look at my girl

Lando had been on Twitch for a good hour now, casually playing UNO with Max and a few other friends on who were on Discord. It was all easygoing banter, a way to kill time before diving into a more intense Tarkov session.

Y/N walked in not too long after, carefully balancing plates of food in her hands. Without looking up from his screen, Lando muttered a quick, “Thanks, love,” too focused on his cards to even glance her way.

It wasn’t until the chat suddenly exploded with rapid messages that his attention flickered toward the comments. His brows furrowed, eyes scanning the screen.

"hi Y/N" "okay hot mama!" "Y/N you look stunning babe" "can Lando fight?"

“‘Can Lando fight’—chat, what the fuck?” he scoffed, finally turning his head toward his girlfriend.

And then he saw it.

The slightly cropped, low-necklined tank top hugging her in all the right places, a sight he was very much happy to see, just not so happy to share with the rest of the world.

His reaction was instant. “Baby… where’s the rest of your shirt?” Lando whined, reaching out to tug at the hem of her top as if he could magically make it longer.

Y/N only laughed, swatting his hands away. “It’s literally just a tank top, Lando.”

“Yeah, and apparently, it’s starting fights in my chat.” He shot a glare at the screen before narrowing his eyes at her playfully.

As Y/N stood up, completely unaware of the way the camera was angled, she leaned forward slightly to grab something from behind the monitor.

Lando, ever vigilant with his quick reflexes, moved faster than ever, one hand darting out to cover her chest while the other reached for the mouse, ready to slam the stream off if necessary.

“Woah, woah—baby! Careful, please,” he blurted out, eyes wide as he practically shielded her from the world.

Connor’s laughter echoed through the call. “LN’s about to have a heart attack, mate.”

Y/N, finally realizing what had just happened, let out a soft laugh as she sat back down, napkins now in hand. “I was just grabbing these, bub. Calm down.”

Lando let out a dramatic sigh, clutching his chest like he’d just lived through a near-death experience. “Baby, please, I’m begging—could you put on a hoodie or something?” His voice was almost desperate, eyes flicking between her and the chat that was going absolutely feral.

Y/N raised a brow, arms crossing over her chest. “You’re overreacting.”

“Yeah, well, they’re not getting a free show,” Lando huffed, shooting a glare at the screen before rolling his eyes. With one last grumble, he finally turned his attention back to his game, picking up his fork to dig into dinner—all while side-eyeing the chat every few seconds.

Meanwhile, Max was wheezing through his mic. “I swear you just aged five years.”

Connor chuckled. “Bro’s fighting battles no one else can see.”

"still cant believe he was able to pull her" "Y/N leave him be with me" "she looks unreal" "lando better know how to fight"

Lando didn’t say a word, just stood up abruptly and rushed out of the room, leaving his friends confused as his turn in UNO was about to run out.

“Where’s he gone now?” Max muttered, clicking onto Lando’s stream, only to see Y/N sitting there, casually eating and playing in his place.

She simply shrugged, unfazed, taking Lando’s turn for him as she popped another bite of food into her mouth. A few seconds later, Lando reappeared, arms full, determination set on his face.

“Pick.”

“Huh?” Y/N blinked up at him, mid-chew.

“Pick one. Shirt, hoodie, or blanket?” He stood in front of her, dead serious, holding up the options like this was a life-or-death decision.

Y/N let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Baby, pick.” Lando repeated, unwavering.

“Lan, it’s really not that—”

Before she could even finish, he had already tossed the clothes onto the floor and made the executive decision himself, unfolding the blanket and draping it over her shoulders. “Right, blanket it is.”

Y/N sat there, wrapped up like a burrito, staring at him in amused disbelief.

Max was howling through the mic. “Mate, she���s looks like she's about to go to bed”

Lando glanced over at her, a proud grin spreading across his face as he admired his work. “There. Better,” he said, his tone smug but warm, clearly pleased with himself for making sure she was all cozy and covered up.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how serious he was about it, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she teased, tugging the blanket a little lower, enough to free her hands.

“I’m just making sure you’re comfy,” he replied, his grin only widening. “Don’t want you catching a chill, do I?”

She shook her head, playfully rolling her eyes, but the smile she gave him was all warmth. “You’re something else, Lan.”

Lando only winked, clearly pleased with his efforts. “I try.”

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

Rumour has it

It had only been a couple of weeks since Lando and Y/N had last been seen together in public, but the internet had exploded. Breakup rumors, theories about a fallout, and even claims of a “divorce era” started circulating among fans. Of course, Lando and Y/N found it all utterly ridiculous. But why not have a bit of fun with it?

Tonight, Max was streaming, and Lando was, as usual, by his side. The chat was absolutely flooded with questions and speculations, with fans wondering where Y/N had gone, why they hadn’t seen them together lately, and if they were still a couple. Usually, they wouldn't entertain it, but Lando couldn’t help but grin at the chaos as Max glanced at him, his face filled with mischief.

“Mate, you’ve been dodging questions for weeks now. People are asking if you and Y/N are okay. What's going on? Is it true? Are you in the ‘divorce era’ now?” Max teased, his voice full of drama.

Lando leaned back in his chair, groaning. “Oh don't even say her name around me. We're happily separated,” he said with exaggerated seriousness. He watched as the chat went wild, fans speculating whether he was joking or not.

"this is NOT funny im fighting for my life over here" "i honestly cant tell if hes serious pls" "stop asking ab their personal lives guys" "theyre clearly fine, look at him" "oh theyre fine lol"

Max laughed, clearly enjoying it. “Heard it here first chat, there you go”

Lando shrugged dramatically. “Sometimes, I still hear her voice"

Before Max could respond, the door behind Lando opened. Y/N walked in casually, wearing one of Lando’s hoodies, hair up in a messy bun. She stopped when she saw the camera, raising an eyebrow at Lando’s ridiculous grin.

“Hey, guys,” she said, giving the camera a casual wave.

"See! it's like she's still here” Lando pretends to wipe a tear

Max burst into laughter, while Y/N, confused as ever, attempts to read the chat. "Why are you guys talking about me like I've died?"

Lando looked at her with all seriousness. “Baby please. We're broken up remember, gosh keep up will 'ya"

Y/N nods, the expression on her face immediately switching from confused to locked in. "Oh— guys, being in this room right now pains me. I can't even look at him"

Max, lounging back in his chair with a smirk, couldn't help but shake his head. "You two were definitely eating up this breakup rumour stuff, huh?"

Lando and Y/N couldn't help but break, letting out small laughs at the comment. “Oh fuck yeah, we’ve been lying in bed, giggling like idiots, reading threads and watching tiktoks about it,” Lando said, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“We purposely stopped liking each other’s posts and hid from the public" Y/N grinned, “And had so much fun doing it,” she added, sticking her tongue out at the camera.

Max threw his hands up. “You lot deserve an Oscar for this shit”

Lando, still grinning, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, mate, you’re telling me— I had Carlos knocking at my hotel room at three in the fucking morning after reading some random breakup article online.”

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

Not so subtle

It was well past 1 AM, but Lando was still wide awake, glued to his Twitch stream, deep into another round of Tarkov with his friends. The chat was slowly saying their goodnights, viewers logging off one by one—but Lando? He and the guys were more awake than ever, already planning a few more rounds like the night had just begun.

Y/N was not one to stop Lando from enjoying his alone time, but it was getting late. She had just finished yet another episode of her go-to comfort show—but sleep still hadn’t come. With a glance at the clock and a sigh, she finally got up, padding toward the other room. Maybe she could convince Lando to get some rest… or at least come fill the cold, empty space beside her.

“Baby… it’s late, come to bed.”

Y/N’s soft voice barely stood a chance against Lando’s, drowned out by his rapid-fire strategy talk and the sharp bursts of gunfire from his game. He didn’t even flinch, too locked in, too focused.

It wasn’t until she stepped closer, bathed in the soft glow of his monitors, that the chat began to stir, messages flooding in at the sight of her. Only then did Lando pull off one side of his headset, glancing up at her with a lazy smile.

“Hi, gorgeous. Thought you were asleep already,” he murmured, seamlessly giving out directions to his teammates in the same breath.

“Couldn’t sleep… You should come to bed now. It’s late.”

“I know, baby. Just give me ten minutes, alright?”

“Bedtime for little Lando?” Connor teased, earning a chuckle from Max and an eye roll from Lando.

“Shut up, Connor."

Instead of leaving, Y/N plopped down in the free chair beside him, mindlessly scrolling through her phone. She barely noticed how time slipped by—until she glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed since Lando promised he’d be done.

“Lan, it’s been 15.”

“10 more minutes, baby. Just a little longer,” he mumbled, eyes still glued to the screen.

"he's so stubborn lol" "poor y/n" "listen to ur gf pls lando, im sleepy but i have fomo"

Another 15 minutes passed, and Y/N, now visibly annoyed, let out a sigh. “Lando.” No pet name. Just his name. Max chuckled on the other end.

“Mate, I’d log off now if I were you. Y/N is scary when she’s tired and cranky.”

Lando glanced over, taking in her tired expression. “Baby, go to bed, you look exhausted… I’ll be there soon, okay? C’mere, gimme a kiss.”

Smooth. A clear attempt to buy himself a little more time.

Y/N gave him a blank stare, then simply nodded before standing up. No protest, no further attempts to drag him to bed. Instead, she turned to the stream with a small smile.

“Okay… goodnight, guys. Have fun playing with Lan. Goodnight, baby.”

Lando blinked, a little surprised that his plan actually worked. He grinned up at her, feeling triumphant, until she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, her lips barely brushing his ear as she whispered.

“I was gonna let you have me any way you wanted tonight… your loss.”

His smirk vanished instantly, his head following Y/N's trail, now exiting the room.

"WHAT DID SHE SAY OMG" "look at his face she definitely said something" "bro is cooked lmao" "lando fumbled baaad"

Beyond distracted by what his girlfriend just whispered in his ear, he misses an opponent causing Max to get killed in game earning a battering of complaints

"Gotta log off now guys, goodnight" Lando, without saying a proper goodbye, had managed turn everything off, leaving both the game and his stream in record breaking time.

Max, watching Lando vanish without a word, quickly put the pieces together as the chat exploded with teasing. Realizing he could save his friend from some serious trouble, Max cleared his throat and leaned into the microphone.

“Bet she’s got him in trouble now. He’s probably getting an earful for keeping her waiting.” Max grinned, adding, “Man’s gonna need a serious apology when he gets off. You know how it is—no escaping when she’s upset.”

Even the chat could pick-up how he's working extra hard to save the his best friends from a PR nightmare.

"Max working extra hard tonight" "LN and Y/N got Max sweating bullets lol his face" "Max being the bigger man, respect" "Theyre bout to hear an earful from max too after this"

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Shameless

Chat was going wild. It was a random Friday night, no announcements, yet, somehow, Lando had appeared with his own stream. Even Max, mid-game, was caught off guard when the messages started rolling in, asking him to play with Lando.

Lando, sitting in his chair, still looked like he had just stepped out of the shower, his hair damp, he wore a matching grey sweatsuit and hoodie.

“What’s going on, mate? You’re back early. Thought you two were out for dinner?” Max’s unmistakable voice crackled through the speakers as he joined the group Discord, clearly catching onto the sudden shift in the vibe.

“Aye chat, Max is here! Yeah, mate, we were, but got back home and decided to hop on,” Lando cheered, clearly stoked to hear his friend's voice.

“Loving the enthusiasm, man. You seem happy tonight. You up for some golf?” Max chuckled, amused by the energy radiating off Lando.

“We can play whatever you want, Max. Feeling really lucky tonight,” Lando replied, a grin spreading across his face.

Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with a teasing smirk. “You’re worrying me a bit, mate. You sick or somethin’? Bit too happy for my liking.”

Lando just kept dancing and singing along to his music, looking even more upbeat, and Max couldn't help but laugh. “Alright, what’s going on with you, seriously?”

It was as if the universe had perfectly timed it—Y/N walked into the room, completely unaware that her boyfriend had already started his stream. She was wearing nothing but the white long-sleeved button-up shirt he had worn during their date earlier that night, the one fans had captured in photos. Her hair was slightly messy, giving her a carefree, just-rolled-out-of-bed look as she casually walked in.

"Lan, did you see my cleanser by any chance? It’s not in the bathroom." Y/N stood just by the door, just enough to be in frame of Lando’s camera.

As soon as she appeared, the chat went wild, and Max couldn’t help but laugh, not even attempting to rescue them this time. “Hey Y/N, my chat's saying Lando’s shirt looks better on you than it did on him.”

Y/N froze for a few seconds, her face turning bright red before she quickly dashed out of the room, her voice still audible through the mic as she shouted, “Lando Norris, you little shit!”

Lando, in too good of a mood to keep it together, couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, chat, calm down—we’re all adults here.” He leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face as he wiped away a few tears of laughter.

After a beat, he stood up, still chuckling to himself. “I’ll be back in a minute, guys.”

He left the room, probably heading off to help Y/N find her cleanser, maybe even consoling her after the little reveal. The chat was buzzing with teasing comments, but it was clear Lando wasn’t too worried—he’d be back soon, and the situation was already too funny to be mad about.

"post sex stream is insaaane" "man was glowing, no wonder" "PR team fighting for their life after this" "Landos phone bout to blow up" "meeting being set up as we speak"

Lando returned, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he casually sat back down, as if nothing had happened. “Right, Max, what are we playing tonight?”

Max raised an eyebrow, eyeing his friend with a grin. “Look at him, so smug. Had a great night, didn’t you?”

Lando let out a laugh, shrugging nonchalantly. “Told you, mate, we went and had dinner.” He paused for a second, then winked at the camera, his smirk widening. “Just had to head home early to have some dessert.”

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton Chapter 4, Part 3

Masterpost, (pls no editing or concrit. I am still ill, editing is hard)

“Go deep sea fishing, mother fucker!”

Well, that was sure a phrase to wake up to. Danny wasn’t convinced that someone in the room had actually said it. Maybe he was having a lingering dream. The hand in his hair was nice though.

It was nice to be touched.

So many of that Titans were easy with their touch. Kori was constantly hugging people or draping herself over their shoulders. Nightwing was the same, but he’d also just touch people as he passed them, like he was taking count. Gar loved to sit on a couch with people as an animal. Cyborg was big on high-fives and Donna clasps on shoulders. Raven wasn’t a toucher, but somehow Danny knew that she was reaching out to her teammates in her own way. He wondered how Wally would be, once he was back. He looked like a hugger.

Danny’s pillow shook with laughter. Not wanting to actually be awake yet, Danny turned his face further towards the darkness with a little mumble of noise. The hand scratched satisfyingly against his scalp.

“Is he awake?”

“I don’t really think so,” Danny’s pillow said, “but I think it’s going that way.”

“Good timing, pizza will be here soon!” Another voice chirped.

“You have to make sure he eats.” That was Flash. He could tell by the static hum.

“We will,” the Pillow said. “Gar’s been good about that.”

“Course I have,” replied who must be Gar.

Gar… gar gar gar, gar fish! Beast Boy. Beast Boy had been feeding Danny. His food was pretty good and the vegan stuff was easy on Danny’s stomach. He’d been nauseous on and off since Flash showed up to haunt him.

“Wally,” an accented voice said. Oh, Kori, right. Who was Wally? “It is still your turn.”

“Yeah, but my acting hands are a little busy.” Oh. Oh. Flash was Wally?

Wally.

That fit him, Danny thought. Wally. Cheerful. Also dealing with him has been a real ‘where’s Waldo’ sort of thing. Danny’s own bad joke made him laughter. The snicker was smothered by his pillow.

“Everything good over there, Dick?”

“Probably!” the Pillow said. The Pillow was named Dick?

Danny rolled over enough to peer up at the person he was resting on. It was Nightwing. Or Nightwing without his mask. Unmasked Nightwing was called Dick?

‘Nightwing is a real Dick.’

Really?

“Really?” Danny asked out load. He twisted until he could see Flash. Wally. Whichever. Sure, he as looking at Wally upside down, but he still tried for a scowl. “Really? You secret code to get me into the tower was a joke about his name?”

Wally shrugged. “What? Knowing a hero’s secret identity is a big thing and you didn’t even know you knew. I thought it was pretty prefect, and besides, it worked!”

“I can’t believe you,” Danny said.

“No, this is peak Wally,” Raven interjected dryly. “It’s very much a thing he would do.”

Danny blinked upside down at the rest of the crowd. All of the Titans that had come to support and wait for the Flash were gathered around, sitting on stools and pillows in a semi circle around several pile of cards.

“Are those Uno cards? Aren’t you playing Go Fish?”

“Super Mega Ultra Go Fish!” Gar said, complete with jazz hands.

“Right, what is—no, wait!” Danny spread an arm out, stopping himself. He slipped a little, though Nightwing made sure he didn’t fall, bless him. “Knowing a hero’s secret identity is a big deal! Why are all of you using real names?”

Nightwing—Dick—shrugged and Danny shifted with the motion. “Because we trust you and wearing a mask all the time sucks.”

Danny blinked up at him. “What?”

“You were a hero too, Raven likes your vibe, you nearly killed yourself to help Wally, and you’re kind,” Dick said like that explained it. “We trust you.”

“Oh. Okay?” Danny still didn’t get it, but what else was there to say? “Now what the fuck is Super Mega Ultra Go Fish?”

“You have to do the jazz hands,” Raven said.

With her usual deadpan tone, Danny didn’t know if she was joking or not.

He did the jazz hands anyways.

“Super Mega Ultra Go Fish—” Gar did Jazz hands “—is the Titan’s special version of Go Fish. It’s been developed over many years of friendly games, brutal arguments, post battle insomnia, and one very boring abduction by aliens. We add a new word each time it goes through a major shift, so this is version four!”

“Right,” Danny said, drawing the word out. “And there are Uno cards?”

“And flash cards!”

“Trivial pursuit cards if you’re unlucky.”

“Candy Land—”

“That explains the monopoly board, I guess,” Danny mumbled.

“—and one of Raven’s old oracle decks if shit gets really weird.”

“Y’all are way too proud of yourselves,” Danny said. After a beat he added, “and are so teaching me how to play.”

“Yes!” Gar cheered. “Super Mega Ultra Go Fish has a new player in town!”

“After food,” Dick said, looking at his phone. “Pizza is here. Danny, do you think that if we all move upstairs that Wally will stay around?”

Danny tilted his head in thought. “I think so? It’s always been about his proximity to me, right Fl—Wally?”

“Yep. It’s like you’re my focus point. I don’t know if the machine expands that though based on its location. We can only figure it out if we try though,” Wally said.

“Okay, I missed a lot of that,” Cyborg said. “Translation?”

Danny paused in sitting up. “Huh?”

“Wally is staticy to us. We don’t get every word of what he’s saying,” Dick explained as he reached out to steady Danny.

“Oh that’s… huh. Something to look into. Um, I’m Wally’s focal point but the machine might expand things to you all. We won’t know what the anchor is, me of the machine, until we try,” Danny explained. “Or that’s basically it.”

“But if he disappears, we can get him back?” Kori asked.

Danny nodded and finished sitting up with a little waver. “Yeah. He won’t really disappear, I’ll be tied to him, it will just be y’all's perception of him.”

Kori nodded back. “Okay, then we try.”

“Then we try,” Wally agreed and came to stand by Danny.

If he could have taken Wally’s hand, he would have. Instead he walked out through the door, to the elevator, and rode it up. Everyone else watched Wally so intently that he started to fidget.

They reached the personal floor.

The elevator dinged.

Wally was still there.

[httpsserene]

who told him to get jacked — 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏 oscar piastri x fem!black!reader smau. this is a shitpost, you have been warned. reader is weak for oscar's muscle growth. inspo 1 & 2.

synopsis: oscar’s girlfriend is feral on main.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. i opened tumblr and saw the photos of oscar when he went karting and um…now have another mess of a smau! inspired by the nefarious actions i would do to oscar’s biceps. inspired by @dwarvenchords and @hookhausenschips. it’s short but, enjoy, loves xxx.

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

yninstagram • february 28th

view replies

oscarpiastri: love…you couldn’t even save this for the close friends stories? you had to post it on main yninstagram: did you like my joke? oscar “jack”ed piastri LOL im so clever oscarpiastri: ijbol 😐 yninstagram: i’d be pressed but ur muscles are distracting me oscarpiastri: u should cmere and give them a kiss :)

lilymhe: he let u tie a bow around his bicep?!!! omfg i have to do this with alex yninstagram: i don’t think alex has enough muscles to meet the requirement for the bow :/

landonorris: he’s such a simp landonorris: i would never let my girlfriend tie a bow on me 🥱 yninstagram: step 1: have a girlfriend

logansargeant: your freak out on twitter had a slight mentally-ill aura yninstagram: shut the fuck up and get on a podium before you talk to me yninstagram: gangly bitch + not funny didn’t laugh + L

yninstagram • february 28th • in between my boyfriends tiddies ⚑

liked by, oscarpiastri, mclaren, logansargeant, markwebber, and 1,223,458 others

yninstagram: things to do with your boyfriends muscles; listed in the comments below (a huge thanks to the toto user on twt for FINALLY sending me the photo)

tagged oscarpiastri

view comments

yninstagram 1. tie a bow around them (completed)

➥ user thx for sharing the photo

➥ user FUCK! I CAN’T FIND A PIECE OF PAPER TO WRITE THIS ON

yninstagram 2. kiss them (completed)

➥ user awh how cute! going to nap on the interstate rq

➥ user wait for me!

➥ user omg slumberpartyyyyy

yninstagram 3. touch them (completed)

➥ markwebber there’s a time i thought you were a normal girl

➥ yninstagram who told you to think that??

user i know those arms are rock solid 🥴🤤

user i’m the toto user on twitter !!! she did not kill me y’all !!!

➥ user u were flirting with death babes

➥ user i would not have admitted to this under her post

➥ user you should seek witness protection 🙏🏾

yninstagram 4. have him suffocate you with them (he said no)

➥ oscarpiastri WHY DID YOU INCLUDE THIS ONE

➥ logansargeant i think you’re proving the mentally-ill part y/n

➥ yninstagram u sound jealous logan

➥ user personally, i think if you didn’t want her to say that, you shouldn’t have muscles @/oscarpiastri

➥ oscarpiastri oh! yeah! why didn’t i think of that—lemme just take them off rq 😐 WTH

yninstagram 5. wall sex (?)

➥ oscarpiastri i specifically said not to say #4 and #5 in public

➥ user the question mark is SENDING MEEEEE

➥ yninstagram i mean, i can tell you that he didn’t say no to this one 😈 @/user

➥ landonorris i did not want to see this when i opened ig

➥ yninstagram do us all a favor then and delete ur account x

➥ oscarpiastri what she said^

➥ landonorris :o -> :(

yninstagram 6. draw on them (in progress)

➥ user wait this one is actually cute 🤭

➥ oscarpiastri watching the pure concentration on her face is adorable

➥ user omg she’s so 👉🏼👈🏼 coded

➥ oscarpiastri it tickles lol

➥ yninstagram ur moving around too much

➥ yninstagram might have to tie you to the headboard 😏

➥ user and she’s back on her bs

yninstagram 7. watch him flex for you (ongoing indefinitely)

➥ mclaren do we have your permission to post oscar thirst traps now?

➥ yninstagram i’m sure we could work out something mutually beneficial

oscarpiastri • february 28th • my girl’s basement ⚑

liked by yninstagram, danielricciardo, logansargeant, landonorris, and 1,478,539 others

oscarpiastri she knocked out on my chest halfway through drawing on me. didn’t know this was part of the boyfriend job description, felt like there was some false adverting. overall: 12/10 experience, will be doing this again.

view comments

danielricciardo didn’t know where this was going for a sec but fuck you guys are so cute 🥹

➥ oscarpiastri thank you? i guess

➥ user oh to have my relationship praised by danny ric

➥ user girl ur man responds to your texts two days late

➥ user DAMN u didn’t have to air out my business like thatttt

user WHAT DID SHE USE TO DRAW ON YOU OSCAR??? HELP A GIRL OUT

➥ oscarpiastri its liquid eyeliner 🫡

➥ oscarpiastri she used an eyeshadow palette when she wanted to add colors

➥ user why did i never think of that, she’s so smarttttt

user oscar piastri the MAN that u AREEEE

logansargeant so,,,,are we still getting dinner later orrrrr

➥ user LOL

➥ user omg y/n was right logan IS jealous

➥ logansargeant im not jealous !!!!

➥ user 💀

➥ user okayyyy….we believe you LMAOOOOO

➥ oscarpiastri ijbol 😂

➥ logansargeant stop using ijbol it’s not funny

➥ user this will be the only time that i say i agree with logan on something

➥ logansargeant ur literally a fan account FOR ME?? @/user

➥ user yeah man u didn’t have to bring that up 😒

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos in header image are from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[the-mechanica]

At this point, they've both ditched each other at the altar now

[comet160]

OH I AM BEING SO NORMAL YA’LL

[crazy-hazy-sims]

PLEASE READ THE UPDATE AND THE REPLIES AND THE LAST REBLOG BEFORE I TURNED OFF REBLOGS BEFORE ACCUSING ME OF SPREADING MISSINFORMATION!!!! this post was written before steam realized they had the wrong tags on i agree though pirate EA games <3

As someone who knows alot about piracy please Pirate the sims 1 and 2 because the new rerelease has denuvo tacked onto it and that mf will kill your computers and drain your wifi

let me explain what denuvo is

in short its "anti cheat" code thats only purpose is to complicate the game code so badly that it makes it near impossible for pirates to reverse engineere the game and pirate it, ofc this is not true and Pirates can crack many versions of denuvo it just takes time

so essentially it does nothing but ruin your computer

how?

This extra slop code is integrated into the code of the game so it runs every single time you launch the game and on top of the code slop that games are made of that make your compute heat up and use up ram denuvo code is running ON TOP, using more ram AND internet, forcing offline games to go fully online When the games previously didnt need an internet connection at all.

It has been proven so many times that it cause issues from longer load times to frame rate drops, denuvo's code slows everything down and almost always performance improves by like 50% after denuvo is removed by developers.

There are games that were completely unplayable like they wouldn't even launch because of denuvo, and the company claims this is not their fault and that people should upgrade their computers so this wont happen.. yeah right

Essentially with the reveal that EA didn't fix anything about the sims 1 and 2 and just released them as is but with denuvo attached they literally sold you code to keep you Connected to their servers and force you to not be able to share anything with anyone and forcing the games to preform 50 times worse than their 25 year old selves...

So please dont buy a program that will kill your computers and ruin your games and allow EA to be permanently Connected on your computer thats posing as the sims 1 and 2!!!!

Please please just pirate these 2 games!

Also even though sims 4 is free also Pirate that shit its not worth paying over 1k dollars in dlcs when hslf od them do not work

Update the denuvo tag on steam was a mistake on EAs part it has been confirmed that they dont have it (proof in the REBLOGS) my point still stands though :

PIRATE EA GAMES PEOPLE its literally the better choice for your poor computers

[uraniathegypsy]

To be Hero X Agencies

So I've been thinking alot after Ep. 4 (for....reasons 🥲) but opened up and brought attention of somethings.

One of them being that we get to see more of other Hero Agencies, glimpses of how they operate, and what each of their "brand" is for the Hero Commission.I'd like to dedicated this post on the info that we know and my on personal theories on them.

TREEMAN

First off, we have the Treeman Group whose CEO is Mr. Shand. For their employed Hero/Villain rooster so far has featured:

Nice

Moon

Wreck

Firm Man

Blankster

Lin Ling ( new recruit )

Translated desc.- "a hero agency that makes good use of marketing to shape the hero's personality" (@tbhx_officialCN)

From what we've seen, the mangers and staff take in precaution on how their heroes are depicted on stage, their meet-ups with fans, as well as crafting a boosting narrative for their heroes trust values to grow in the eyes of the fans. They are not above bribery, coercion, and stunt casting in order to push their quota ( as seen by the actions of Miss.J )

Also from what I've seen and gathered, it seems that Treeman possibly owns much of the real estate and city development in this world cause much of their promo features a lot of residential areas and shopping districts with their brand on them.

So maybe them hiring people to play the part of villains is because they are the ones who are able to rebuild plus reshape how fans live and consume.

FOMO

Up next is FOMO, which literally stands for "Fear of Missing Out". Their CEO seems to be this young guy named Zac. Their rooster so far consists of:

Loli

Ahu

Translated desc.- "provides ordinary people with opportunities to speak out and become famous" (@tbhx_officialCN)

So from their general description they seem like the mostly are in tune with what regular people are doing, and finding out what's new and fresh.

From the look of their office space, FOMO it's the most colorful and lively of the 4 agencies. It gives off what a lot of start-up tech, social media, and web HQs like Google and Youtube.

It's possible that most, if not all, of their heroes started out as Influencers or people that became heroes through viral moments on the web. Maybe their dark side is that their heroes have to keep coming up with more new, and exciting acts or content to please their fans to keep raking in Trust Value.

It could be more possible that FOMO has the same guide lines like YouTube, Twitter, and Twitch. ( Which would be pretty bleak ^^')

MIGHTY GLORY

Third, we have Mighty Glory whose CEO is the mystery guy right here. Their rooster, as far as we know, consist of:

E-Soul

Ghostblade

Dragon Boy

Translated desc.- "The ace hero organization Mighty Glory has successfully cultivated many high-ranking heroes" (@tbhx_officialCN)

Just looking at the main heroes they have, this agency mainly focuses on acquiring heroes that have a wide-ranged of fighting and physical skills.

They also seem to have morally gray code and ethics. Some not against pummeling or killing those that they deemed "deserve it".

My theories on the CEO is that he is collects and sees their heroes how a Roman Emperor does with Gladiators. They are valued solely on their combatant attributes and merciless displays, but are kept in line behind the scenes like wild animals or slaves.

DOS

And lastly, we have DOS. I have yet to find what it the abbreviation means, but this is their CEO, Mickey. Their hero rooster, so far in the show, consists of:

Queen

Lucky Cyan

The Johnnies

Translated desc. - "DOS pursues high efficiency by acquiring a large number of small hero companies to grow stronger." (@tbhx_officialCN)

So it seems like they are the largest AND most powerful agency out of the collective 4. It has a very...Disney way of acquiring more heroes to cultivate it's company.

They have means to tap into different markets of branding for their heroes.

On one brand, you can appeal to animal lovers and sell marketable mascot plushies, and on the other, you can appeal to pop star and music fans who want to see their favorite idol to succeed.

Not to mention they hold one of the strongest powerhouses to take the title of X.

O_O!!

Disney Evil! This company is willing to obtain and cultivate their heroes so it can become the most controlling Hero IP out in the world (This CEO is Steve Jobs and Bob Iger rolled into one).

So if their was ever a chance or motive for these agencies claim to dominance. it's DOS.

So I hope you enjoyed my on-the spot, collective analysis and ramblings on the agencies so far. I'm still holding on to some other theories and little details I spot that I want to post soon (hopefully a shorter one ^^')

[natsaffection]

Code Red. pt 2 | N.R

older!Surgeon!Natasha × Younger!Intern!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (N=35, R=24) hospital atmosphere, panic, bones braking, Death

word count: 6,5k

A/n: New part! I mixed in 4 requests again, so I hope it works out well! Redline will have its moment tomorrow!!

Part 1

The cafeteria was a chaotic blend of frantic energy and the thick scent of overcooked food. Interns and residents buzzed around, trays piled high with something that was probably meant to resemble meatloaf and salad. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was a break. A moment to breathe.

You sat at one of the corner tables, squeezed in between Levi and Taryn, your tray untouched as you poked at a sad excuse for lasagna. Your nerves were still fried from the OR. The way Natasha had let you struggle, the pressure, the thrill of finally getting it right..it was all still tangled up inside you.

“God, I feel like I haven’t sat down in days..” Taryn groaned, slumping into her chair like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“Welcome to the glamorous life of a surgeon.” Levi muttered, shoving a forkful of something vaguely green into his mouth. “No sleep, no social life, just patients and cafeteria food that will probably kill us before residency even ends.”

“You can say that again..” Helm mumbled, her eyes half-closed as she stirred her soup absently.

You tried to relax, but your mind kept circling back to the surgery, the look Natasha had given you when you’d finally gotten your shit together, the words that still echoed in your mind.

“I picked you because you were the best.”

You had barely let yourself believe it. But the way Natasha had said it..it sounded real. And then she had walked away with that other woman like nothing had happened-

“So, how’s it feel to be the golden child? First day and you get to assist in the OR with Dr. Romanoff? That’s like, a fast-pass to success.” Levi said, nudging your elbow, snapping you out of your spiral.

You felt your stomach twist. “I-I wouldn’t call it that..” you muttered, trying not to sound so defensive. “I was just…in the right place at the right time.”

Levi snorted. “More like the right place under the right person, from what I’ve heard.”

Your fork clattered to your tray. “What?”

Taryn laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, come on. You seriously don’t know?”

“Know what?” Your voice came out smaller than you intended.

Helm looked up from her soup, eyes wide. “You don’t know about Dr. Romanoff? The hospital’s very own predator?”

Your blood chilled. “Predator??”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Not like that. Just…you know. Romanoff’s reputation.”

“I’m…I’m new. I don’t know anything.” And you felt stupid admitting it. But the truth was, you’d been too focused on your work to care about hospital gossip.

“Let’s just say,” Helm said, lowering her voice, “she’s got a habit of screwing her way through half the staff. Nurses, residents, other attendings..doesn’t matter. She’s…ambitious.”

“She’s a damn heartbreaker.” Taryn added. “Uses people for fun, then drops them like they never existed.”

“Like last week!” Levi piped up, his voice dripping with intrigue. “That poor nurse..Jessica, I think? Came out of the on-call room crying. And then there’s-”

“Definitely Romanoff’s doing.” Taryn said, shoving her salad around her plate. “I mean, we’ve all seen her. She’s hot, yeah, but she’s a goddamn nightmare. The woman’s probably slept with more people than we’ve met in our entire lives.”

You tried to swallow, but your throat felt too tight. Your chest ached, and you hated yourself for it. Because why should you care? You didn’t want Natasha Romanoff. You didn’t want the trouble, the games, the constant battle for control. And yet…

The idea that Natasha had only taken you to bed because you were just another notch in her belt… because you had been convenient..because you were just another one-night distraction…it made something in your chest feel painfully hollow.

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t want anything from Natasha. But that didn’t make the bitter, unwanted sting of rejection feel any less sharp. Levi kept rambling, but the words were just a blur of white noise.

Your eyes dropped to your tray, your appetite completely gone. Was that all it had been? Just fun? Just something Natasha would toss aside, like she did with everyone else? And why did that thought make you feel so stupidly worthless?

You clenched your fork until your knuckles turned white. You needed to forget this morning. Forget Natasha. Forget everything. But the words kept repeating in your head, over and over.

——

You threw yourself into your work. It was the only thing that made sense, the only thing that kept your head above water when everything else felt like it was dragging you down. The whispers in the cafeteria, the rumors about Natasha, the doubt, it all needed to be buried under something real.

So you worked. And for the most part, you were good at it. You were making rounds, running small procedures, and interacting with patients with a calm that felt like a miracle after your complete breakdown in the OR.

“Ah, Dr. Y/l/n, good to see you again!” your current patient beamed, a sweet elderly woman recovering from a hip replacement.

“Mrs. Hernandez.” you greeted her with a genuine smile, pulling up her chart. “And how are you feeling today? Any pain?”

“Oh, always pain, honey. That’s just getting old for you.” the woman laughed, eyes crinkling warmly. “But it’s better. You were right about moving around. Took a little walk with the physical therapist this morning.”

“That’s amazing.” you said, your eyes brightening. “That’s exactly what we want. I told you, you’re stronger than you think.”

“I don’t know if I believe you..” Mrs. Hernandez chuckled, “but you’re pretty enough that I’ll pretend I do.”

You laughed, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Just keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll be out of here before you know it.”

You made a few more notes on the chart, gave Mrs. Hernandez some updated pain management tips, and left the room with a little more confidence in your step. For the next couple of hours, things were…good. You changed dressings, assessed post-op patients, gave instructions to nurses, all with a focused clarity that you desperately clung to.

Because as long as you were working, as long as your hands were moving, your mind couldn’t drift back to what had happened. Or who you had overheard. But of course, the universe had other plans.

“Can you check on Mr. McCarthy in Bay 4? He’s complaining of shortness of breath.” A nurse called as you passed by.

“On it.” you replied, tucking your clipboard under your arm and heading down the hall. You were reviewing his chart as you pushed open the door, already running through possible complications in your mind.

“Mr. McCarthy, good morning. I hear you’ve been having a little trouble breathing?”

“Yeah..” the man grunted, his voice raspy. “Feels like someone’s sitting on my chest.”

“Let’s have a look.” you said, moving closer to examine him. You placed your stethoscope against his chest, listening intently, your brows furrowing. “Breath sounds are diminished on the left side. You’re post-op for a pneumothorax repair, right?”

“Yeah. Feels like it’s getting worse.”

“We’ll get you sorted out.” you promised, forcing yourself to remain calm. “Let’s get a chest X-ray ordered. And I want another set of vitals.”

“Look at you, all professional and bossy.”

The voice sliced through your concentration, deep and undeniably amused. Your spine went rigid. Of course..

The older woman strolled into the room like she owned the place, eyes already locked on you like this was her personal entertainment. Your pulse spiked. Your fingers fumbled as you tried to scribble down notes, your handwriting coming out as little more than a tangled mess.

“Need me to hold your hand, Dr. Y/l/n?” Natasha asked, her voice like silk wrapped around steel.

Your jaw clenched. “No. I’m fine.”

But the way Natasha looked at you made you feel anything but. You tried to focus on the chart, tried to ignore the heat of Natasha’s gaze boring into you, tried to pretend you were still in control.

But your body betrayed you. Your hands were shaking, your grip on the pen clumsy. You went to place it on the counter but missed, the pen clattering to the floor.

“Smooth.” Natasha commented, one eyebrow arched, her smirk sharpening.

You bent down to grab it, your cheeks burning. “It’s…it’s nothing.”

“If nothing means sweating like you just ran a marathon, then sure.”

“Dr. Romanoff.” you said, your voice coming out weaker than you intended, “I’ve got this handled.”

“Oh, really?” Natasha’s eyes gleamed with something like amusement, but also something else. Something more unsettling. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re about two seconds away from passing out.”

Your lips tightened. “He needs a chest X-ray to check for recurrence. His vitals are all over the place and I was just about to order a blood gas to make sure we’re not missing something.”

Natasha’s gaze lingered on you, almost like she was daring you to break. But instead of commenting, Natasha turned her attention to the patient. “Shortness of breath, pressure on the chest, pain radiating anywhere?”

“No, just feels like I can’t breathe.” Mr. McCarthy croaked.

Natasha’s fingers moved to the man’s side, pressing gently but firmly. “Pain when I do this?”

“Yeah. Right there.”

“Sounds like your lung’s reinflated poorly or you’ve got fluid building up.” Natasha said smoothly. “Dr. Y/l/n, what’s your plan?”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing to catch up. “I…I think we need a thoracentesis to relieve the pressure.”

Natasha’s eyebrow arched, her smirk returning. “Good. And who’s going to do it?”

You blinked. “I-uhm-”

“Exactly, you.”

Your heart stuttered. “Me?”

“Yes. Now, not later. Unless you want him to crash before we get him upstairs.”

You forced your body to move, your hands still trembling as you prepared the procedure. Natasha’s gaze remained on you the entire time, scrutinizing every movement, her presence unrelenting.

“Your grip’s too tight.” Natasha commented. “Loosen up or you’ll miss the right spot.”

You did as instructed, your pulse hammering in your ears, your breathing shallow. “Better.” Natasha said softly. “See? Not that hard when you stop freaking out.”

The procedure went smoothly. The patient’s breathing eased, his color slowly returning to something resembling normal. But your nerves were still frayed, your hands clammy, your heartbeat still erratic. And Natasha just kept smiling.

The morning after was a whirlwind of chaos. You had barely slept. Every time you closed your eyes, the image of Natasha Romanoff’s smirk haunted you, her taunting voice echoing in your head, telling you that you were falling apart, sweating like a sinner in church, unable to keep up.

But you had gotten through the day so far. Kept yourself busy with routine cases, kept your hands steady, kept your thoughts away from the mess you had walked into when you arrived at Grey Sloan Memorial. Everything was going fine. Until it wasn’t.

“Dr. Y/l/n!” a nurse called out, hurrying over to you. “We’ve got a situation. Ambulance just brought in a trauma patient. Gunshot wound to the chest. Low pressure, shallow breathing. Trauma bays are full and the OR is prepping for him now.”

Your pulse quickened. You were still only an intern, barely starting to find your footing. And now they were trusting you with a gunshot wound? But then the nurse’s words replayed in your head. “The OR is prepping.”

That meant Natasha would be there. Of course. Of course, she would be. And if you walked in there, stumbling over yourself, hands trembling like you were about to collapse…

No. You couldn’t think about that. This was about the patient. “Where is he?” you asked, your voice slightly strained but functional.

“Coming in through the west entrance. Bay’s prepped. You’re taking him up.”

“Right.” You adjusted your gloves, swallowing your nerves as you hurried to the entrance where they were rolling in a bloodied, unconscious man strapped to a stretcher.

“Brian cooper, gunshot wound to the left side of the chest.” the paramedic called out as they wheeled the stretcher in. “Through and through. BP’s dropping fast. Systolic’s down to 80. Breath sounds diminished on the left side.”

The man’s chest was soaked in blood, the shirt shredded where the bullet had torn through. His skin was cold, clammy.

“We’ve got to get him up to the OR.” you said, your voice growing steadier with each word. “Page Dr. Romanoff. She should expecting him.”

“Already on it.”

They transferred him to a gurney and started pushing him toward the elevator. You held onto the rail, your mind running through the necessary steps, clinging to the structure of the routine like it was your only lifeline.

“Come on Brian, stay with me.” you murmured as the doors slid shut and the elevator jerked into motion. But the progress was slow. The patient’s blood pressure continued to drop, his breathing growing more labored. And the elevator wasn’t moving fast enough.

Too slow. Way too slow. The numbers blinked sluggishly above the door. Three. Four. Five-

A horrible lurch. The lights flickered. The soft hum of the elevator motor stuttered. And everything stopped.

“No. No, no, no, no…”

You stabbed the button for the surgical floor, your fingers frantic. You hit the emergency button, your heart slamming against your ribs.

“Come on, come on!” You slammed your palm against the control panel, your other hand reaching for the emergency button. “Is anyone out there?! The elevator’s stuck, and I have a critical patient! I need help!”

The only response was the shrieking of the heart monitor. “Oh god. No, no, no… Stay with me, Brian. We’re almost there. They’re gonna fix this! You just need to hang on a little longer!”

But his breathing was barely a gasp now, his chest heaving shallowly, each breath a struggle. His lips were starting to turn blue.

“Hey! Can anyone hear me?!” Your voice cracked, the panic strangling you, your fingers still jabbing the buttons like it would somehow force the elevator back into motion.

Suddenly the door opened a crack “Hold on, here is-” The voice cut through the fear like a razor. “Natasha!” you gasped, hope was evident in your face.

“What the hell are you doing in there?” Natasha’s voice was thick with irritation, and something else, something sharper, almost panicked. “The patient was supposed to be brought straight to the OR.”

“I was- He-” Your words stumbled over each other, your throat tightening. “It…it just stopped! I can’t get it moving. He’s crashing, Natasha.. His blood pressure’s bottoming out, his pulse is through the roof, and I…I can’t-”

“Stop. Breathe.” The tone shifted, a blade honed to precision. “Tell me what you see.”

You glanced down at the gurney. Blood soaked through the man’s shirt, the makeshift bandages drenched, the cloth useless against the bleeding. His chest barely rose with each strained breath.

“Gunshot wound. Through and through. Entry point near the left collarbone, exit just above the lower ribs-“

“He’s bleeding internally. He’s going to be dead before the elevator even moves.”

“Okay, but..I can’t just…what do I do?” Your voice came out as a desperate whimper.

“What you do is not panic.” Natasha’s tone was brutal, unrelenting, and somehow, exactly what you needed. “Listen carefully. I’m right here. I’ve got the tools you need, but I need you to be ready to use them. Understand?”

“I- Yes. I understand.”

“Good. I’m pushing the surgical kit through the gap. You need to grab it. His heart’s already struggling to beat.”

You shoved your fingers into the narrow space between the elevator doors. Through the crack, a metal case was shoved toward you, the scraping sound making your teeth clench.

You dragged it inside, your breath coming out in harsh, shallow bursts. “Okay, I’ve got it.”

“Open it. You need to access his chest. And I don’t mean some tiny needle procedure. I mean a thoracotomy. You need to get your hands in there.”

“Wait, what?! No- no, I can’t. Not alone! There should-”

“Yes, you can. Because if you don’t, Brian’s going to die, and you’re going to have to live with the fact that you could’ve saved him. Now, do you want to be a surgeon, or not?”

Your fingers trembled as you flipped open the case. Inside, the scalpel gleamed, the bone spreader gleamed dully next to it, and there were clamps, gauze, suture kits. Everything you needed.

Except for confidence.

“What…what do I do?”

“First, you cut.” Natasha’s voice was low, brutal, and it forced you to move. “You need to make an incision. Anterolateral thoracotomy. Start at the sternum, follow the ribcage down to the mid-axillary line. You know the drill.”

“Okay…” Your fingers tightened around the scalpel.

“Now, cut. Clean, deep, and fast. Don’t half-ass it.”

Your fingers trembled, but you pressed the scalpel against Brian’s skin and sliced. The blade bit deep, a sickening give of tissue parting beneath your hand. Blood welled up immediately, a dark river pouring over his chest.

“Good. Deeper. You need to get to the ribcage. His heart’s being compressed by blood. You have to relieve the pressure.”

You swallowed, your stomach lurching, but your hands moved. You cut down, deeper, following the curvature of his ribs. Your gloves were soaked, sticky and warm with blood. The wound was wide, gaping.

“Okay…Okay, now what?”

“Bone spreader. You need to break open the ribcage. It’s the only way you’ll reach his heart.”

“Break-”

“Yes. Now.” Your hands shook as you picked up the bone spreader. You slid it into the incision, your fingers clenching so hard your knuckles ached. You began to crank the handle, metal forcing bone apart with a series of wet, horrible cracks.

The sound was nauseating. But there it was- the heart. Flickering weakly, struggling to beat against the pressure.

“Blood’s compressing his heart. You need to get your hands in there. Find the source of the bleeding and clamp it off.”

Your hands hovered uselessly.

“Listen. If you don’t do this right now, he’s dead. Your hands. In his chest. Now.”

You forced your fingers forward, sliding them through the gaping incision, your entire arm sinking into the wound. The heat of blood and muscle engulfed your hand. Your fingers scrambled, searching for the bleeder.

“Feel around the heart. You’re looking for the artery that’s been nicked. It’s like trying to find a crack in a dam. Small but deadly,”

There was an edge of urgency to Natasha’s words, her earlier anger now replaced with something sharper. Focus. Determination.

“I-I’m trying..!” your voice trembled, your breath coming out in ragged gasps. “I can’t- I can’t feel—”

“Yes, you can. Slow down. The artery will be hot, pulsing. Blood will be gushing out like a broken pipe. Just..move your fingers. And do it now.”

You swallowed the panic clawing at your throat and forced your fingers deeper. Your muscles strained, your shoulder aching from the angle. But then.. There. A horrifying gush of warmth poured over your fingers, thick and relentless, coating your hand in a surge of fresh blood.

“I-I found it! It’s…it’s torn. Oh god, it’s torn..”

“Good. Now, you need to stop the bleeding. You’re going to press your fingers around the tear. Pinch it. Like you’re clamping a hose. Do not let go. Understood?”

“Yeah. Okay. I can do that.” Your hand adjusted, your thumb and forefinger squeezing around the torn artery. The sudden pressure made the bleeding slow, the frantic beeping of the monitors easing just slightly.

“Okay…okay, I think…I think I got it..” you whispered, your voice hoarse and strained.

“Check. Don’t think, just do. Is the bleeding stopped or not?” Natasha snapped, her words a whip cracking through your panic.

Your gaze locked onto the open chest, your fingers still pressing against the clamp. The pulsing of blood had slowed, the river reduced to a mere trickle.

“Yeah…It’s stopped. Oh, my god, it’s stopped-“

“Uh, this is Maintenance. We’re here to get the elevator moving. We’re gonna need you to stay clear of the doors and just hang tight while we-”

“Definitely not!” Natasha turned to the voice. The sudden change in tone sent a chill down your spine.

“What?” The maintenance guy sounded startled. “Ma’am, we need to get the elevator moving. Just give us a few minutes and-”

“No.” Natasha’s voice was icy, each word dripping with authority. “You are not touching this elevator until I say so.”

“But, Dr. Romanoff, we were told-”

“I don’t care what you were told. What I’m telling you is to stay the hell away from that control panel. I have a terrified intern inside performing an open-chest procedure with nothing but emergency supplies and pure adrenaline. You interrupt her, you so much as make the lights flicker, and I swear to God, I will have you scrubbing bedpans for the rest of your life. Got it?”

There was a long, agonizing pause. “Uh…Yes, ma’am. Understood.”

“Good. Now shut up, stand back, and don’t touch a goddamn thing until I tell you to. Clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. Clear.”

“Natasha?” you managed, your voice trembling. “What do I do now?” Your voice cracked, your entire body burning from holding your position, your arm cramping from the effort.

“You keep doing exactly what you’re doing,” Natasha said calmly. “Hold pressure. Keep him alive. Because now, I need him stable enough to actually save him once you’re out of that damn elevator.”

“But-”

“No buts. You keep holding on. They’re fixing the elevator now. You’ve bought him time. Now all you have to do is keep him from bleeding out before they can get you up here.”

Your entire arm was numb, the muscles cramping, your shoulder throbbing with pain. But your fingers stayed clamped around the artery, refusing to let go.

“Now.” Natasha continued, her voice lighter, almost teasing. “You need to stay exactly like that. Don’t even think about moving. When the elevator doors open, I’ll be right there. And I’ll take over. But until then, he’s yours. Understand?”

“Yes. Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.” Something about the praise made your entire body flush, but you had no time to think about it. Not when your arm was buried in a man’s chest.

There was a shuffling noise outside the elevator. And then a distant voice, Maintenance. The idiots who had nearly interrupted you.

“Dr. Romanoff? We’re ready to get the elevator moving. Just need your go-ahead.”

“Give me a second, Y/n.” She moved away from the door, her tone dropping to a sharp, commanding whisper. “Listen to me carefully. The intern inside is holding a man’s life in her hands, literally. If you make that elevator jolt, so much as sneeze near it, and she loses her grip, you’ll have his blood on your hands. You’re going to lift this elevator gently. Smooth. No hiccups. No sudden movements. Got it?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am. Got it. Gentle. We’ll be careful.”

“Good. Start moving it. Now.”

There was a faint groan of metal, the hum of the elevator finally coming back to life. It started to rise, slowly, carefully. But even that subtle motion made your fingers clench tighter around the torn artery, panic flaring in your chest.

“I’m still here.” Natasha’s voice came through the gap. “Just keep holding pressure. You’re almost there. And when you get here, I’ll take over.”

“Okay. Okay..”

“You’re not going to let go.” The elevator continued to climb, the seconds stretching into eternities. The tension in your muscles was agonizing, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

Not when Natasha’s voice was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. The elevator gave a gentle, final lurch. Your eyes stung from the sterile lights of the hallway, your vision swimming as the faces of nurses, doctors, and maintenance workers blurred together.

But your eyes only locked onto one person. Natasha. She was standing right there, her scrubs spotless, eyes sharp and glittering with a mix of intensity and something else. Something almost like…pride.

“Don’t you dare let go.” Natasha warned, her gaze glued to the blood-soaked scene before her. Before you could respond, Natasha was inside the elevator, a presence so commanding that the rest of the hospital staff instinctively backed away, making space for her.

And then Natasha’s hands were on him. Replacing your fingers with practiced precision, checking your grip, making sure your frantic attempt to save him hadn’t been for nothing.

“Good.” Natasha’s voice was low, approval sliding through the harshness. “You’ve done well. He’s alive because you didn’t let go.”

The words sent a rush of heat through you, but it was overshadowed by the sheer relief of having Natasha there.

“What do I do now?” you asked, your own voice sounding like it belonged to someone else. Weak. Trembling.

“Now?” Natasha’s smirk returned, her eyes gleaming with something unsettlingly like amusement. “You keep holding pressure. Just like that. Because if you let go now, he’s going to crash before we even get him into the OR.”

“But… I thought you were-”

“Oh, I’ll take over. But you’ve already got your hands on the bleeder. Moving you out of the way would just make things worse. So…” Natasha’s gaze flickered down to her own hands as she adjusted one of the clamps. “You’re coming with me.”

Your throat tightened. “What?”

“You heard me. You’re not done yet.” Natasha’s voice was steady, assured, the tone of someone who expected to be obeyed. “We’re wheeling this guy into the OR, and you’re going to keep your fingers exactly where they are the whole way. If you let go, he dies. And I really don’t feel like losing a patient today. So hold on.”

“Okay… okay, I can do that.”

“Good.” Natasha leaned a little closer, her voice dropping to a silky purr. “And Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“You just proved you can handle more pressure than most of the idiots working under me. So don’t blow it now.”

There it was again. That stupid, ridiculous warmth blossoming in your chest, the way Natasha’s words somehow made you feel like you were capable of doing this. Like you weren’t just some scared intern with your hands buried in a dying man’s chest.

Natasha’s gaze flicked to the maintenance workers standing by, their faces pale with shock. “Alright, get this damn elevator moving. And do it smoothly. If I feel so much as a bump, you’ll all be applying for janitorial positions tomorrow. Got it?”

“Y-Yes, Dr. Romanoff. We’ll, uh, we’ll be careful.”

They were terrified of her. And somehow, you couldn’t blame them. The elevator hummed to life, the movement almost imperceptible. But you felt it. Your entire body tensed as the machinery groaned and lurched.

“Easy.” Natasha’s eyes never left you. “Keep your grip. Focus on his heartbeat, not your own.”

“I can do that.”

The elevator crawled upward, each passing second stretching into an eternity. Your arm throbbed, your muscles burning with the strain of keeping your fingers wrapped around the torn artery, holding life in your hand like it was something fragile and easily lost.

The doors finally opened to the OR floor, the sterile white hallway waiting for you like some cold, indifferent maw. But Natasha was already in motion.

“Move! Get him into the OR! You, stay exactly where you are. Hands still on the artery. You’ll let go when I say so. Not a second before.”

The gurney lurched forward, Natasha steering it with a ferocity that left everyone else scrambling to keep up. You stumbled along, your hand still buried inside Brian’s chest, the elevator and its nightmare feeling like some distant memory.

“Natasha, I-”

“Not now. Talk later. Right now, you hold on and keep doing exactly what you’re doing. You got this far. Don’t fall apart now.”

The OR doors swung open, the flood of light and frantic movement swallowing you both. Nurses, residents, everyone was waiting, their voices a blur of medical terms and questions.

But your focus was only on Natasha. “On my count.” Natasha ordered. “One. Two. Three. Let go. I’m taking over.”

Your fingers released, your arm finally jerking free of the gaping wound. Natasha’s hands replaced yours in a matter of seconds, her gaze never once breaking from the surgical field.

“Now get out of my OR before you collapse on my patient.” Natasha snapped, but her voice lacked the usual bite. She sounded almost…proud.

You stumbled backward, your own heartbeat roaring in your ears, your legs trembling as you practically fell out of the OR, your own blood-smeared hands shaking uncontrollably.

You felt like you were vibrating. Every nerve in your body was thrumming with an energy you had never experienced before. Your fingers still twitched, phantom sensations of blood and torn flesh still echoing through your nerves.

But you had done it. You had actually done it. Brian had been alive when they wheeled him into the OR. His pulse had been weak, thready, but there. Because of you. Because you had kept your hand buried in his chest, holding a torn artery together like your life depended on it.

And when Natasha had finally taken over, her movements swift, confident, unyielding, it had felt like the culmination of something impossible. Now, you paced the corridor outside the OR, your hands trembling, your chest tight from the adrenaline still pounding through your veins. Nurses and residents moved around you, but they were just shapes, voices blurring into nothing.

You couldn’t keep still. Couldn’t let go of the electric rush coursing through you. A few of your fellow interns gawked at your blood-soaked scrubs, whispering to each other with a mix of awe and horror. But you barely noticed.

All you could think about was what had just happened. Your pulse was still racing when the OR doors finally swung open. Natasha strode out, her scrubs stained with blood, hair a mess, eyes glinting with something hard and sharp and deeply satisfying.

She looked like she had just fought a war and won. You practically launched yourself forward. “Natasha! Oh my god. That was…I don’t even have words. That was insane!!”

Natasha’s gaze flicked over you, eyebrows arched in mild surprise. “You’re still here?”

“Yes, I- Are you kidding? That was the most intense thing I’ve ever done. I-” Your words tumbled out, uncontrolled, your voice pitching high and fast. “I had my hand in his chest, literally holding his heart. And I didn’t screw it up. You were right there, talking me through it, and I…I actually did it..”

Your hands made wild, frantic gestures, your eyes gleaming with something like triumph. “I mean, I was terrified, but it was incredible. And the way you took over? God, you were like a machine. Just..perfect.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her expression unreadable. “You sound like you just won the lottery.”

“Because I did! Well, not really, but…I mean, you were there, right? I kept him alive. I kept him stable. I..I saved him..”

You could barely contain yourself. The rush was still thundering through you, a chaotic mix of pride, excitement, and something that felt dangerously like pure euphoria.

“I mean, I literally had a man’s heart in my hands..” you continued, your voice breathless. “And I didn’t panic. Not really. I did it.”

Natasha’s expression remained unreadable, her gaze flicking toward the OR doors, then back to you. “Yeah. You did.”

The words were slow, careful. But there was something in Natasha’s eyes- something not quite right. “What’s wrong?” Your smile faltered, the excitement thrumming through your veins suddenly too loud, too frantic.

Natasha took a slow breath, her shoulders sagging just a little. “Brian didn’t make it.”

The world seemed to lurch sideways. “What?” you whispered, the word feeling like broken glass in your mouth. “No…No, he was stable. He was alive when you took over. I did everything right. You said-”

“I said you kept him alive long enough to give him a chance. And you did.” Natasha’s voice was firm, her words precise. “But it wasn’t enough. His heart was too weak. By the time we started repairing the artery, it gave out.”

“No…” Your head shook violently, your mind refusing to process what you were hearing. “But…I-I held him together. I did everything right..?”

“And you did.” Natasha agreed, her gaze sharp, unwavering. “You kept him alive in that elevator. You kept his heart beating long enough for us to try. That’s more than most surgeons could’ve done.”

“But he’s…dead?”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes.”

All that adrenaline, that frantic energy, that surge of confidence-it all crashed down at once. Your knees felt weak, your entire body sagging as if someone had pulled the strings out of you. Your hands still shook, stained red from the life you thought you had saved.

“I…I really thought…”

“Welcome to surgery.” Natasha’s voice was blunt, but not unkind. “Sometimes, you do everything right and it’s still not enough. That’s just how it is.”

The rush of adrenaline was gone, leaving nothing but a hollow ache in your chest. The realization that you hadn’t saved him. That your first miracle had been nothing more than a temporary delay.

You had left the OR corridor as if in a trance, your legs moving purely out of instinct. Your hands still trembled, even after you had scrubbed them clean three times. The hot, sticky blood was gone, but you could still feel it.

Still feel the heat of Brian’s heart pulsing against your palm. Still hear the weak, desperate beats struggling to survive.

And then, nothing. You had failed. Your first real test, your first real moment to prove you were worth all the praise and expectation Natasha had thrown at you. And you had still lost him.

The days that followed were a blur. You pushed through your rounds with a mechanical precision, your movements robotic, your voice hollow. The other interns watched you like you were some kind of tragic legend already forming. The intern who had been buried up to her elbows in a man’s chest and still couldn’t save him.

Every time you passed Natasha in the hallway, the woman’s eyes followed you. Watching. Assessing. Like she was waiting for something to snap. But you didn’t snap. You just…shut down.

Days later, you sat at the far end of the cafeteria, a half-eaten sandwich lying forgotten on your tray.

“Y/l/n”

The voice startled you. You glanced up, eyes bleary from lack of sleep. “Natasha.”

The woman’s name tasted bitter on your tongue. Like something you’d lost the right to say. Natasha slid into the seat across from you, her expression calm but her eyes intensely sharp. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Bullshit.”

The word hit you like a slap. You stiffened, your fingers clenching around the edge of your tray. “Excuse me?”

“I said, bullshit.” Natasha repeated, her voice low, harsh. “You’ve been shutting down. Avoiding everyone. Burying yourself in mindless work like it’s going to make the guilt go away.”

“Why do you even care?” you shot back. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To push me so hard I’d fall apart? Congratulations, mission accomplished.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “You think that’s what I wanted?”

“I don’t know. You threw me into the deep end and told me to swim, and I still-”

“No. You weren’t supposed to save him.” Natasha interrupted. “You were supposed to give him a chance. And you did. Sometimes, even when you do everything right, it’s not enough. That’s part of the job.”

The truth hurt. Because it was exactly what you had been refusing to accept. “I should have saved him..” you whispered.

“Maybe. Maybe not. What matters is you did everything you could. And most interns wouldn’t have even tried.” Natasha’s gaze held yours like a lifeline. “And you’re going to pull yourself out of this. Because you don’t have a choice.”

“And if I can’t?”

“Then I’ll make sure you do. I pushed you because I know you can handle it.”

And for the first time in days, you felt something other than crushing guilt. You felt something almost like… hope.

Part 3

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