#meds. also I was fine it was just a hell of a 24 hours))

[ziracona]

So apparently some medications for mental disorders have the side effect of the patient putting on weight. I headcanon that in the epilogue of In Living Memory Laurie manages to convince Michael to see a doctor in spite of his Dr. Loomis trauma and get medication. But how would Michael feel about the side effects and how would the survivors react?

Yeah medication can have lots of side effects. Weight gain is a pretty common one, but not all of them cause it, and if you’ve got a decent doc, they work with you to find a medication that works for you and doesn’t cause you any symptoms that distress you.

In post-ILM canon Michael does very eventually try medication, although only like a decade later once Quentin is a doctor and can prescribe medication himself, because he’s literally the only doctor Michael will ever trust at all. It’s super hard for him, although more emotionally and traumatic memory triggers than physically, and it’s a lot of spiking aggression and old habits to deal with that takes a bunch of time, support, and patience. But he doesn’t have any especially upsetting to him side effects. I think that was a big thing. Like, taking meds was hard enough. If he took them and they made him feel in any way worse, he’d have gone ballistic. A little weight gain could happen idk I haven’t thought about it, but I doubt he’d even notice bulking up a little more, much less be distressed by it or something. Mostly for him it’s just the whole having to take medication at all that’s hard. Does help with the symptoms some though so god bless his support system getting him to do it.

[walkawaytall]

I really wish there was more interest in how to handle ADHD other than just addressing the symptoms that affect the people around us.

Like, the best pharmaceutical treatment we have right now is stimulants, and I agree that being on stimulants 24 hours a day, 365 days a year is probably not good for your body. Hell, I’m on a less-than-ideal dose of my medication from a concentration perspective because the ideal dose had my resting heart rate sitting at a cool 115BPM. I know taking med holidays is important. I know all of this.

But because ADHD isn’t just an attention problem (or may not actually be an attention problem at all at its core), it sucks that the only time period medical professionals seem to be concerned about treating are the “important” times: the length of a school or workday. Forget the fact that ADHD affects executive function, forget the fact that people with ADHD often experience chronic and unending anxiety and/or depression as a result of the ADHD, forget that there are important times that have nothing to do with an 8-hour school or work day, forget the rejection sensitivity dysphoria, the sensory issues that make things like clothing, food, and group situations a nightmare to try to navigate, the household stuff that has to be taken care of outside of the 8-hour school or work day. It feels like none of that matters because it doesn’t affect a group of fifteen or more people.

On top of ADHD, I have been plagued with anxiety-related issues for the majority of my life. I likely have a form of OCD and I have a history with a restrictive eating disorder; both of those conditions are very closely associated with high levels of anxiety. I’ve been on anxiety medications before. I was first given an as-needed medication that took the edge off but also made everything feel a little fuzzy, like there was a pane of glass between me and the rest of the world; I was put on an SSRI that somehow made my OCD-related intrusive thoughts about 50x worse than usual and had me wondering at one point if I should be hospitalized; and I’m currently on buspirone, which is doing what it’s supposed to do without the side effects of the others thankfully. But nothing, and I mean nothing, has reduced my anxiety as much as my ADHD medication.

Two hours after my first stimulant dosage, I just suddenly didn’t feel on-edge any more. I estimate that being on ADHD medication has reduced my anxiety by about 70% (buspirone’s for the other 30%). I started taking it in the summer of 2020 and I remember, in 2021, when I saw my boss in person for the first time since lockdown, he remarked on how much more confident I seemed, how I was more likely to speak up in meetings, etc. And I was like…yeah, man, it’s a wonder what not feeling anxious every second of every day will do for someone.

ADHD affects so much more of my life than just attention and anxiety, too. I have sensory issues with mine, which is pretty common, and they make eating — an already sometimes-complicated task due to the ED history — difficult at times because, while I can eat foods that I don’t particularly like, if something is what I call “the bad texture”, I will gag no matter how hard I work to overcome it (believe me, I’ve tried). And my brain sometimes decides that foods that were previously fine are now “the bad texture” and they may or may not shift back to being okay eventually; I don’t know.

The sensory issues affect me socially. My therapist and I have recently come to the conclusion that I’m probably not actually an introvert, but if I’m around larger groups, that means noise and movement and probably being touched, and too much of that causes my brain to either freak out or shut down. I used to always say, “I love people, but when I’m done, I’m done.” And that was likely because the overstimulation was building and building in the background, and at a certain point, my brain would just be like, “We gotta get outta here.” I was Queen of Irish Goodbyes for a very long time because of this.

And the executive dysfunction affects…well..everything? Not just work, not just school (but also those because if my environment is chaotic, my brain feels chaotic, and it is difficult to maintain a non-chaotic environment if you keep getting stuck on order of operations when picking up a room).

I’m not saying that I want to be on longer-lasting stimulants or that I want to be on the higher dose that I know helps my concentration more, cardiovascular system by damned. What I’m saying is, I wish treatment research had been more holistic rather than just figuring out what would give teachers and managers an easier time despite what the person with ADHD might be dealing with as soon as their meds wear off.

Maybe current research is working on it; I don’t know. I just know that, the older I get, the more frustrated I am with my brain and the more apparent the deficiencies I used to be able to counteract with pre-chronic-illness energy and crushing perfectionism become, and I wish there was an answer to this that actually helped me most of the time rather than forcing me to pick which parts of my day/week is “important” and making sure I’m medicated for those parts.

[killian-whump]

Obligatory Health Post

Some of you might remember my right ear from such happenings as “What the fuck is this noise in my right ear?” “Why won’t this noise go away?” and, my personal favorite, me likening the noise to this:

At some point, I stopped bitching about it. It didn’t go away, mind you, but I just got sick of talking about it and - I assume - everyone else probably got sick of hearing about it. I did, however, continue seeing doctors and trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with the damn thing. Well, long story short, my ear is perfectly fine - but I got a CT Scan a few months back that showed, and I quote, “a constellation of abnormalities” inside my motherfucking head.

Chief of which is “severe” venous sinus stenosis - fancy medical words that basically mean the main vein that moves blood (and cerebral spinal fluid) out of my head and into the rest of my body is functioning about as well as JJ Sneed’s knees at this point. The noise I’m hearing is the blood (and CSF) literally having to force its way through the vein.

Allegedly, I can somehow continue being not-dead with this shitty hardware malfunction going on, but it’s causing a back-up of cerebral spinal fluid inside my skull, as it’s not able to drain properly. So my head is, right now, literally full of shit you guys. There’s so much shit in there, and the situation’s been building up for so long, it’s actually changing the shape of my skull. Fascinating.

Pictured Here: a slightly less alarming way to reshape one’s skull.

Aside from remodeling my brain cavity, the fluid also causes headaches and dizziness and nausea and coordination problems and visual disturbances... that eventually lead to blindness. The condition’s called Pseudotumor Cerebri, because the symptoms basically mimic those of a brain tumor. Or, as my sister puts it, “All the fun of a tumor without the cancer.” I mean, I guess.

Thankfully, I only have some headaches and the infernal noise from hell inside my right ear. However, I have an appointment with a new doctor on Friday - who is going to give me some kind of massive eye-and-head exam that’s supposed to take 3-6 fucking hours. He’s gonna tell me how bad the fluid issue is and what I might have to do about it (could be nothing, could be meds, depending mostly on whether or not he thinks I’m in danger of losing my sight). I’m hoping he can determine that through the eye exam and the scans I’ve already had done - otherwise, he might order a spinal tap to measure the pressure on my brain. The only way that’s gonna happen is if he gets me so motherfucking high I have no clue where the fuck I am or what’s going on - which would be like any other day for me, really, aside from the ginormous needle in my fucking back.

The doctor’s also going to tell me what we’re going to do about the stenosis itself. That’s likely going to be “do nothing and keep an eye on it” or “put in a stent” - depending on which route the doctor feels poses less of a stroke risk. If he does nothing, then I’ll probably need to be on meds (reportedly unpleasant ones, yay) to control the fluid in my head and keep getting CT scans to keep an eye on the stenosis’s development. If he opts for the stent, it should fix everything all in one quick shot, but it means 24 hours in the ICU and fucking brain surgery. If I need to be higher than a kite to even consider getting a spinal tap, just imagine the kind of carnival of insanity I’m gonna need to survive that.

However, the stent is metal, so maybe I’ll set off metal detectors? Also, I might be able to get away with calling myself a cyborg afterwards. I mean, it’s not a pacemaker or anything, but it’s metal in my body, right? If I can’t be a cyborg I just don’t see the point of any of this at all.

Anyway... Despite my attempts at humor here, I am scared to death. Humor’s just my way of dealing with... Well, everything. The only alternative is not dealing with it at all, which... Well, let’s just say that there’s at least a 50% chance that on the day of whatever procedure I have to get that I’ll just be here posting Colin pics and talking about his butt like nothing’s going on at all - because I’ll be hiding in the fucking coat closet of the medical clinic, praying the wifi signal holds because Colin’s butt is magical and might be the only thing that can save me 😭

Pictured Here: Magical Leather-Clad Butt of Wonder

So that’s your update! Friday’s the day. Please send me good vibes, positivity, prayers, Colin shower GIFs, butts, or whatever it is you feel comfortable doing. I could really use the help. I’m (probably not really, but maybe) dying here 😭

[owltypical]

super long dump post about various irl things

a coworker of mine passed away at the beginning of the week. he’d actually left the company back in september, so i hadn’t seen him in several months, and i wouldn’t say we were super close, but. he was on my team, and we saw each other and talked and interacted and spent time together at work hangouts pretty much constantly over several years.

he was only 29. not sure how it happened, just that we heard from his family that it had, and his memorial page and viewing/funeral times were shared with us. it was definitely a great shock to us, i hid myself in the bathroom for a bit and cried. hadn’t cried properly in a long time due to my brain meds, so i had a sadness headache for a couple days.

he was a very pleasant, polite, and nice young dude. politics rarely come up at work though i knew he came from a religious catholic conservative background, but he was pretty socially conscious and angry/disillusioned about a lot of the shit he saw going on; i saw him grow from those roots over that time and i wonder how he’d turn out in the end if he’d been given proper time to finish growing. one of the kindest, most patient phone voices i ever heard.

it sucks so extra hard when somebody suddenly dies young like that. technically he was already out of my life when it happened, but that’s the closest to someone’s death i’ve been in ages, possibly ever, other than i suppose my cousin who passed away a few years ago. i’ve never been to a funeral, the few deaths i’ve encountered have been very distant and slightly unreal, even with family. but this was someone i knew and saw irl and who was part of my everyday life for quite a while; now he’s just suddenly gone, he’s ceased to exist. just memories and pictures.

literally the next morning after that another of our team members had some sort of medical episode at work; paramedics came and took her away in an ambulance. not sure what happened, she seems to be fine now thank god, but it was very scary at the time. that one-two punch in less than 24 hours made for a very mentally and emotionally strained week for us; so far 2023 for me has been kind of muted and spent grieving.

speaking of brain meds: started a new mixed dosage of stuff just today. the previous prescription was helping, but not enough, and had side effects that i felt were hampering my progress elsewhere. hopefully this new combo works out! i want more energy during the day, i want to sleep better at night, i want to have this dumb brain in a more orderly shape. i want to feel artistic and draw again.

not sure what i’ll do if i start feeling better about art again, though. i keep fretting that i just don’t have it in me to do big detailed print-ready longform comic stories, and never really have, despite how many times i’ve tried over the years. maybe i really do just need a partner to work with, i don’t know. i’m also second-guesing myself about the overall setting of outliers. i was always very tickled by weird/background stuff in comic book superhero settings since my youth, but the last few years i’ve completely soured on exactly that; the absolute glut of comic book movies and tv series have been overwhelming and tiring and obnoxious, it’s made me very jaded about the whole thing. and i don’t want to be seen as part of riding on that particular bandwagon either.

kind of trying to figure out what the hell to do in general. i make enough to survive just fine, but not enough to actually grow or go anywhere or make any real changes. affordable housing is nonexistent these days, absolutely everywhere, not just the places i would actually be interested in moving to. wages suck, everything costs way more now, good luck getting where you’d like to go without selling a few organs and cramming into some hole with three other equally desperate roommates. i’d donate plasma but apparently one of my arms has bad invisible veins so i got told to go away.

it’s real existential crisis times over here, i guess. i’m less than two years away from 40 now; i thought i had more time to figure some things out but an injury and good ol’ covid stole a large chunk of my prime 30s away from me. i want to move and improve my station in life, but how? i want a partner, but dating’s hard, especially the older you get and especially when you’re ace. i want to draw, but i worry that i don’t truly have the stamina and time to do everything i want to do, and that i’m running out of time in general. it’s stupid, i know it’s just youth-oriented culture and the world’s aggressive ageism messing with me, but it’s hard to feel like the countdown to 40 isn’t some sort of doomsday clock terror. too late for love, too late for family, too late for careers and making something of myself artistically. brains are stupid.

well. here’s to the brain in question getting better via updated meds, and here’s to 2023 having something good happen during it, i suppose. i hope.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 12*

Chapter 11

(i fucked this up by editing on my phone and now I have to post the next chapter link like this. )

Whoooo buddy! The angst is REAL, y'all.

I apologize for this, but also I really don't. And I made it normal length to make up for that short shitty one earlier.

Enjoy!!!! Mwahahahahha

Tag List

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@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

---------

It seemed like forever for the ambulance to get there, Rafael just sat there trembling and crying while you started to convulse in his arms. Finally the door busted open and EMT’s threw you on a gurney and took you downstairs. Rafael sprinted behind them and jumped in the back of the ambulance as it sped away.

“Y/N….Carino please, please don’t die on me…” Rafael stroked your hair as you were hooked up to oxygen and anti drug meds. It was like literal hell having to watch this all over again, even worse that it was someone he actually...loved.

“Please, please don’t die…” He looked up to the sky.

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

Rafael paced the hospital waiting area furiously, they wouldn’t let him go back with you once the ambulance got you both there. When he saw Sonny running up the hallway towards him, he grabbed him by the neck and shoved him up against the wall.

“I TOLD YOU!!!!” He screamed violently, while several nurses ran over and pulled them apart.

“Rafael! Jesus Christ--” Sonny was breathing heavily while he tried to recover from Rafael’s ambush.

“I told you something was wrong, I told you I knew her better than you did!” He tried to wrestle away from the nurses.

“Okay I’m sorry, I’m sorry alright?!” Sonny yelled, tears starting to fill his eyes. “I should have listened to you--”

“You’re god damn right you should have!!!” Rafael continued to scream.“ She could die right now, do you realize that?”

“Of course I realize that!” Sonny screamed back while looking around them, trying not to make a scene.

“God dammit Carisi, she knew better than you. Why didn't you listen to her?!” Rafael was beginning to cry; he was so upset.

“Barba I--” Sonny started to apologize.

“Excuse me, is Miss Y/L/N’s family here?” An orderly came out from the back.

“I am!” Sonny forgot about Rafael and ran over to the man, Rafael did the same.

“I’m sorry sir but this is really just a family conversation--” He started to dismiss Rafael, but Sonny put his hand up.

“He’s fine,” He assured the doctor.

“Right, well--” He cleared his throat as he led them to a more quiet area. “The damage to Y/N’s body is pretty bad,”

“....God,” Sonny muttered, putting a hand over his forehead.

“The mouthwash has several chemicals that aren’t in traditional grain alcohols, mostly lethal. And her pancreas, liver and gallbladder were already severely damaged from the years of alcohol abuse,” He explained as he looked gravely between the two men.

“No…” Rafael put his hands over his face.

Flashbacks of a very similar conversation happening between a doctor and his mother filled his mind. The way his mother fell against the wall when she heard the doctor say there was a good chance his father was never waking up.

“How bad is it, doc?” Sonny’s voice quivered, and Rafael instinctively took his hand.

“Well, we had to completely remove the gallbladder, and parts of her pancreas so she’s most likely going to develop diabetes,” He further explained. “...And she most likely will need a liver transplant, depending on how the next 24 hours go,”

“Christ…” Sonny whipped his hand from Rafael’s touch and put both of his hands over his head while he paced.

“Can we see her?” Rafael asked.

“Yes, you know your daughter is very lucky to be alive,” The doctor informed them.

“...Excuse me?” Sonny asked while he and Rafael exchanged confused looks.

“...Are you two not her dads?” The doctor waved his pen between the two men.

“Oh my god,” Rafael muttered in horror, wanting to vomit right there.

“Uh, no sir-- no we’re not,” Sonny shook his head. “I’m her uncle and this is my partner,”

“Excuse me?!” Rafael practically screamed in disgust.

“...Do you want them to let you back there to see her or not, honey?” Sonny said through his teeth.

“Right,” Rafael nodded uncomfortably, taking Sonny’s hand once more. “We’re her...Uncles,” He tried not to grimace.

“Oh, right. So sorry sirs,” The doctor apologized once more as he led your “Uncles” to the room you were in. You were unconscious, but breathing on your own.

“She might be out a while from the meds, if you’d like to come back tomorrow,” The doctor informed them once more.

“Uh, I think we’ll wait at least for a little while, if you don’t mind doc,” Sonny replied while Rafael walked up to your sleeping body and just stroked your hair lovingly.

“Whatever you two want to do is fine with me,” He nodded. “I have other patients to see, if you’ll excuse me,”

Sonny nodded to him and he walked out of the room leaving the three of you alone. Sonny ran his hands through his hair while Rafael pulled a chair up next to your bed, still stroking your hair.

“...Barba I think you should leave,” Sonny said softly.

“...What?” He laughed. “Are you...are you fucking joking me, Carisi?”

“No look,” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, I’m sorry I didn’t hear her. And I’m sorry that I just...gave up, protecting her,”

“Yeah well--”

“But I hear you now, and-- and she’s going to need to go away,” He looked at your sleeping body sadly.

“She’s in no shape to go anywhere, Carisi,” Rafael clutched your hand as if he was protecting you.

“Not now, no,” Sonny agreed. “But when she’s better--”

“We don’t know if she’s going to get better!” Rafael suddenly stood up and walked towards him; Sonny backed up as he approached, afraid Rafael was going to grab him again.

“Even more reason you shouldn’t be here!” Sonny argued.

“What?”

“Barba look,” He cautiously put a hand on Rafael’s shoulder. “I...I get that you two have some kind of-- I don’t know, connection,” He glanced at you.

“But it doesn’t change the fact that you barely know her, and she barely knows you. You have a job and a life waiting for you tomorrow, you can’t be sitting here sitting vigil for some girl you slept with once,”

“How dare you fucking say that to me, Carisi,” Rafael’s eyes narrowed as he snapped his shoulder from Sonny’s grasp.

“How fucking dare you. First you don’t want me anywhere near her, then you tell her she’s nothing to me, then suddenly you think that I’m in love with her, and-- and now that I’m finally...attached to her-- you want me to just leave her alone again?”

“No, I never wanted you near her because of this exact situation!” Sonny hissed, trying not to wake you. “I told you straight up that she was complicated, and that you weren’t about that life,”

“I am about that life-- I’m serious, about her,” Rafael corrected himself, rolling his eyes at the terms Sonny used.

“Well I don’t think you should be,” Sonny crossed his arms.

“This is the jealousy thing again, isn’t it?” Rafael licked his lips angrily. “You and your stupid ego can’t stand the fact that we--”

“That is NOT it Rafael and you fucking know it,” Sonny narrowed his eyes.

“Then what is it?” Rafael crossed his arms. “It’s clearly not because it’s too much for me, because I’m flat out telling you it’s not,”

“Rafael--” Sonny placed his hands over his face. “I have spent my life protecting this girl, okay? And I may have dropped the ball here, but that just means that I will sure as hell not do it again. And that means that I have to have her best interest at heart,”

“What does that even mean?” Rafael looked at him quizzically.

“Her whole world is different now, Barba!” Sonny gestured to you. “You heard the doc. She has no gallbladder, whatever the fuck that means, she will probably get diabetes, god knows what will happen even if she needs a liver transplant, but my guess is it ain’t good!”

“...Well she won’t be able to drink alcohol,” Rafael said softly.

“Which will make her sobriety that much more urgent and permanent, Barba,” Sonny stepped towards your bed.

“She’s gonna have a long hard road ahead of herself no matter which way this goes right now, and keeping her on track is the only way she is gonna get through it. You think she’s gonna be able to focus on anything but you if you stay here?”

“I can help her--” Rafael insisted, glancing down at your innocent sleeping face. It broke his heart you were hurting, now all he wanted to do was take care of you and make sure you never hurt again.

“You don’t have the time or the freedom to do that, Rafael,” Sonny said sternly. “And you know it,” Sonny’s statement brought him back to reality.

“And you do?” He looked back up at Sonny.

“I’m a detective, Barba. It’s not like I do that much,” Sonny shrugged. “And I have enough PTO for a bit to take care of her. And she’s my responsibility! She’s MY family, Liv will understand that. What she won’t understand is you sitting Shiva at some young girl’s bedside who you barely know,”

“....And what are you going to do when she gets better?” Rafael ran a finger down your bare arm, wishing you would wake up and stop this nonsense your cousin was spewing.

“I’ll ask around,” Sonny now sat next to your bed. “I’ll find her a good place, somewhere she can be taken care of the right way, not some creepy mental hospital,”

“...Alright fine,” He sighed, looking at his watch. It was getting late, and he had an early court date.

“I’m coming back--”

“No, you’re not,” Sonny shook his head. “Look I promise you if she gets worse and needs your emergency liver or kidney or somethin’, I’ll let you know. Other than that, just-- leave her be,”

Rafael flashed back to the last time Sonny had used those words, and how as soon as he agreed, you heard him and it destroyed you. He couldn’t do that again, what if you could still hear him?

“No, I’m coming back--”

“Barba if you come back here I’m gonna tell the nurses that we broke up and you are no family member of hers,”

“You,” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t do that--”

“If it keeps you away from her, I’ll do anything right now Barba, I’m sorry,” Sonny gave him a sympathetic look.

“...She’ll never forgive you for this, Carisi,” He warned Sonny. “When she finds out you kept us apart she will never forgive you,”

“What are you Romeo and Juliet all of a sudden, counselor?” Sonny scoffed. “Give me a friggin break. I’m sure she’ll get over it, when she’s clean and sober and thinking straight,”

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” he growled with a death glare.

“...Yeah, well--” Sonny stood up and started escorting Rafael out the door. “I guess that’s something I’ll just have to live with,”

Rafael glared at him once more before turning on his heels and stomping down the hall, just as you stirred from your med nap.

“Sunshine?” Sonny quickly ran to your bedside.

“Rafa..?” You sleepily asked, you swore you heard his voice just moments ago.

“It’s Sonny,” He nervously looked back at the door, making sure Rafael hadn’t heard you wake up and came running in again.

“Oh,” You blinked several times, trying to get your vision back. When the blur in your pupils resolved, you saw Sonny’s smiling face beaming at you.

“Hey there,” He kissed your forehead. “You scared the shit outta me there, Sunshine,”

“...I’m so sorry, Sonny,” You began to cry in remorse.

“Hey hey hey,” Sonny took you in his arms and shushed you while he rocked you. “Shh shh shh, you’re alright. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you when you were asking for help, I just--I just let you go,”

“...But Rafael didn’t,” You sniffled as you looked around the room for him. “Where is he?”

“He uh--” Sonny stammered. “He left, Sunshine. Early court meeting tomorrow, y’know. Lawyer stuff,”

“Right,” You nodded.

“...He said he wouldn’t be coming back,” Sonny added with a sympathetic look.

“What?” You blinked in disbelief. Had he really just taken off? Without even saying goodbye?

“Well it’s just,” Sonny took your hands. “Honey you’re-- you’re gonna have a lot to go through these next few weeks, maybe months. And Rafael--”

“He doesn’t have time for that,” You finished for him, accepting the truth.

“Yeah,” Sonny nodded slowly.

“Right,” You picked at your blanket as you stared down at it morosely. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything more than him dropping me here. He tried telling me that he was--”

“He was what?” Sonny quirked an eyebrow. You thought about telling him that Rafael had said he was in love with you, but you weren’t entirely sure that happened anymore, given how out of it you were at the apartment.

“...He was ready for a relationship,” You lied. “But I guess he wasn’t ready for a dumpster fire of a girlfriend,”

“You’re not a dumpster fire, Sunshine,” Sonny assured you.

“...Yeah clearly this doesn’t scream ‘damaged goods’,” You gestured to all the wires you were hooked up to.

“You’re not--” Sonny sighed and shook his head as he wrapped his arms back around you. “You’ll find someone,”

“...Not someone like him,” You whispered sadly, tears dripping down onto your IV tube.

“Well hey,” Sonny coughed as he tried to change the subject. “I better get goin’ make sure you get some good sleep,”

“...But I was just--” You tried to say you had been sleeping this whole time.

“I’ll come check on you tomorrow, kay?” Sonny kissed your head and started heading towards the door. He hated to do this, but he had to keep you safe. He turned around and gave you a sad smile.

“Hey, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, Son?”

“I uh, I don’t wanna rub it in or nothin’, I just--” Sonny cleared his throat. “Barba wanted me to tell you not to contact him anymore,”

“...Oh,” You looked over at your phone, which was charging on the table next to your bed.

“He just thought it would be easier, y’know? Clean break and all,” Sonny lied with a sad smile.

“Yeah, sure no of course,” You nodded, trying to keep it together.

“Alright well, I’ll see ya,” He nodded one more time before shutting the door, leaving you alone.

You immediately grabbed your phone and began typing a message to Rafael, telling him how you were sorry and that you never should have tried to kick him out, and that he saved your life and that you knew you were a huge mess, but that you would clean yourself and do everything in your power to be good enough for him if he just let you--and you just stared at it.

You re-read it a thousand times, tears streaming down your cheeks. You couldn’t send this, it was pathetic. He already made his choice, he tried to tell you he loved you and you had blown him off by almost dying in his arms. And he ran. You couldn’t blame him either, you’d run away faster than a Kenyan track star if you were him.

After going through all that bullshit with his dad, he’d never want to relive that with you, some girl he barely knew. There was no way. And begging him to come back to you after all the shit you said to him at your apartment was just pitiful.

You deleted the message and then started to delete his contact info, but you knew you needed to be drastic. If it was a clean break he wanted, you’d have to give it to him. You’d already put him through way too much stress and punishment than he deserved, you had to be stopped. You highlighted his number and hit “BLOCK NUMBER”, before deleting it from your phone.

There. Now there was no way you could find him, or vice versa. Clean break. You put the phone down next to you and laid down, realizing what you had just done. You had just deleted the potential love of your life from your existence, forever. You cried yourself to sleep, only dreaming of Rafael.

=============

Rafael laid down in his bed after getting home and showering the bad day off of him. He opened the text thread of your messages, and saw the ellipsis light up, signaling that you were typing. It was there for a long time, he became more and more anxious as they just flashed in the darkness, taunting him. He was so happy you were okay, he had to tell you what Sonny said but that he would never be able to keep him from you. He waited and waited, and then the dots were gone. He waited a moment for you to send it, but soon got impatient and just texted you

“Y/N I’m so glad you’re okay, you had me so worried. I miss you,”

He hit SEND, but was met with the most horrifying response:

“The number you have texted has blocked you from contacting them.”

“No…” He muttered alone in the dark. “No, this can’t be happening,”

Did Sonny have your phone? Did he do this? Did he tell you something to make you do this? Did you do this on your own when you realized he had left. Sonny had to have told you something bad, something diabolical. He had no way of contacting you now, and he would never get into the hospital to see you.

What was going on?

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

The next morning after his court session, Rafael headed over to the precinct to talk to Sonny. He practically sprinted through the door into the bullpen, to find it empty.

“...Where’s the SVU squad?” Rafael asked a cop at the front desk.

“Do I look like a concierge, Barba?” The cop rolled his eyes. “Does my badge say ‘doorman’? I don’t keep tabs on you people!”

“Thanks Louie,” Rafael rolled his eyes as he walked out of the station, dialing Sonny’s number on his phone.

“Hello?”

“What did you do?”

“Barba?”

“What did you do, Carisi?!”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N blocked my number,”

“Well good--”

“NO, not good. Carisi. What did you say to her?”

“Y’know Barba, maybe you should take the hint and move on,”

“Oh fuck you, Carisi,” He growled into the phone. “I’m going to the hospital,”

“Yeah well, good luck getting in here counselor,” Sonny shook his head with a small laugh, glancing over at you in your room, while he stood outside. “I’ve told the nurses you were a deadbeat dad who wanted to kidnap our niece for yourself, so they’re on alert not to let you anywhere near her,”

“You’re evil,” His voice was low and horrified.

“I’m doing what’s best for my baby cousin, Barba. If that makes me the bad guy, so be it,” Sonny spoke like a mob boss, tracing the glass on the window to your room.

“I’ll see her when she gets out,” Rafael sneered.

“Well that might be difficult, seeing as I’ve found her a very nice place to go as soon as she gets outta here. Somewhere far away from here, and you,” Sonny couldn’t help but smirk.

“No, Carisi don’t do this,” Rafael became desperate, his angry threats turned to pathetic pleas. “Please don’t send her away-- I love her,”

“If you love her you’ll let her go, Rafael,” Sonny simply said, ending the call before Rafael could say anything else.

“GOD DAMMIT!!!!” Rafael screamed in the middle of the foot traffic, making people turn and stare at him.

He had to fix this. He couldn’t let you leave thinking he didn’t want you. He couldn’t lose you, not now. Not after everything.

Was he going to lose you forever?

[kumapillow]

Psycho-Pass Radio CID 24 Hours a Day: Mandatory Happiness #03 Learning Crime Prevention Measures with Komissa-chan [24H]

Here’s a translated summary of the third audio drama from the Mandatory Happiness web radio, a.k.a. the mandatory Komissa PR program episode per season.

Read after the cut. I hope you enjoy 😀

(I also opted to post the audio for this since Tsurugi and Kou imitating Komissa-chan’s voice sound ridiculous lol)

—x—

Tsurugi (monologue): "Psycho-Pass is the indicator of a happy life." That has become an accepted truth, and with it a lot of things have changed.

     Crime prevention is one of them. Before, "crime prevention" meant taking measures in order to steer clear of crime. But in this day and age where the Sibyl System is in operation, the crime rate is virtually zero. Because of this, the meaning of "crime prevention" has also changed. Now...

Tsurugi and Kougami have been assigned to present a kid-friendly crime prevention program. Tsurugi expresses his surprise at this, and Kougami comments that it's probably the PR department's doing again; apparently they always seem to request for CID Division 1 whenever there's an event where Komissa is slated to appear. Tsurugi says this kind of task is more suited to Akane or Kagari, but Kougami mentions they're busy with another case, so it's up to the two of them.

Tsurugi: Oh, yeah, Gino-san mentioned that you're the Komissa pro, 'Gami-san... Kougami: What kind of nonsense is that guy telling now...      Whatever, this is also part of the job. We gotta work for our paychecks.

Kougami then asks for tomorrow's script, so Tsurugi brings it up. Kougami's really not up to it, but decides they should at least see what's in it. Tsurugi reads the program's title:

Crime Prevention Quiz with Komissa-chan! Which of these keeps your Hue clear?

He gets confused at this, asking if what they're doing isn't a crime prevention program after all, and Kougami answers that crime prevention in the PSB's definition is preventing people from becoming latent criminals, so the program's content isn't technically wrong. Tsurugi thinks about it and agrees; if someone is thinking of some crime like burglary, their crime coefficient will have increased and they probably won't be able to freely walk outside. Kougami says that the premise in their society now is that crime doesn't and won't occur, which means that crime prevention nowadays means thinking of oneself not as a possible victim but a perpetrator, so it's become important to take preventive steps from becoming a latent criminal. Even though in reality, crime does still occur.

Tsurugi then comments that's just turning a blind eye to what's happening, and he doesn't particularly like it, but if that's what the government is saying, then so be it; with Kougami adding that them hounds just have to follow along with their owners' whims. He then urges the junior Enforcer to continue reading.

Tsurugi: Umm... (imitates Komissa voice)     Question no. 1: "Early to bed, early to rise" is one of the first steps to have a clear Hue. But one night before a rest day, you carelessly stayed up late. What will you do? Kougami: (imitates Komissa voice)     A. Wake up at the usual time, and sleep at the usual time later.     B. It's okay to oversleep.     C. Wake up at the usual time, and sleep earlier later.

Tsurugi says it's probably okay to oversleep if it's a rest day, but Kougami disagrees, noting that since they're talking about keeping your Hue clear, then A is the correct answer because keeping your habits is one of the basics in mental care. Tsurugi isn't convinced, saying it's also important to loosen up a little, and it's difficult for a child to be sleep-deprived, so Kougami thinks maybe it's C, since sleeping earlier next time will make up for staying up late.

They then look up the answer: All choices are correct! (Tsurugi: What the hell?!)

Kougami reads the explanation: "A is correct because it's good to keep your regular habits. B is correct because it's good to keep yourself well-rested. But let's make sure to sleep at the usual time later. C is correct because it's good to wake up early. We should make up for the lack of sleep by going to bed earlier later."

Tsurugi then continues reading, that in case they're not sure what to do, they should consult their home secretary AI that monitors their condition, which will surely give them a good answer. Kougami then notes that a commercial for one of the sponsors is going to play right after, a company called Paradise Shift which specializes in creating home secretary AIs.

They proceed with the next question.

Kougami: (imitates Komissa voice)     Does everyone here eat their food without being picky? Enjoying different flavors and tastes is good for your Hue. Tsurugi: Hm, yeah, that's true. Kougami: (continues in Komissa voice) But if there is something in your meal which you don't really like, what do you do? Tsurugi: (imitates Komissa voice)     A. Eat it without leaving anything.     B. It's okay to not eat it.     C. Add some flavors to it that you like and eat it.

Tsurugi chooses C, saying that if you're gonna eat it anyway, at least make sure it'll taste good. Kougami disagrees, choosing A, adding that the hint is there in the topic (enjoying different flavors is good for your Hue). Tsurugi counters that that would only make them feel unpleasant.

Looking at the answer: All choices are correct! (Kougami: Wha-! Again?!)

Checking the explanation, Tsurugi relays that A and C are correct based on what the two of them surmised, and B is also correct since "the nutrition content of Hyper Oats-based products can be adjusted, so leaving food you don't like will not have a bad effect on your health."

Kougami continues reading, that auto-servers can always make food to your liking, and can also help you get used to tastes you don't like. Then another commercial is going to play, this time for Gusto, a company that makes premium auto-servers.

Tsurugi: Hey, 'Gami-san, isn't this program just a— Kougami: Don't say it. Tsurugi: But look at the next questions: "Who do you consult when you get into a fight with a friend?", then, "When is a good time to stop and take meds when you're depressed?" Kougami: All of that is relevant to mental care. Tsurugi: Then, commercials for a counselling employment agency and a pharmaceutical company come right after! Kougami: All of that is relevant to mental care. Tsurugi: This program is just one huge commercial! And it just basically tells you to rely on Sibyl for everything! Is this really ok?! Kougami: It's fine, right? We don't really have the right to say anything about it. In this world, to abide by the Sibyl System is the right thing to do. Tsurugi: Man...is it really wrong to feel strange about all of this...? Kougami: Don't worry, I feel the same way. But that's precisely the reason why we became latent criminals.

(both sigh deeply)

(end)

[godofplumsandthunder]

Twisted Fate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cancer, both Bucky and reader have cancer, Major Character death, brief hospital terms mainly reffering to cancer treatment. References to amputation.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @eurynome827​ 2k celebration. I got a lovely quote of lyrics from Hadestown, which I wanted to do something that was based off of the musical, but I couldn’t figure anything out. Then I had a big anniversary come up and this was came out instead. It’s very angsty, I cried a lot, and well I hope you like it.

The low, steady hum of the fan fills the awkward silence. The psychiatrist, newly assigned to the case, still doesn’t feel comfortable. “Case number 32557038” was widely known in the health care center. The whispers and rumors floated their way down the hall, past the copy machine, filling the office with this chilling tale. Some regarded it as a terrible series of bad luck, others thought it was an act of some benevolent God, pouring his rage on this poor couple. Dr. Breynord, after reading the notes on the file, Breynord knew that this case was perhaps the worst case of bad luck she ever saw in her career, and, maybe it was her stubbornness or naive belief in medicine, but Dr. Breynord was going to help this poor man get the peace he so desperately needs.

“James,” Dr. Breynord’s voice breaks the silence of the office, “I’ve read what my colleagues had to say about your case, but, I’d like you to tell me what has happened if you feel comfortable.”

Shifting in his seat, James sighs, with a small nod of the head, he starts at the beginning.

Bucky Barnes was used to change. Granted, it was other people’s change, but it was still change nonetheless. The poor folks that sat next to him each clinic visit changed, his caretakers changed, it seemed as if the whole world changed around him, while he was stuck in some perpetual hell. Every day dragged out in the same dull, and nauseating feeling, and at times, Bucky felt he was in an endless loop, forsaken by some deity he didn’t believe in. But, for however long Bucky has left in this fallen and cruel world, he’ll remember when you walked in, shattering the miserable purgatory he was banished to, he’ll always remember the day you changed his life.

It happened during his first transfusion session after his surgery. His arm, still wrapped in bandage, IV tubing leading straight to his heart, pumped his body full of liquids, as he waited for the toxic poison to enter his body. He always found it ironic, the “medicine” that was supposed to save his life, that was too dangerous for the nurses to touch with their bare hands, was willingly flushed into his body. Hair loss, mouth sores, and muscle aches were the better side effects. He can’t help but think about what is coming, especially as he sees his nurse, Thor, come over with the freshly made batch of poison [STRIKE THROUGH], chemotherapy as his doctor would want him to call it. Hanging the bag on his IV pole, Thor looks over at Bucky, giving him the “I’m going to go on a rant about something you should care about” look. 

“Now James, we’re getting a new patient today. It’s their first transfusion. They’re going to be sitting in the pod next to you. I swear to the gods, I best not hear another complaint about your attitude.”

“Me? An attitude? No, I think you got me confused with someone else. I’m the brightest little ball of sunshine here!” Bucky can’t help but chuckle. It’s not his fault he wasn’t a “warrior”, blasting “Fight Song” 24/7, as he sips on a kale smoothie with coffee suppositories shoved up his ass. T

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barnes,” Thor shakes his head as he cleans up his station, “don’t think I won’t throw your bald ass out of here. That cancer sob story, won’t work on me.” 

Bucky goes back to his phone, already feeling the effects of the chemo. No matter how many anti-nausea meds they fed him, Cisplatin always makes him sick. So, he had the right to act like a grumpy old grandpa. While he scrolls through his social media feed, seeing all the accomplishments, brags, and just shit of his friends, Bucky hears your sniffles, as you make your way down to the end of the Oncology clinic, taking a seat next to Bucky. Even if Thor hadn’t given him the heads up, he would have known you were fresh meat. One infusion, his mom asked him how he could tell. It was easy for Bucky, it all had to do with the eyes. A cancer diagnosis shatters you. It kills all hope, light, and goodness that’s in you. You turn completely numb to the world, to the point where your own wailing and sobs feel muted. Bucky saw all of that in your eyes. Behind the puffy, redness, saw the shards of hope, the fear of the unknown. Before you could reach your seat, you stumble, spilling your possessions that you carried all over the floor. Bucky watches quietly as you quickly pick up your items, collapsing into the chair next to him. 

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a hand, only have the one,” he wiggles his stump, and he's met with silence. Talk about a rough crowd, he thinks, his nephews love his stumpy jokes. “So,” Bucky continues, “what are you in for? I’m a sarcoma, in the arm.” You sniffle as you turn your body to look at this new man.

“Leukemia,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. It takes a real effort to say it out loud because then it makes all of this real.

“That’s good then,” the “sarcoma” man says to you, and Bucky can see the confusion, and pain on your face.

“How is that good? How is cancer good?”

Using his arm, Bucky points around the room, giving you a tour of the room.

“See him, that’s Riley, he has an inoperable brain tumor. That young kid, with the Switch? His name is Peter, his body is chemo resistant. So yeah, leukemia is good. If you haven’t learned it yet, not all cancers are made equal.”

“Oh,” you barely make out. What were you supposed to say to that? 

=====

Much to Bucky’s surprise, he actually enjoyed having your company. Your treatments lined up and so you both got to know each other well. Bucky enjoyed having someone close to his age that understood his problems. And it also didn’t hurt that you had such a great personality, you got Bucky’s dark humor (and it went without saying that you understood it was his way of coping), and you looked great. Not many people can rock a bald head. And Bucky has seen his fair share, and he can say with confidence, you rocked it. Not covering it up with caps, scarves, or wigs. Because why should you hide away? For the first time since his diagnosis, Bucky had a purpose. So, while his immune system allowed him to leave the house, he picked up a bouquet of fake flowers (neutropenia life, am I right?) and a box of chocolates to take with him to the next transfusion. When he got to the clinic, Bucky was a bit worried to see that you weren’t next to him. Instead, there sat Barb, 75 years old with breast cancer. 

“Oh sweetie, are those for me?” Barb looks at the flowers in Bucky’s hand. 

“No!” He snaps, as closes the curtain that surrounds his chair. He hears some huffs and complaints from Barb, but frankly, he doesn’t give a damn. Bucky only has one thing on his mind: you. 

“Are you alright? You’re not here at Club Med” Bucky texts as quickly as his one hand would let him. Dropping his phone, Bucky stares at it all while the nurses prep him. And because of damn, HIPAA, none of the nurses can tell him where you’re at. Minutes turn into hours, and by the time Bucky’s infusion ends, you still haven’t responded to him or shown up at the clinic. 

“Hope you’re okay. Call or text me. I'm worried” Bucky sighs, realizing how much you made his chemo treatments more bearable. How your laugh could make him forget of the poison he had to take, or how the light in your eyes could make him forget, even just for a bit, how much his arm stump was hurting. You were a drug, more potent than any he’s had before, and Bucky was becoming addicted. He’s picking at the hamburger he got for dinner, not having much of an appetite when his phone goes off. Seeing it’s from you, he rushes to answer. 

“Y/N! I… Where were you? I missed you today. I had to sit by Barb and…” The sounds of your cries cut Bucky off. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, Buck. I… Got some bad news today.” 

“Where are you?” He asks. He knows you’re alone, and speaking from experience, you never want to be alone when you get bad news. He knows from experience.

“Buck…” you sigh, “It’s fine. Really.” 

“Please, Y/N, I know what it’s like to be alone after getting this kind of news. Please, let me be there for you.” Breaking further down into tears, you cry at Bucky’s actions, actions of love. 

“I’ll send you my address,” Bucky gathers the flowers and chocolates as he rushes to your apartment, breaking a few traffic laws to get there faster. When he gets there, the image of you, opening the door, eyes swollen from crying breaks his heart. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sweeps you into his arm, as he closes the door behind, “tell me what’s going on hun.” 

You both sit on the couch, the bag with the flowers and chocolate lay at your feet, as you stay in Bucky’s embrace. 

“I’m… I’m dying Buck!” You manage to say in-between odds. “Dr. Fair... gave me three months to live. There’s nothing else they can do.” You break down in his arms, that last straw finally breaking, as you tell your newfound best friend, the person you were supposed to beat cancer with. Bucky tries his best to remain strong, to be the rock, the foundation you need, but you’re not the only one that is losing a friend. You sit in each other's embrace, as you mourn. You cry for all the missed opportunities, laughs, and memories that won’t be made. 

“What am I going to do,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. 

Kissing your head, Bucky pulls you in closer, “we, are going to make these three months, the best three months you’ve ever had.”

Bucky lives up to his promise, spending every hour he isn’t in the hospital with you. The time you spent together changed your relationship. Neither had to officially say the words to make your relationship official. It was just you, and Bucky. Holding each other close, as the tempest waged on, trying to beat you into submission. You go on walks in the park, picnics, and one night when you both had the energy, went skinny dipping. Your logic being, what are the cops going to do? Arrest two cancer patients, with one of them being terminal? You threw caution to the wind and simply lived. Lived, breathed, and loved. Things seemed to be perfect until reality hit.

Your body wasn’t keeping up. Your cancer was spreading faster than they predicted. The doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why the cancer was spreading so fast. It shouldn’t have been. Soon, home hospice came, to try to make you more comfortable. And like the good partner he was, Bucky spent every minute by your side. That’s why, when you felt the inevitable coming, you felt your body give in to the tiredness of fighting, you grab Bucky’s hand. 

“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you weakly say, giving him one last affirmation, as you went to sleep, for one last time. 

As Bucky wakes up from his nap, feeling your cold body, he tries to ruse you back awake. Once he realizes what has happened, the last bit of humanity inside of Bucky snapped. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, as tears stream down his face. He strikes your face, pleas escape his mouth. Pleas to you, to a God he has long stopped believing in. His body shakes, his tears wetting your hair, as he holds you for one last time. 

=====

“Oh James,” Dr. Breynord grabs herself a tissue before handing Bucky the box of tissues. “I truly am so sorry to hear that. I want you to know that I am here to help you get happy again, and to heal.”

Bucky sighs and turns away from the doctor as he wipes his eyes. “You’re just like the rest of them. You didn’t listen to me.” 

Breynord was surprised that this was Bucky’s complaint. The other doctors had warned her that Bucky could be sarcastic, standoff-ish, and even flat-out rude to them. Breynord thought she did a good job listening to his story, what did she miss.

“I… I don’t think I understand what you mean, James.”

Bucky lets out a heartless, empty laugh, “you want me to be happy again. I’m never going to be. Not only do I have to live with the guilt of surviving, when she died, in my arms, but I’ll also never find another soul like hers. We had a connection, you know. It felt like we met before. When I held her in my arm, and her arms would wrap around me, it felt like I had the whole world in my arms. I didn’t need anything else when I had Y/N.” 

“So tell me doc, what’s the point of carrying on?”

[splendidly-secret-sick-fics]

I’m Fine: An AtsuHina fic (Part 2)

Here it is!! Part 2 of my AtsuHina fic. 

I’m sorry it took so long. I had a really hard time figuring out exactly what I wanted to happen and how I wanted to characterize them. I think Hinata ended up being pretty ooc, but I’m like okay with it? I kinda hc that when he gets older, he calms down a lot and becomes like a very comforting person to be around. Like he’s still kinda goofy, but it’s more ~refined~ if you will. 

If you missed my most recent post, I’m going to start trying to shorten these fics a bit! I really enjoy writing these, but they’re also very very tiring lol. 

Anyway!! Without further ado... 

I’m Fine: An AtsuHina fic (part 2)

Part 1

Pairing: Sick Atsumu, caretaker Hinata

Word Count: 2,644 (!!!) 

Trigger Warnings: vomiting, swearing (?) 

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

“—umu. Babe, please wake up.”

A voice cut through Atsumu’s brain and groaned. His mouth tasted terrible and it was about 900 degrees wherever he was right now. All in all, he’s never felt worse.

“Tsumu, please. Come on.” A hand tapped his face and he swatted it away with a groan.

“Okay, that was something. Open your eyes now for me, baby.” His cheek was pinched. He scrunched his nose and squeezed his eyes open. The light burned his eyes, but when he looked up, he was met with the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The most fantastic gift he could have received during this incredibly trying time in his life.

“Shoyo?” he whimpered, his bottom lip quivering. Shoyo smiled at him and it was so beautiful and amazing and Atsumu felt so relieved because he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.” Shoyo rubbed his hand up and down Atsumu’s arm. Atsumu bit his lip and tried to sit up. Shoyo was right there, gently pulling Atsumu up and into his arms. Atsumu grabbed on with what little strength he had.

“Yer home?” he cried. Shoyo smelled like airport  and it didn’t help his nausea at all. It didn’t matter though because he was home. And he was holding Atsumu and maybe things would be okay now.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here. I’m sorry I’m late,” Shoyo reassured. Atsumu’s bottom lip quivered and his eyes water. A sob escaped before he could stop it. Shoyo’s arms around him tightened and that was all it took for the floodgates to open. Tears rolled down Atsumu’s flushed cheeks and he cried pathetically into Shoyo’s chest.

“Pl’se don’ leave me. ‘M s’ry,” He gripped Shoyo’s shirt tightly.

“I’m not. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Time passed slowly and Atsumu wasn’t sure how long he cried and clawed at Shoyo, begging him not to leave. Eventually though, he calmed down enough to realize that his stomach was still rolling.

“So you’re not feeling very good, huh, Tsumu?” Shoyo asked and planted a kiss on the top of Atsumu’s head. He shook his head.

“When did you get home?” he asked. Not that he even knew what time it was anyway.

Shoyo hummed, “not that long ago. I rushed home from the airport. Samu and Rin blew up my phone as soon as I landed.” Atsumu scrunched his face.

“Why would they do that?”

“Are you serious?” Shoyo snorted. “You texted them incoherently at two in the morning. They said something about how you were dying and never wanted to eat or see the light of day ever again. You scared them,” he paused, “scared me, too.” He added, quieter. Atsumu felt him rest his cheek on the top of his head.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. When did he text them all of that? There was absolutely no memory of those texts being sent anywhere in his brain.

“S’okay,” Shoyo said. They fell into a comfortable silence.

“Can you tell me how long you’ve been in the bathroom?”  Shoyo asked eventually.

Atsumu shook his head again, because no, honestly he couldn’t.

“Las’ thing I ‘member clearly is Samu and Suna bein’ here.” Shoyo exhaled slowly.

“That long, huh? Have you thrown up a lot?”

At that, Atsumu nodded his head vigorously, because yes, if there’s anything he knows about the past 24 hours, it’s that he’s spent a lot of them crying and puking.

“Have you eaten anything? Anything to drink? Any meds?”

A hesitant shake of the head.

“Okay. Well let’s start with that, yeah? Then we’ll try and get your fever down.” Shoyo patted Astumu’s back and made to get up.

No no no. Atsumu didn’t want anything in his body. Just the thought of it brought back the nausea to a level that made him squirm.

“Please no,” he whimpered. Shoyo was standing, stretching his arms above his head.

“I’m sorry, babe. Gotta get that fever down and get some liquids in you. You’re probably really dehydrated. You don’t want to go to the hospital right?” Shoyo peered down at him, an eyebrow raised.

Well, no. He didn’t want that.

“Don’ wanna throw up.” Atsumu pouted.

“I know,” Shoyo rubbed his head, “but don’t worry, I’ll be here.”

And thank god Shoyo was there.

Not even an hour later, Atsumu was hunched over a bowl on the couch, heaving and bawling.

Shoyo made him drink a sports drink and take some fever reducers. He was in the clear for a little while, so they decided to chance some soup. When it looked like he was okay, Shoyo decided to take a shower and wash the nasty airport stank off of himself.

By the time he got out, Atsumu was sobbing in a puddle of his own vomit. From there, the situation only spiraled into disaster.

Atsumu, now clean of his own puke, but quickly sweating through his new clothes, whimpered pitifully as he heaved.

“Tsumu, you have to calm down. You’re making it worse,” Shoyo soothed, rubbing up and down Atsumu’s back.

“I don’ wanna,” he coughed, “puke ‘a’ymore.” He punctuated his statement with a wet belch, as if the universe wanted to mock him.

The room was spinning and he wanted everything to stop. He felt so out of control of his own body. He was sticky and gross and it was so freaking hot.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, please calm down, Atsumu,” Shoyo tried. Atsumu heard the shake in his voice and he wanted to tell him it was okay and that he was fine and that he was sorry and get his shit together so he didn’t cause his jet-lagged boyfriend any more grief, but he simply could not do that.

Instead, he gagged and choked on a small stream of bile. Everything hurt. His toes, his head, his limbs, his throat, especially.

He breathed heavily over the bowl and hoped to god he was done. At least for now.

Shoyo patted his face with a damp and blissfully cold wash cloth. Atsumu glanced at Shoyo’s scrunched face and sighed.

“‘M s’ry ya had t’ come home t’ this, Sho.” Atsumu felt utterly pathetic. He wanted to welcome Shoyo home with a nice dinner and a relaxing night in, and instead here he was taking care of Atsumu.

Of course, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t grateful. There was no way in hell he would have lasted another night on his own.

“It’s alright, baby. I really don’t mind. I just wish you weren’t feeling so bad,” Shoyo frowned. Atsumu weakly reached up to hold his hand.

“Thank ya,” he slurred around the disgusting-ness he felt in his mouth. Shoyo’s mouth quirked up minutely.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, stroking Atsumu’s sweaty hair back with his free hand.

Atsumu nodded, “I w’nna change again. ‘M sticky.” Shoyo hummed in affirmation and stood up.

“I’ll be right back then. I’m gonna take the bowl and rinse it out. You’ll be okay for a few minutes?” He looked skeptical. Atsumu nodded. Leaving a quick peck on Atsumu’s sweaty forehead, Shoyo bounced out of the room. His stomach had been eerily calm for a few minutes now, so he took the chance to relax some and slumped back on the couch. He brought an arm up to rest over his eyes.

Why was this even happening? It was pure misery. If he could sleep it off, he would, but he was too afraid of getting sick while sleeping.

Sensing his anxiety, his stomach cramped. He groaned, placing a hand on his angry belly. His eyes stung. How many times has he cried in the past 24 hours? It didn’t really matter, he supposed, and let the tears roll down his face.

Quite abruptly, a regrettably familiar pressure in his chest returned and Atsumu sat up.

He was going to puke. And Shoyo wasn’t back. He couldn’t move. Should he call for him? No. No he didn’t want to open his mouth. It was fine. He was fine.

His throat constricted and he swallowed hard, bringing his knees under him on the couch. The blanket on his lap twisted around his legs, which only made him more uncomfortable. Using one hand to support his weight, he leaned over the couch. At least he could try and minimize the damage by puking on the hardwood instead of the upholstery if Shoyo didn’t make it back in time.

His head hung limply over the side of the couch. Spit collected in his mouth and he tried to swallow it down, but that only made him gag, so he dropped his jaw and let it dribble out of his mouth. His sense of shame disappeared hours ago.

His chest jolted with a hiccup that scratched his throat and he whimpered. Was Shoyo back yet? He would be fine until he came back, right?

A painful stomach cramp answered that for him. It told him no you won’t be. And with that, he gave up.

A few airy burps passed through his open lips and his stomach gurgled. Please no more please I don’t want it. But he had no more energy to fight it.

He coughed a few times and his throat gurgled.  With another cough, he wretched and a painful mixture of (mostly) bile and soup spilled from his mouth and onto the floor.  

Atsumu let out a broken sob before he pitched forward and vomited up more of the disgusting mixture.

“Atsumu!” Shoyo reentered the room at that moment and Atsumu lifted his head.

“Shoyo,” he choked before he dry heaved towards the ground again. Shoyo sat beside him and brushed back his hair. The bowl appeared in front of him again.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I tried to hurry.” Atsumu shook his head. He forced down another heave. He was empty. Physically and mentally.

“ I don’t..I don’t feel good at all,” he cried, his voice trembling right along with the rest of his body.

“I know,” Shoyo sighed, “I know. I’m sorry.” He wrapped an arm around Atsumu’s shoulders and rested a cheek on his sweaty back.

“Are you done, ya think? For now?”

Atsumu nodded and Shoyo guided him back to lean back on the couch. He readjusted the blanket, much to Atsumu’s appreciation and handed him a water bottle.

“Here. Rinse out your mouth.” Atsumu took it hesitantly and swished the water in his mouth before spitting it in the newly cleaned bowl.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet and raspy. Shoyo shook his head.

“Don’t worry, okay? Stop apologizing. You can’t help it.”  Shoyo pet his head and smiled at him sadly. “I’m going to clean this up and then I’ll help you change, okay?”

Atsumu nodded and closed his eyes. He felt himself drifting off and as much as he would love to sleep, he was still too scared. He really hated waking up all of last night to himself already puking and really didn’t want to relive it.  Every time he felt himself pulled into sleep, his anxiety woke him back up.

“Atsumu, here. Let me help you change,” Shoyo whispered sometime later. Atsumu opened his eyes to find the floor clean and Shoyo sitting in front of him again. In his lap was one of Atsumu’s favorite t-shirts, and a pair of athletic shorts. He nodded.

Together they got Atsumu into less sticky clothes and lying back down on the couch. The bowl was within arm’s reach, mocking him silently.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Shoyo asked. Atsumu nodded.

“Do you care what?” He shook his head. Shoyo exhaled and pulled his lips together tightly.

Shoyo put in some movie that Atsumu was sure he wouldn’t pay a lick of attention to, even if he wanted to. His stomach was still giving him fits and his head hurt and he was hot and then cold and dizzy and absolutely not fine at all.

“Ready to try some water?” Shoyo asked. He lifted up Atsumu’s feet and sat underneath them. Atsumu’s lip curled and he glared at the water bottle in Shoyo’s hand. He shook his head.

“Okay. Later then.” Shoyo put the bottle on the table. The movie played in the background, but otherwise it was silent. Atsumu tried to ignore how terrible he felt and focus on the movie, but it was increasingly difficult.

“You’re so quiet,” Shoyo sighed at one point, “s’weird,” he forced a chuckle. Atsumu’s eyes lazily slid to look at his boyfriend’s cute little profile.

“Mmm,” he responded. Shoyo’s jaw was tense and his shoulders were raised towards his ears. His lips were pursed and he was fiddling with a stray string on the blanket, twirling it between his fingers mindlessly. Atsumu wished he would relax.

Of course, he knew that wasn’t easy for Shoyo. Especially given Atsumu’s current condition. It made Atsumu feel even worse. His frustration with himself increased when his eyes started stinging again.

“Tsumu? Why are you crying?” Shoyo asked, his eyes wide and eyebrows pulled together. Atsumu furrowed his brows and pouted.

“I don’t feel good,” he whined petulantly. Shoyo’s face relaxed and he laughed.

“Well, obviously. But don’t cry. You’ll feel better soon.” He rubbed Atsumu’s shin.

“Well yeah, but ya had to come home to this and I’m sure yer tired and jet-lagged,” he muttered. Shoyo’s mouth pulled up in one corner and his eyes grew soft.

“Listen, any time with you is my favorite time, okay? Sure I’m tired, but it is what it is. Can’t do anything about you being sick other than help you get better right?”

“Well yeah, but—“

“Sit up,” Shoyo commanded. Atsumu gave him a bewildered look, but did as he was told, wiping away his sticky tears.

Shoyo stood up and Atsumu grunted in protest, but his boyfriend walked to stand by his head and shimmied his way behind Atsumu. He leaned against the armrest and opened his arms and gestured for Atsumu to lay back down.

“I don’t wanna get ya sick.” Atsumu turned his head away. Shoyo laughed. A full laugh and it made Atsumu’s heart stutter.

“Tsumu, it’s too late for that. If I’m going to get sick, I’m going to get sick. And you’ll take care of me, right?” He quirked an eyebrow at Atsumu.

“Obviously, but—“

“Then please lay down. Let’s take a nap.”

Atsumu hesitated.

“C’mon babe. I know you’ve been avoiding sleep, even though you're clearly exhausted. Your body will recover faster if you sleep.” Shoyo’s arms were still open and he wiggled his fingers, taunting Atsumu to cuddle into his favorite pillow.

“I don’t wanna throw up in my sleep again,” he trailed off before adding under his breath, “or on you for that matter.”

“Pft,” Shoyo scoffed, “as if I care about a little bit of puke. I’ve puked on myself so many times.” He said it as though it were an accomplishment and Atsumu raised his eyebrows and frowned. Shoyo cackled.

“Tsumu, please. I don’t mind okay? Look. The bowl is right within arms reach. And I’m here alright? You’re not alone anymore. If you throw up in your sleep, I’ll take care of you.”

Atsumu narrowed his eyes at the wing spiker before grumbling protests under his breath as he moved to lay down.

Shoyo’s arms wrapped around Atsumu, one resting on his lower back and the other coming up to play with the ends of his hair. He felt slightly better almost immediately. Yes, his stomach still seemed to hate him and his fever hadn’t broken and he generally felt like death warmed over, but Shoyo was there.

He sighed contentedly and Shoyo’s chest beneath his ear rumbled with laughter.

“Go to sleep, okay? I’ll be here. You’ll be okay.”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine,” he murmured before falling asleep.

[zmayadw]

Hello again :)

Heres a second part of my fanfic, as i said in previous post that i will add one or two. I know the begining might be a bit long and boring, but i decided my other two favorite Duskwood characters deserve some love ,too. :)

 Thanks to all who took their time to read it!

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 2

Next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital. The bright light from the window made me squint my eyes, and my head throbbed as hell. „Arghh, too bright.“ I mumbled, as a cheerfull voice next to me responded  „Well finaly, I was begining to worry you would never wake up! You know, you're taking those beautysleep advices too seriously.“ My eyes ajusted to the light, and I was looking at that cheerful, loving face, the face I knew oh so well. „Hmm, considering all, an extra hour or so of beautysleep is so allowed for me.“  I said, my voice hoarse a bit. She snorted „Make that 'an extra day or so'! You slept for almost three days!“ she said, walkig towards my bed and hugging me carefully. It felt good, just knowing she was there. She pulled away from me, her face serious.  “What wer you thinking?“ „ I'm sorry Jessy, so, so sorry.“  I said, tears swelling behind my eyes. „ I know what I did was stupid, but belive me, I really tought I was doing the right thing.“ „The 'right thing' almost got you killed Maya!“ she yelled at me, wich made me realize just how much she was worried about me. I burried my face in my hands, tears falling down „Please Jessy, dont be mad at me, I feel awfull as it is already. I realize my actions wer wrong, but I cant undo any of it now. And God knows im more then happy to be alive, and Hannah too! And I know my „sorry“ might not be enough this time, but I reall am sorry Jessy, you cant imagine how much. But please, please, you have to forgive me, I couldnt stand if I loose you!“ I couldnt force myself to look at her, I was so scared she would just get up and leave. And who could blame her, really, after all I did, she would have every right to do so. Suddenly, my hands wer slowely being moved from my face, and i opened my eyes  to see hers holding mine. I lifted my head, and our eyes met. Hers wer now also full of tears. She hugged me so fiercly, and even if everything still hurted me like hell, I was so reliefed and hugged her back tightly as I could. „Ofcourse I forgive you, Maya. I was so damn worried and scared that I will loose you!“ I was releifed to hear her say it, I hugged her even tighter, saying through my tears „I'm sorry Jessy.“ She held me like that for a while, and then pulled slowly back. „I'm glad you're ok Maya.“ She said, smile coming back to that pretty face. „Look at us! Bawling here like little kids.“ That made me chuckle, and i said whiping my tears  „Huh, I never tought our fist time meeting would be with me in the hospital. But, hey, im not picky, i'm just glad I finaly had a chance to hug you.“  „I dont think anyone imagined this to be the place of your first meeting us. You do realize others will want to come and see you? Dan already wanted to come with me, he was mumbling something about how he owes you a whiskey. But i gave him such a stern look, he just kissed me goodby and said to say 'hi' from him and ran away from me.“ The tought of Dan being scared of Jessy made me laugh so hard, i got a little dizzy from the pain. Jessy noticed me vincing, quickly saying „But that can wait, you need to rest more first. It's not like you're going anywhere anytime soon!“ She looked at me all serious, and i understood why Dan acted like he did. „Dont worry, Jessy, I wont try to break out of hospital.“ I said with a grin on my face. „A bit of r'n'r is definatly what I need now.“ „Good! And since i'm clearly your favorite person from our little clique, you wont get rid of me that easy while  in here.“ She said cheerfully. „Thanks, Jessy. I mean it, Im really glad you're here with me.“ „Me too, Maya, me too.“ She stayed with me that whole afternoon, and I was happy about it. We talked about everything we could think of: how we gonna take that walk arround Duskwood together, having coffee at the Rainbow caffee, going to Aurora for drinks. Jessy was so full of life, and managed to stay so positive through all of this mess. She told me that police gave her my stuff and my phone, and will bring me what i need. It wasnt so important, but i could really use my phone.  It was like Jessy could read my mind, and she looked at me with simpathy „Did Jake contacted you?“  There was a knot in my stomack when she asked, because I knew I wasnt out in the clear with what I did with everyone just jet. „I dont know, Jessy,  I guess i'll find out when I get my phone. But im sure Lily told him all about it by now, and to be honest, it's the one conversation i'm scared of having at the moment.“ „I'm sure it will be fine.“ „I really hope so, Jessy. I really care so much for him. I dont know for sure what he feels, and it doesnt really matter, I just cant stand the tought of him being mad at me. Or not talking to me anymore...I got so used of having him arround, even just virtualy..i dont know Jessy, i cant explain it... i just need him in my life. Does this make any sense to you?“  She looked at me, with care and a hint of worry showing on her face „Yes Maya, it makes perfect sense.“ We talked for a while more. She looked at the clok on the wall and jumped „Oh, yay I gotta go, forgot Im meeting Dan! He made me promise to meet later, since I didnt let him come with me here.“ „Heh, better go then, I dont want Dan blaming me AGAIN for getting stud up by you. Or he might not buy me that whiskey he promised, an to be honest I could really use it now.“ I sad smiling at her. „Ohh no, you two are gonna be a pain in the butt when you meet, arent you?“ she groaned, but a smile was written all over her face. „Dont worry, i'll behave..as much as possible. As for Dan, im sure if you join us and give him some of your 'scarry' looks, he'll behave too.“  She bursted out laughing. „Oh, cant wait for it! I'll go grab your phone  real quick, and then im off.“ She ran for the door, stoped, turned arround giving me one more of her beautiful smiles „I'm really glad you're ok Maya.“ I smiled back,“ Me too Jessy, me too.“ She came back with my phone, plugged it to charge next to my bed hugging me quickly before leaving.

It was almost dark outside, and the room was so quiet since Jessy left. There wasnt much comotion in the hospital, and I appriciated it actualy, some peace after all the mess was a nice change. I stared at the window for a while, just enjoyeing the sceene of the sun setting down, the sky taking that purpleish-blue color. I was actually delaying the moment of turning my phone on, because I was scared. A the same time I hoped Jake would contact me, but then I was also scared of talking to him. Its been three days since the incident, and im sure Jake found out everything by now, so maybe he vented some of the anger off in the mean time. Ah, c'mon Maya, dont be a sissy! – i tought to myself – You stared death in the face, and showed it the middle finger, and you're scared of that thing? I took a deep breath, took my phone from the stand, and turned it on. It felt like forever for it to turn when i punched my code, and when it finaly did, i left it aside. The beeping of new messages, missed calls, new emails and all was the only sound spreading through the room. And with every beep my stomach reacted a bit, thinking if any of those beeps belongs to Jakes. I got so lost in my toughts, that a voice snaped me back, startling me a bit. A nurse smiled „Sorry hun, i didnt want to fright you. Just came to chek up on you, ask if you need anyhting and to give you some pain meds.“ She winked at me „It's the good stuff, will help you sleep better.“ „Thank you, mam, im good.“ I smiled back at her, and quickly glanced at my phone - 44 missed calls, 24 messages, 17 emails. That will be some time killing stuff. The nurse was done, she waved at me wishing me good night, saying to feel free calling her if I needed anything. I thanked her again as she left the room. I took my phone, my hand shakeing. I checked 'missed calls' first, and tho i didnt expect it, was a bit dissapointed Jake wasnt among one of them. I opened the messages, and Jessy's message was on top. „Sending you hugs&kisses!“ it was written under the picture of her and Dan, grining with their glasses raised. It made me smile, and i texted her back „Hehe, Dan must be happy you actualy came this time! xD Have fun you two, cant wait to join you. Hugs&kisses“ I checked other messages, and my hearth squeezed a bit when i saw he didnt texted either. I didnt feel like replaying to any at the moment, settling the phone back on the stand. I switched off the light above the bed, turned on the side, staring at now complete darkness throught the window. One tear rolled down my cheek as i closed my eyes, hoping sleep will come soon.

[dearest-bucky]

Burning heart (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes seems to hate Y/n with a burning passion. Is everything as it seems though?

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: angstyyyyy but with a happy ending, Bucky is mean and I wanna punch him even though I love him (thank God for having everything saved in my laptop xp)

Originally posted: February 24, 2020

The compound is almost empty today, much to anyone’s surprise. With most of the team out on a long mission, the only people left to wander the living areas are Bucky and y/n. The only two people from the team who don’t get along. At all.

She knew that Bucky was somewhere training or simply sulking around the place, so she was trying to be extra careful with her moving, reducing the times she went to the kitchen to get food, going as far as isolating herself in her room for hours.

It wasn’t her fault that Bucky didn’t like her and they didn’t get along. She liked the ex-Winter Soldier, maybe a little too much, more than she should, considering how he treats her and such. But she can’t help feeling the way she does.

From the safety of her room she asked in a timid voice, “Friday, where is Sergeant Barnes?”

“He’s currently in the gym miss.” Came the immediate response.

Y/n sighed in relief and after offering a hushed thanks to the A.I she hurried to make her way to the kitchen. She was craving some chocolate chip cookies and she wanted to make her mother’s recipe for it, besides it would be a welcome home present for the other team members, they were supposed to come back from their mission in the afternoon.

Not wasting any time, she quickly got to work as soon as she set foot in the kitchen, trying her best to be as quiet as possible. It was ridiculous really, just like Bucky or everyone else, she lives in the compound, it’s her right to use each and every area of it, as long as she is not violating anyone’s privacy.

But Bucky, he was a total different thing. He couldn’t stay in the same room as her for more than 5 minutes even if their lives depended on it. He always criticized her, always had an insult to throw her way. It was as if he hated the woman, and y/n had no idea what had she done to deserve such treatment from him.

She was finished with the first batch of cookies and putting them to bake in the oven when she noticed Bucky enter the kitchen. He didn’t even spare her a glance, just headed to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and drinking with large sips. He looked tired, probably wore himself out with the punching bag, skin sweaty and hair dump, sticking on his forehead.

Y/n couldn’t help but stare at him. He was very handsome, with his brooding and almost dangerous features, but his eyes, they were always blue and soft and y/n couldn’t help but lose herself in them.

Bucky noticed her staring and scoffed in annoyance.

“What are you looking at?” He asked her, a little too bitterly for y/n’s taste.

She cleared her throat, embarrassed that he caught her staring, a red shade of blush dusting her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I was just lost in thoughts, didn’t mean to stare or make you feel uncomfortable.”

Her words were quiet, but she knew Bucky could hear her anyway.

“As if.” He replied almost taunting and left the kitchen, not saying another word. As if she could make him feel uncomfortable.

Bucky hated the idea of being alone with y/n. He hated the fact that she was so nice to him, always going out of her way to see to his every need, always offering her help with anything he was supposed to figure out by himself. He hated how she cooked for the whole team and always saved him a plate, never forgetting to call him down when the food was ready or when they were all hanging out, watching movies or playing silly games.

Y/n used to be a part of the Avengers, a very important asset to the team, with her powers and skills, she was amazing and fierce and a total badass. But everything changed two years ago, only a few months before Bucky came back from Wakanda.

Y/n had been captured by Hydra and tortured for three long months, she never said in detail what they did to her there, but whatever it was ruined her for good. She suffered a lot even after Steve and Natasha found her and brought her back home. She was mentally incapable of going on another mission or anything like that, that’s why Tony and Steve decided she would not participate in another mission for as long as it was needed for her to fully recover.

Bucky was sitting on the couch of the common room, reading a book, when he heard Friday’s mechanical yet very vivid voice inform him about the arrival of the team from their mission. He closed the book and got up from the place, ready to meet Steve and the others.

They came one after the other through the door with animated chatter, looking surprisingly well considering they had been on this mission for more than two weeks.

Steve was the first one to go to Bucky and hug him, then the rest of the team greeted him too. After the questions about the mission and if they were all fine, Steve was the first to ask about y/n’s whereabouts.

“Have you seen y/n today?” He asked Bucky, but the latter didn’t have time to answer because at that moment the woman entered the common room with two large plates full of chocolate chip cookies.

“Hey guys” she greeted them all with a wide smile and Sam was the first one to go to her, take the plates from her hands and pecked her cheek lightly.

Steve went up to her next, enveloping her in a warm hug which she happily returned. “How are you?” He asked in a hushed voice, only for her to hear.

“I’m okay. How are you? The mission went okay?”

He nodded and kissed her head.

Bucky was watching them from his seat, almost fuming at how lovingly his best friend and y/n were acting.

Everyone knew that after rescuing her from Hydra’s hands, Steve became her rock, the person she would go to every time she needed someone to talk to, or someone to hold her. His caring, nurturing nature had easily made her trust in him, open up to him with her mind and her heart, helping her become better and helping her heal.

Everyone also knew that there was nothing more than platonic brotherly love between them both, but Bucky couldn’t help the bitter taste of jealousy he’d get in his mouth and stomach every time he saw her with Steve.

He kept telling himself that he was jealous that she was keeping his best friend from him, what with Steve spending most of his free time with her, but he knew that wasn’t really true. He just couldn’t admit it to anyone, even himself that yet.

They all sat together around the couches and chairs, talking and eating y/n’s delicious cookies, when y/n directed her gaze to Bucky and silently nudged one of the plates in his direction, asking him to have one.

He just looked at her for a brief moment, as if not believing her gesture, and then got up from his seat.

“I don’t want your stupid cookies.” Was all he said before he left the room entirely, leaving everyone on the team surprised by his words, and y/n hurt in her very core.

She didn’t know what she had done to him, but she knew that she didn’t deserve his attitude. She tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat and averted her eyes to her lap. Steve that was sitting next to her, with his arm around her shoulders, furrowed his brows in disappointment at his best friend.

“Don’t mind him. You know how Bucky is.” He said trying to justify the man’s actions, but he knew the first thing he had to do later was go to Bucky and give him a piece of his mind. Y/n just shrugged and gave him a small smile to let her know she wasn’t hurt, but Steve knew that wasn’t true.

He knew how much Bucky would hurt y/n with his attitude towards her, he had witnessed Bucky being mean for no reason to y/n several times, but he couldn’t understand why his pal had to do so.

The atmosphere in the room shifted awkwardly after Bucky’s disappearance, but only for a few moments, because Sam was quick to crack a joke and try to restore the humor.

***

Missions are always hard, with the exception of a few here and there where they get lucky to get in, get the job done and get out without any scratches on them. This time though, luck was not on their side.

Steve, Bucky, Sam and Natasha had all been in a mission in Germany, raiding a Hydra base, while the rest of the team were doing the same in Russia, shutting down the same experiment operation that Hydra was conducting.

When they returned, they were all miserable, beaten down and tired, faces and bodies covered in blood and  scars.

Y/n had been feeling guilty for not being able to help the team anymore every since her capture, so not being one to just stand around and do nothing while her family and friends risked her life to save the world, she started to work in the medical bay, tending to their wounds every time they needed the care.

This time was no different, she was prepared for their arrival hours ago, Natasha notifying her of the situation of each member.

As soon as the jet landed in the hangar, she ran towards her friends and helped them to the med bay. They all looked like they had been through hell. And she knew it was true. Hydra was hell and she had lived in that hell herself for three months a couple of years ago.

She began with Natasha, cleaning and suturing a deep gash on her hairline, assessing to her other wounds, a knife slashing in her upper arm, a couple of bruises in her ribs. After finishing with her she went to Steve, who had a busted lip and a few broken ribs, but ever the stubborn person he was, he insisted he was okay.

“You should see Bucky. He has a bullet wound in his abdomen and I think his shoulder is dislocated.” He informed her in a hushed but quick voice.

Her eyes widened and she asked another nurse to tend to him before she went to see Bucky.

Bucky was sitting at the end of the med bay, head hanging low and the breaths he was taking were short and shallow. Because of his past trauma and everything, he didn’t let anyone take care of him except from doctor Cho, who he had learned to trust with time, but unfortunately the woman wasn’t in the States at all that day.

Now Bucky was losing blood, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, not letting anyone take care of him.

Y/n approached him with careful steps, not wanting to startle him. “Hey, Bucky.” she spoke in a soft tone that was usually directed to him.

He picked up his head to look at her but said nothing. He was paler than she had ever seen him, surely he must have lost a lot of blood.

“Will you let me look at your wounds?  Steve said you’re shot-”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because he abruptly got up from his chair, making the way out of the med bay.

“I don’t need your help.”

His voice was hoarse and a little weak, but she could sense the animosity in his tone. Her heart broke a little from him words, but she couldn’t say anything to him. She wished things were different between them.

He took three more steps in the direction of the door and before he could leave the room, his knees gave out and he collapsed on the floor with a loud thud.

Three heads turned to the source of the noise and y/n gasped in horror when she saw Bucky fall down, but she immediately reacted and went to his side, helping him on his back and assessing to his wound.

Steve and Sam helped her get Bucky in one of the surgery tables where she had to get the bullet out and see his wound before he died of blood hemorrhage.

*

Bucky woke up feeling his head pounding. He opened his eyes with a little difficulty and first thing he saw was all white. White walls, white room, white sheets, and a person in a white coat sleeping in a chair next to his bed, her head tucked next to his thigh, two petite hands holding his metal hand in a firm grip.

When he saw who was next to him, Bucky’s heart started hammering in his chest, but he couldn’t let her be there. Despite feeling bad for having to wake her up, because she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days, he had to, before he did some stupid thing he would regret later.

He retracted his hand rather harshly from her hold and y/n startled awake, looking frantically around the room for any source of danger.

When her eyes met his she let out a sigh of relief and a small smile formed in her lips.

“You’re awake.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a gruffly voice, hoarse from disuse. Despite having saved his life, he still couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her.

“I’m sorry, I was just sitting in the chair and then fell asleep…” she was trying to find excuses for her presence there, but Bucky was having none of it.

He gave her what she understood to be a repulsed look and asked for Steve. The smile never leaving her lips, she nodded her head and quit the room quickly.

Despite everything he did to her, she couldn’t hate him, she couldn’t resent him. She felt too deeply for Bucky and it was killing her, but she couldn’t stop being nice to him. He deserved all the kindness in the world, no matter what.

She made a quick walk to Steve’s room and informed him about Bucky being awake. While talking to him she kept her easy smile and normal composure, but as soon as she retreated to her room, the pain came all at once, crushing her, causing her to fall down to her knees and cry her eyes out.

She sobbed and sobbed and felt the pain pierce through her chest, but she couldn’t help but still care for Bucky. All she needed to do was let out all the hurt and pain in the confines of her room and then get out, put a fake smile on her face and carry on taking care of Bucky and the rest of the team as if nothing had happened.

She had been practicing this kind of ritual for a long time, lately more often than not and she was used to it. She knew she was hurting but she couldn’t stop caring. It was her blessing and her curse.

***

The next time they were left alone together was a few months later during a week long visit in Wakanda. T'Challa had welcomed them in their palace, offering each and one of them personal chambers. It just happened that Bucky’s and y/n’s bedrooms were next to each other.

It was almost 3 am and with all the people living in the palace sleeping a peaceful quiet had embraced the atmosphere. Bucky couldn’t sleep, so he was writing in his journal his latest thoughts. Despite having gained all of his memories back and having them sorted in order, he kept writing in a journal, it helped him with his feelings, especially with the ones for y/n.

Speaking of her, he was just writing about the last time he had seen her in the compound, tired and consumed, eyes with dark circles under them and shoulders slumped, almost as she had given up in herself.

He had never seen her like that, even when he had just returned from Wakanda to become part of the Avengers, just a little after she was rescued from Hydra. Her smile, her pretty smile she always wore no matter what, was missing and Bucky couldn’t help but feel responsible and guilty for the state she was in.

He had been horrible towards her, but she never complained and despite his rudeness she kept being kind to him, treating him with extra care and tenderness, but he kept being mean to her. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world.

He was just closing his notebook to go to bed when he heard her blood curdling screams echoing through the walls. He was immediately on panic, running to her door to save her from any threat she might be facing.

Even though the king’s palace was one of the safest places on Earth, Bucky couldn’t help but fear that she was in real danger, if her screams were any indication.

He ran to her room and opened the door in a hurry, but instead of finding any threat there, he was met with her figure thrashing on the bed, kicking and yelling to the top of her lungs for help.

She was having a nightmare.

He was frozen in place, just looking at her living in a terror, before he reacted and without a second thought went to her bed to wake her up.

As he got closer he noticed there were tears in her eyes, and his heart broke for the innocent girl suffering. Bucky was very familiar to the nightmares and he knew that she must have them too, after the pain and torture she went through, but he had never heard her, their rooms in the compound being in different floors.

Without losing any more seconds he closed the distance with her and wrapped his arms around her, one hand getting the hair out of her face, patting them securely behind her ears. She was still screaming in his arms.

“Y/n wake up sweetheart.” He began talking in a sweet soothing voice. “Come on, wake up, it’s okay, it’s just a dream.” He continued speaking to her and caressing her cheeks with his fingertips.

She woke up startled, her eyes opening in shock and pushing at him to let her go.

“No, let me go!” She yelled but she only tightened his hold around her shoulders and kept on whispering to her ears.

“It’s me y/n, it’s Bucky. You’re safe now. It’s okay.”

Soon enough she calmed down and let her weight down in his arms, shoulders slumping forward and arms clinging to him for dear life.

“Bucky..” she muttered in a breathless voice and began to cry with loud sobs.

His heart was breaking seeing her like this, so he kept rocking her back and forth in his arms, trying to soothe her.

“It’s okay. It’s over now. You’re here, you’re safe.” He kept talking to her while his hands were rubbing up and down her back, helping with her calming down.

Eventually her breathing evened and she was quiet in his arms, but her hands hadn’t loosen their grip on his shirt at all. He kept hugging her and rocking her and whispering sweet nothings in her ears and he wasn’t planning on moving if it wasn’t for y/n who a few minutes after having calmed down went stiff in his arms and retreated her body from his.

“I’m sorry you had to come and wake me up.”

Her voice was small and hoarse from all the screaming, but Bucky heard it loud and clearly.

“I’m sorry you have nightmares.” He replied to her. She looked up to his eyes in surprise, not having expected him to say that.

Of course even having him there was a surprise in itself, but she guessed he just had to come and wake her up because her screaming was disturbing his sleep.

She shook her head.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But it is. I made your days a real nightmare too. I’m sorry y/n.”

He wiped the tears out of her cheeks and then took one of her hands in his and started playing mindlessly with her fingers.

“Buck..”

“Yeah?” His eyes met her in a hopeful glance, he didn’t know what she was about to say next, but he wanted to be there for her now, he didn’t want to leave her side.

“Why do you hate me?” Her seemingly nonchalant question made him shudder. He didn’t hate her. Of course he didn’t. But the way he acted towards her said otherwise.

He locked eyes with her for a moment and slowly started closing the distance between them.

“I don’t.” He answered simply and his lips met hers in a short and hesitant kiss.

At first she didn’t react to his lips on hers, but then she returned his kiss, just as timid as him, for a quick second and then she was the first to end it.

“I’m sorry. I should better go.” He said in a hurried voice, clearly embarrassed. He got up from the bed and made to leave the room, but her next words stopped him right in his tracks.

“Please don’t.”

It was barely a whisper and  if he didn’t have super soldier hearing he would probably miss it. But he heard her, and his head whipped around to see her already looking at him expectantly.

He turned back and sat on her bed again, and she nearly crawled to get close to him and curled to his chest, trying to protect herself from the outside world in his embrace.

Bucky circled his arms around her shoulders and moved them to a laying position, to be more comfortable.

“I’m sorry for everything, doll. I know I hurt you and I have no excuse for being such a jerk to you. I don’t deserve your tenderness and kindness, but you always go out of your way to make me feel better and for that I’m eternally grateful. I’m so sorry for causing you pain and hurting you when you didn’t deserve it at all.”

She just hugged him tighter and sighed in relief.

“It’s okay Buck. Everything is okay.”

That night they fell asleep in each other’s arms and it was the very first night of the best sleeps of their lives. In the morning they would talk it all out.

[pelham-bits]

A little (very long) Tory update for @gramizar and anyone else who might follow along with everything...

I can’t really remember what I’ve updated on here so basically late November we hit a WALL as far as riding went. She didn’t want to go forward at all, wouldn’t go to the right, and generally seemed completely depressed and out of it. She was quite grumpy and sensitive to the touch as well. Later on she also became super spooky and generally just unpleasant to ride, which I think was a symptom of the environment (alone with very little stimulation) more than anything. We basically determined at that point she most likely had ulcers again and it was time for a move. She had been kept alone since April despite the barn owners continuously telling us they would turn her out with different horses, which I’m sure was contributing to her stress, and she was running out of hay within hours of being fed and was finishing her entire hay bag well before we would get out again, meaning she was going long periods without feed. We brought up some of these concerns with the barn owner and were told that “she couldn’t have ulcers because she’s fat” and “she can go out with another horse but she won’t get her grain because we won’t be bothered to supervise her.” Also “she can see other horses so she’s fine.” As well, because the barn owner all of a sudden decided she was fat, they cut down her hay even further without our permission. This is a horse who was being fed $240/month of weight gain feed and supplements, I would have happily cut down on any of those first.

So basically we decided to look for another barn and didn’t want to start ulcer treatment until we had that sorted out, which basically meant she just got the rest of December/first two weeks of January off. We did a lot of slow in hand work to hopefully build some core stability. The saddle fitter came out mid-December and found that her jump saddle was too narrow so we switched back to the dressage saddle with a shimmed pad, which hopefully will help her out as we bring her back into work.

Vet came out end of December and she was showing a consistent lameness on the right hind that was worse than it had been in the past, so we injected the diagonal pair that has consistently been an issue; the right hind fetlock and the left front knee. Even though she wasn’t really lame on the left front (that was mostly resolved with coffin injections and shoes) she was still a bit stiff, and the joint fluid was extremely liquidy so it was likely a good decision. Did they make a difference? Jury is still out. I’ll get her back into work over the next few weeks and then have the vet take a look sometime in Feb (let’s have one month vet bill free 🤞🏼). I still suspect she needs her stifles done but we’ll see if the vet sees improvement from just the fetlock. Vet also agreed with the ulcer diagnosis, so we decided to start treatment 2 weeks before we left. That way she gets two weeks of full tubes of Gastrogard after the move to cover the trailering and initial stress of the moving, and then she’ll get three weeks of half tubes and four weeks of quarter tubes to cover the rest of the settling in period and make sure the ulcers are gone.

She has been ridden twice since being at the new place and is definitely doing a lot better. She’s a bit stiff but I think it’s the result of being out of work for awhile, plus a fairly tough trailer ride, and sorting out the herd dynamics with her new pals (she had a pretty good bite on her side today, although it didn’t seem to be too sensitive). I’ll get chiro and massage out for her soon. The ulcer meds are kicking in, she has 24/7 hay, and loves being out with the horses so I definitely think her attitude is better as well. Definitely less spooky at least. Right now it’s just a matter of constantly trying to retrain her posture and way of going to help support her joints, but also get her joints sorted out enough to help her do that. Obviously if she’s in pain she’s not going to work productively, but she also creates pain by defaulting to such poor posture. We do daily carrot stretches and proprioception exercises to try to engage her core and help her out. If we continue having issues with soundness I am considering trying her on Previcox, as we seem to be having a hell of a time trying to narrow down her problem areas and I can only afford so many injections. I think last ones would be stifles and then hocks, and that’s pretty much all the options in that department. If anyone wants to donate a bone scan let me know!

Anyways hopefully things continue to improve with the better environment at the new barn, but you never really know with Tory 🙄

[trellanyx]

your jonathan crane (who i love so very much) and numbers 1 through... oh, lets say 25 ;)

(Send me a character and a number)

Have I told you how much I love you lately, Lizard? Because I do. Oh yes I do. 😂

Word vomiting about my Jon in 3, 2, 1...

1) Something this character is truly proud of.

His work, of course. Not just the toxin, but the breadth of his knowledge, his experiments, his successes and vengeances. Jonathan is an expert in his field, and considering what he went through to get there he’s damn proud of it.

2) Who they want to please the most.

Jonathan Crane does not give a single solitary fuck about what anyone thinks of him. The only satisfaction he cares about is his own. Considering how high his standards are, that’s a big enough challenge already.

3) Who depends on them.

No one. Jon may make you think you need him if that serves his end goal, but other than that he keeps his distance. If you’re in a position where you actually depend on Jonathan Crane’s services, you’re fucked.

4) What they would do if they had one month to live.

Work feverishly to A) preserve his work and B) push it as far as it can go before his body betrays him. Jon would be pulling such long, intense hours that it’s quite possible he’d drop dead before the month was up from sheer exhaustion. If he doesn’t, then he takes his magnum opus and goes out with a hell of a bang.

5) A cherished personal belonging.

Nothing. He has things he likes more than most: a tortoiseshell watch, a spring-loaded gun, his sturdiest boots, his sharpest scythe - the whole fear gauntlet, actually, impractical as it was - but nothing he’d go as far as to say he cherishes. Everything Jon owns is expendable, and no matter how attached he might be to something, there’s nothing he wouldn’t chuck in a fire instantly if he needed to. 

6) Something they lost, but would love to have back.

“Unlimited access to test subjects wrapped in a stable paycheck. Arkham’s much more fun on the other side of the straitjacket.”

7) This character’s favorite character

I give up. It’s been days. Days that this post has sat in my drafts while I tried to think of this asshole’s favorite character, and I’ve got nothing. I’ve come up with a couple of disparate headcanons involving Jon and fiction in general, but I have no answer for this one. I offer this as a placeholder: “He doesn’t have any because he’s a contrary and insufferable bastard.”

8) What kind of car they would drive.

Dark, boring, older than sin. The gas pedal is the most abused piece of equipment in South Gotham. There’s a stain on the backseat floor that Jon says is coffee, and no one is brave enough to question him. Edward refuses to be seen dead in it. One day Jon’s gonna take that as a challenge.

9) What calms them when they are upset.

It really depends on the type of distress that it is. The basic scale is this:

Drumming his nails against things, or just tapping against the nearest flat surface if his nails aren’t long enough. (Common response to most grievances.)

Stepping outside for a smoke. He goes back inside when he either feels better or runs out of cigarettes.

Pacing inside or stalking through the streets like he’s on his way to kill somebody, taking small, petty pleasure watching people jump out of his way.

Stewing in a corner with a bottle of strong alcohol.

Actually killing somebody.

10) How they deal with pain.

Grits his teeth and bears it. The first lesson he ever learned.

11) This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing.

As Scarecrow: His plague doctor mask, which replaced the traditional burlap after he stopped being able to feel fear.

As Jon: Custom winter gloves with longer fingers to accommodate his nails in the winter.

12) How they sleep.

I’ve talked about this before, actually! Here’s the quote:

Since he suffers from chronic insomnia and chronic I Have No Idea What Healthy Habits Look Like, Jonathan doesn’t go to bed very often. He’s more likely to pass out wherever he is - couch, desk, once on a morgue slab (don’t ask)… But when he does sleep in a bed, he tosses and turns a ridiculous amount. It’s not that he’s having nightmares (though with the way he moves, how could you tell), he just has a hard time getting comfortable. He’ll turn over at least 3-6 times before falling asleep, and he’ll keep shifting even after he does. It’s very common for Jonathan to fall asleep with three blankets and wake up with only one.

13) What kind of parent they would be.

*hysterical laughter* NO.

14) How they did in school.

He struggled with it a lot. Not because of a lack of intelligence or drive, but because:

Constant undernourishment and late night punishments made it difficult for Jon to stay awake in class. (His insomnia didn’t develop until he was in his early 20s.)

His homework was often late or mediocre because Jon did it after being beaten or kept busy with his grandmother’s laborious demands, if he was in a state to do it at all.

Jon’s glasses were almost never up to date. Constant squinting compounded by what Jon now knows were chronic migraines made class not only difficult to concentrate on, but physically painful.

Bullying. I don’t think I need to elaborate there.

Jon barely eked out a GPA high enough to get him into a local community college with the help of a scholarship targeted toward low-income families. Once his grandmother and bullies “helpfully” left the picture and Jon could focus on eliminating the obstacles above, he threw himself into his studies like a man possessed, and by the time he graduated, he’d secured himself entry to a post-baccalaureate program in Gotham. He used that as a stepping stone to med school and the rest is history.

15) What cologne or perfume they would use.

Jon doesn’t like either. His only indulgence in the smell department is almond-scented soap.

16) Their sexuality.

It varies depending on what version of him I’m playing, but it’s always either bi or gay.

17) What they’d sing at karaoke.

Something slow, creepy and mournful, probably not even on the set list, while he stares at you unblinking and makes you regret every decision in your life that helped force him onstage. You don’t ask for an encore.

18) Special talents they have.

Jon is double-jointed, a great whistler, sews all his costumes and is an adequate mechanic. See the “should be dead twelve times over” car he still drives. He’s also a better swimmer than people give him credit for, something that’s saved his life more than once.

19) When they feel safest.

In front of a fireplace. Jon can’t really explain it, nor does it make sense considering how much he hates heat in general. But there’s something about sitting in front of a fire that really relaxes him. (Don’t bother with the scarecrow/fire jokes, he’s heard them all.)

20) Household chore they hate the most.

Bathrooms.

21) Their fondest childhood memory.

“Killing them.”

22) How they spend their money.

Books, chemicals, caffeine, alcohol, weapons. And then living essentials. Maybe. Depends on how low he is on nicotine. (Jon’s spending habits are so predictable it became a running joke on campus, what did you expect.)

23) What kind of alcohol they drink.

He’s not picky, but nothing beats a finely aged whiskey. He’s also partial to Black Russians.

24) What they wish they could change about themselves.

Useful as it can be, Jon regrets the loss of his ability to feel fear. He also wishes he didn’t get migraines so often. Nothing on the personality front, though: Jon knows what he is.

25) What other people wish they could change about them.

Oh honey, there’s not enough hours in the day to list all that.

[voltron-for-ever]

🎃 Whumptober 2021 🎃

first | previous | next

No. 8 - COUGHING UP A LUNG

pneumothorax | exotic illness | “Definitely just a cold”

@whumptober2021

@whumptober-archive

⚠️ Read the tags for warnings ⚠️ ——————————————————

Shiro had been watching Keith all morning and he wasn't looking good. He was about to intervene with Keith's training when Keith started to lose his balance, before Shiro registered what was happening Keith was passed out on the floor of the training deck. The others paladins and Coran rushed to his side.

Coran- Let's get him to the med bay so I can take a look at him.

Shiro- Ok I'll carry him there, the rest of you keep training with the princess.

All- Ok

Shiro paced outside the door to the med bay whilst Coran was checking Keith over. He was sure it was nothing but his anxiety got the better of him. It turns out his worrying wasn't for nothing.

Coran- Shiro we have a problem.

Shiro- What is it ? Is something wrong with Keith ?

Coran- Yes, it appears that he has some form of galra illness.

Shiro- Can you treat him for it ?

Coran- I'm afraid not, I'm not familiar with galra illnesses. I'm not even exactly sure which galra illness it is.

Over the next few days Keith got progressively worse. From coughing up blood to vomiting. He had a temperature of 105 which was definitely not a good sign. His whole body ached and still no one could figure out what Galran illness he had. This went on for weeks and Keith is only getting weaker. He can't stand up on his own, he only eats space goo and even that he struggles to keep down, all he can do now is lay in bed all day every day. Shiro sits with him as much as he can. He likes to run his fingers through the younger boys hair and whisper things like "it's ganna be ok buddy." "I promise where doing everything we can, just hold out a little longer for me buddy." Keith is trying his hardest to stat strong but he can feel himself growing weaker everyday.

Finally after about a month of Keith being extremely sick the paladins met the blade of marmora. Coran was quick to ask about Keith, not wanting to waste anymore time than they already had.

Coran- Kolivan, I was hoping to speak to you about Galran illnesses. One of our paladins has one and we are hoping you have a cure.

Kolivan- I'm no doctor, but I am familiar with most Galran illnesses. What are their symptoms ?

Coran- He had a fever of 105, he's benign getting weaker over time, he's had it for about 1 month. He coughs up blood , he also throws up anything he eats. He passes out anytime he stands on his own.

Kolivan- Dose he have a rash on his stomach ?

Coran- Yes he does, do you know what he has ?

Kolivan- Where is he ?

Coran- In his room resting, why ?

Kolivan *through comms in his suit* - GET ME ONE OF THE MEDICS, have them in full quarantine gear, have them on this ship in the next 10 minutes !

Shiro- What the hell is wrong with him ?

Kolivan- It's a rare Galran illnesses, it's called Eca.

Shiro- Is it bad ?

Kolivan- If we don't treat & cure him in the next 24 hours he will die. Eca is an rare illness among Galra, it causes the body to slowly and painfully shut down until it's completely shut down and the infected Galra dies. Left untreated it's deadly.

Shiro- But you can save him right ?

Kolivan- I believe so, I just hope we can do it in time.

Meanwhile in Keith's room : He doesn't want to admit it but he's gotten worse in the last few hours since Coran last checked in on him. This has been hard enough on Shiro as it is so Keith's been hiding the fact that he's in a whole lot of pain, a pain so bad it feels like his whole body is on fire. Before it was only occasionally painful now though the pain feels like it never ends.

By the time the Galran medic had finished administering the cure Keith was deathly pale, his temperature was up to 106 and he's too weak to even move. He is still coughing up blood and vomiting which concerns Coran but Kolivan assured him that Keith will be perfectly fine.

Kolivan- Paladins, Keith should make a full recovery by the end of the week. He will need plenty of rest, water and liquid like foods.

Shiro- Thank you Kolivan.

The next week Keith was weaker than he'd ever been, Shiro had to feed him. He still vomited a lot but Shiro was still hopeful that Keith was making a full recovery and with time he did. But even now two weeks after being given the cure for Eca Keith is still weak and allura has insisted that he take more time to rest. Even though he hated resting and taking breaks, his body begged him for more rest more time to heal and for once he listened ...

[ Word count - 830]

[prince-liest]

Heyyy, I kind of want to ask you something but I don't know if it's the kind of question you accept? Um, guess I'll throw it in and assume it's been deleted after a couple days which 👌 aight. Any advice on how to get into Med school when you're in dropout prevention HS with easy courses since I can't choose, zero volunteer hours, and two Fs in College which will probably put me on Academic Probation when I start, fff and I'm expected to transfer to a prestigious Uni like how tf even.

I am happy to answer that kind of question! Hopefully my answers are helpful to you. I will say, all my advice is based on the assumption that you're in the US and applying to a US medical school, because I don't know how those things work in other countries.

Long answer ahead:

I'm a little bit confused about how you are currently attending a high school but have two failed courses in college, so I hope I'm alright in assuming that you are a high school student that took a couple of college courses, and is not yet a full-time undergraduate student.

As far as medical school applications are concerned, high school is very, very early. On average, people entering medical school have taken two gap years between then and undergrad and are entering medical school at age 24. The important things are what you do when you are already in undergraduate, not what grades you got 4-8 years ago in high school.

That said, you do need to do well in college! All those things you're struggling with in high school - volunteering, passing classes - those are things you want to knock out of the park when you're in undergrad. Having a couple of bad grades, especially at the very start, is fine - you just need to show them improvement, and you can always spin it into an adversity essay. Applying to medical school is a performative circus show where you need to have good grades and relevant volunteer hours and physician shadowing hours (including DO if you're applying DO) and solid letters of recommendation (including DO again, some schools straight up require this) and ideally also research (though I personally did not have any - but I also didn't get accepted MD, so!)

Now, you don't need to dive straight into the deep end and desperately scramble to do everything at once, but you do need to think: is that something you can handle? Can you pull As and Bs while volunteering a little bit every week, can you start looking into shadowing opportunities, can you do something that schools consider having that ever-touted "leadership" (like running for an officer position in a school club or leading a study group)?

Some tips:

Volunteering doesn't need to be intense. Doing an hour a week for a couple of years shows commitment and adcoms like that. Do a medical mission over the summer if you have the money and opportunity.

Be friendly with your professors and take advantage of summer research opportunities in undergrad.

Honest to god I think applying to med school straight out of undergrad is a mistake. They want more mature students, and taking at least one gap year lets you focus on studying for the MCAT as well as gives you time to volunteer/shadow/get a job for a bit.

Shadowing is more important than you think because it will tell you a lot about whether or not being a doctor is something you actually want to do, as well as what type of specialty most interests you.

Additionally (and please forgive me if this sounds condescending as hell, but I also implore you to take it seriously): Reflect for yourself on why you want to go into medicine and what contributed to the circumstances you are currently in. Why did you get those two Fs? Is that reason something that you think will continue to make it incredibly difficult for you to pass classes in the future? Do you enjoy STEM classes? Medical school involves learning a lot of information in a very short period of time, and is often compared to trying to drink water out of a fire hose. Is that something you think you could do? And if so, would you enjoy the material enough to justify it and avoid burning out? A lot of my classmates have depression/anxiety/OCD and are managing just fine, for the record, you just need to make sure you have yourself handled for a difficult endeavor.

It's much better to answer these things for yourself now to make sure you're on the right path, before you've spent time, money, and emotional energy on what is frankly a very difficult and exclusive process! I say, as someone who considers the process of medical school applications incredibly emotionally draining.

TL;DR: High school doesn't really matter, college matters a lot, make sure you actually want to and are able to do this.

I love medical school! I can't imagine doing it if I didn't actively enjoy the majority of what I'm learning, haa.

Alright, back to memorizing diabetes drugs for me. ^_^" I hope this helped, and if you have any questions that are more specific (I know a lot of this advice has been quite general), feel free to hit me up!

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

One Step Forward Two Steps Back

Call It What You Want (7/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Med student!Poe x reader

A/N: Poe needs to calm down in this one smh that gif is so fitting

Chapter Summary: Poe tries to talk to you, but you make his life infinitely more difficult since you���re still under the impression that he was still with his girlfriend

Warnings: swearing, dash of angst, everyone being dumb asses

Word count: 2.4k

You don’t remember the walk back to your place, your mind too occupied with the thoughts of what had just happened with Poe fucking Dameron. You kissed him. More like, he kissed you first but you still went with it, way too eagerly, head empty of any rational thoughts. He has a girlfriend. How could you forget that, if even for a moment? How could he forget that? 

You used to be sure Poe wasn’t the type of person who would cheat on someone, but now, not so much. And the worst part? You enjoyed kissing him, so goddamn much. You should’ve pushed him away, should’ve stopped him before he kissed you. How could you be so reckless? 

Before you know it, you’re walking up to your front door, too busy mentally kicking yourself, to notice the cardboard boxes lying around the floor. Your foot catches on one and you almost go tumbling down, but an arm shoots out to steady you before you could fall. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” A woman around your own age exclaims, her hand still firmly clamped on your arm as you wobble in surprise. She chuckles awkwardly, an easy smile settling on her face as she sticks a hand out to you. “I’m Rose Tico. I just moved in next door,” She tells you. Oh, your new neighbor. She seems nice, you think. You shake her hand, introducing yourself.

“You need any help moving in?” You offer, though you don’t really feel like putting yourself in a social situation. Thankfully, Rose declines. After a quick exchange of numbers, you rush into your home, hoping Jessika was already at home. You find her sitting cross-legged on the counter, happily munching on a muffin from your stress baking batch. 

“Poe kissed me,” The words are out of your mouth before you could even think about how you were going to reveal the news, and the bite of muffin Jessika takes almost goes flying out of her mouth.

“WHAT?” She screeches, scampering down from the counter, crossing the room in record time before shaking you by the shoulders. “Woman! What? Is my ship finally sailing?”

“What? No!” You break away from her grip, grimacing. “He has a girlfriend, Jessika!” She makes a gagging sound at your protestations.

“But she is a bitch and everyone hates her,” Jessika states like its the most obvious thing in the world. You still have absolutely no idea what made everyone hate her so much. If anyone knew about it, you’re pretty sure that it would be Jessika. But would asking her about it mean that you care? That you’re admitting your feelings?

“Yeah well, that not the point. Kissing someone else is basically cheating, isn’t it?” You swing back to the problem at hand. What happens in their relationship isn’t any of your business, you decide.

“Well, yeah.” She shrugs. “Maybe you should talk to him about this. He might have an explanation for things, ya know? Poe just doesn’t seem like the type to be so careless about someone’s feelings,”

“Huh, since when are you an expert on Poe?” You ask her. It surprised you how Jessika could be so intuitive and heartfelt at times, so at odds with her usual carefree nature.

“I am an expert on everyone, honey,” she says, dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulders.

“Yeah, whatever,” You push past her, still not very convinced. “Oh, did you meet our new neighbor?”

“Rose?” She asks, going back to her muffin. “Yeah, I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“Not an expert on Rose?” You laughed.

“Not yet,” she tells you.

---

“Just ask her, man!” Finn exclaims, sitting opposite Poe in a crowded coffee shop as his best friend nervously shuffles his phone from one hand to the other.

“Urgh, how do I even phrase it? Isn’t it weird if I just ask her out of the blue?” Poe asks.

“You’re thinking too much,” Finn crosses his arm, glaring at him. “Since when are you so afraid to talk to a girl?” 

Finn hates seeing Poe like this, a complete mess and totally out of his element. He had been that way since you left in the hurry the previous day. And in the past almost 24 hours Finn has been the one to put up with all his whining. As much as Finn pities Poe, he also wants to strangle him just to get some peace and quiet.

“Since I fucked up and kissed her and now she probably thinks I’m an asshole who cheats on his girlfriend!” Poe whines.

“Dameron you’re such a fucking drama queen. Just text her!” Poe reluctantly punches in a few words before flipping his phone around for Finn to see. 

“Is this okay? Too short? Too formal?”

“No its fine,” Finn reassures him. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

“What if I just- Hey! What the hell, Finn?” Poe shoots Finn a look of betrayal as the other man pressed send on the text before he could snatch back his phone.

“See! It’s done. Nothing to worry about,”

“Easy for you to say,” Poe mutters indignantly.

---

Your phone buzzes in your pocket in the quiet corner of the library. You were looking for reference books for your latest project from hell which was sucking your soul. You pull your phone out of your pocket, welcoming the distraction.

Poe: Hey, it’s Poe. Are you free around 1 later? Do you want to join me for lunch? :)

Or not. Oh shit. You know Jessika told you to just talk to Poe. Communication is the best way to sort things out, but it’s always easier said than done isn’t it?

Does he want to talk about the events of the previous day? Is he going to tell you that he likes you and that was why he kissed you? But what if he apologizes for it and tells you that it was a mistake instead? You can’t decide which one would be worse.

You don’t want to have lunch with him. Just the thought of seeing him again makes your chest constrict in panic. But you can’t just leave him hanging, you have to reply. And you find yourself thinking for the millionth time, if only I hadn’t gotten so close to him.

Your fingers were dancing above the keypad, contemplating what excuse to give as another notification pops up on the top of your screen. And then another.

Ben: Bro, I need your help.

Ben: Pleeeeaaaassseee I’ll buy you lunch

You spend years getting lunch all alone most of the time and suddenly two boys are fighting for your attention on the same goddamn day. Fun.

It really isn’t a difficult decision to make. Your friend needs your help, so you gotta put that above some casual lunch right? Yeah, totally, you decide. It isn’t because you want to avoid Poe, not at all. You just have somewhere else to be.

And so you take the cowards way out.

You: Okay, where do I meet you?

Ben: Wow that was fast did I speak too soon about lunch?

You: NOPE you’re still buying

—-

“She hasn’t replied. Why hasn't she replied Finn?!” Poe’s fidgeting puts Finn on edge as he watches him pick up the phone and check the notifications, place it down, then pick it up to check the notification, again and again. 

“Because you just texted her, Poe. Maybe she’s busy,” Finn takes a sip of his coffee, Poe’s cup already drained. Finn considers buying him another cup of coffee just to give him something else to do. But knowing his friend, he probably already had at least two this morning. He does not need more caffeine. 

His phone buzzes again and Poe sweeps it up. “It’s not her...” he groans, looking at the screen with barely veiled disappointment.

“Okay, gimme that,” Finn snatches the device from his hand as Poe throws himself back into his seat, pouting like a five-year-old with his toys taken away. “You need patience dude, a lot of it,” Finn shakes his head at him.

Usually, Poe had plenty of patience. But not when it came to you apparently. He doesn’t regret kissing you at all, but maybe he moved too fast? He definitely should have talked to you first, or maybe asked you out first instead of just kissing you. Or told you that he broke up with Sarah. Yep that one, that’s the first thing he should’ve done.

The phone pings again and Poe almost flings himself over the table trying to snatch it from his friend’s hand. “Christ Poe, calm down! God!” Poe pays no mind, but his face falls the second he unlocks his phone. 

“She said she can’t make it,” Poe deflates. “She’s meeting up with someone else for lunch. Finn, she’s avoiding me, right? She doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. How am I supposed to explain anything to her like this?” Poe goes on rambling for- Finn has lost count of the number of times he has heard it. 

“You got anything lessons later?” Poe shakes his head, already starting to sulk in his seat again.

“Let’s go to that diner off-campus you like so much,” Finn suggests. That’ll cheer him up.

---

“Jesus fucking Christ,” You curse, catching your cup before it tipped all the way spilling some of its contents on yourself in the process. A few heads turn your way in the diner but you pay no mind to it. 

“That’s the second time I’m watching you spill something on yourself,” Ben clucks handing you tissues yet again.

“Shut up, Solo,” You snap at him, but take the tissues from him anyways, trying to blot the dampness from your sweatshirt.

“No no, I was right. You do need a nanny following you around cleaning up after you,” he sounds so monotonous but you just know he’s laughing at you.

“Oh, look at me I’m Ben Solo, I’m a med student and I need help to write a fucking essay!” You mock him in retaliation.

“Okay smartass, what about you help me instead of destroying more tables,” you flip him off as he pulls his laptop out of his bag and moves both your cups out of your reach.

“You’re mean, you know that?” You admonish him and not a second after the last word leaves your mouth, a heavy fabric hits you in the face.

You almost roll it back up and fling it back at him before he says, “Put it on, you’re going to be cold,” He had a point. Your half drenched sweatshirt wasn’t going to dry anytime soon. And the huge blot of brown didn’t exactly look great on your light grey sweatshirt.

“Thanks. You’re that mean,” you pronounce before draping it over your shoulders. 

---

“Rey could help,” Finn suggests, rubbing his hands together in efforts to gain some warmth in the cold weather.

“She definitely will not help, I ate the last cookie,” Poe answers dejectedly scuffing the heel of his boot on the sidewalk, hands buried deep inside his pocket as he drags his feet beside Finn.

“I’ll ask her for you,” Finn offers. There was only so much whining a man can take, at least this way he will be helping Poe, and himself. Two birds, one stone.

Poe pushes open the door to the diner, the sounds and the smell immediately lifting his rotten mood. The diner is relatively small, but the checkered tiles and the smell of greasy burgers never fail to make him smile. 

The diner is crowded as usual, filled with the sound of loud conversations and cutlery clinking together. Poe hadn’t taken two steps in when his heart plunges straight into his stomach.

He sees you there, looking gorgeous as ever, laughing with your friend. A jacket, clearly not yours, around your shoulders as the two of you sat squeezed into the same side of the booth. You pay no mind to anything else, he’s too far for you to notice him there.

So that’s why you ran away after kissing him. Poe has this sinking feeling that he has been reading the situation all wrong. You never did like him. It was Ben all along. And last night the kiss must have been a heat of the moment thing, not because you actually liked him. That was why you have been avoiding him since. Because you feel guilty. 

It all makes sense now. He never should’ve kissed you.

Finn walks right into Poe, frozen in place. “The hell, man?” He slaps him on the shoulder. The actions seem to startle Poe out of his trance. He turns on his heel and storms off, not bothering to wait for Finn to catch up with him.

---

“She ditched me for Ben Solo,” Poe was positively fuming. “For Ben fucking Solo. Of all people Finn! Ben Solo,” he exclaims. Rey sits cross-legged on the sofa beside Finn, watching her friend slowly lose his mind. Clearly, the problem is Ben Solo related. Again. She has no idea what happened this time, but something tells her, now is not the best time to ask Poe about it. She could just ask Finn later.

“Calm down you’re gonna summon him or something,” Finn says looking for lunch to order, watching Poe pace. Clearly, lunch was the last thing on his mind, but Finn was hungry.

“Calm down? Ben Solo, Finn!” Poe exclaims.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Finn mutters under his breath.

“I need to take a walk. Come on Beebs,” The corgi happily jumps up from its perch on the sofa at the sound of the keys jiggling, following Poe hot on his heels.

“Oh my god, he’s gone crazy,” Finn mutters again, watching Poe walk out, almost slamming the door behind him.

“What was it this time?” Rey asks and Finn sighs heavily before explaining in great detail the events of the day.

“It could be a misunderstanding and maybe they are just friends. But given what happened last time, I don’t really blame Poe for assuming otherwise. Rey, you gotta talk to her. It already a big mess, we need to help,” He concludes, sprawled across the couch, his head resting on Rey’s lap as she thoughtfully munched on an apple.

“Okay, I’ll help him this time,” she nods slowly. “But I still don’t forgive him for eating the last cookie. It was supposed to be mine,” She huffs.

---

The Dameron taglist (open): @writefightandflightclub​ @arkofblake​ @yougottakeeponkeepinon​ @multifandomlife22​ @skymerons​ @smol-peter-parker​ @rae-rae-patcha​ @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ @spider-starry​ @hkmultifandom​ @cloud-leader​ @elmoakepoke​ @staringmoony​ @valhallavalkyrie9​ @the-cry-of-youth​ @liadamerondjarin​ @m1rkw00dpr1ncess​ @takemepedropascal​ @xremember-me-notx​

[anotheronechicagobog]

The Crackship Sails To Molly’s-I’m Not A Nurse - Rheese - Connor Rhodes x Sarah Reese

written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

A/N: My second Halloween fic, and my first Rheese fic, hope you guys like it!

Warnings: swearing, mention of drugs, mention of how Halloween has been oversexualized, Protective!Ethan, seriously he threatens him and it’s a little intense

Sarah used to love Halloween. Her favourite nanny, Katya, used to be a seamstress and so she would hand make Sarah’s costumes. Sarah had loved it so much that she’d actually gotten the older woman to teach her how to sew, something that came in handy later in life for suturing, and she had been making her own costumes since Katya left to pursue another career. But as she got older new problems arose. Starting at fourteen she was expected to dress in... Revealing costumes. And Sarah did not like that, first of all, it was disgusting to expect women to dress in ‘slutty’ costumes, and second, it was appalling that the expectation was pressured on them so young. So the magic of Halloween she’d loved as a kid shattered, she didn’t even dress up for the holiday anymore unless it was for a costume party where she knew it would be appreciated. That Halloween, she was working in the ED. Even worse, it was the night shift. That meant the usual hell of calling time of death and cranky nurses, while also dealing with drunk morons who use Halloween as an excuse to fuck shit up.

Most of the usual ED staff wasn’t scheduled that night, they were here during the day which had been bad enough, but Sarah, Ethan, Connor, and Ava were all working doubles. Ethan was still avoiding April after their breakup and Noah was helping move her stuff out of their apartment that night before heading to Molly’s, Connor had requested it for some unknown reason, and Ava stayed because she and her girlfriend had gotten into a bad fight but she was using a patient’s touch-and-go condition as an excuse. Sarah downed her sixth coffee before stepping back out into the pits of hell. Connor wasn’t in the ED, probably went back up to the cardiology wing to help with Ava’s patient. Their relationship had improved drastically when Ava figured out she’s gay. It wasn’t something that was accepted in South Africa so she repressed it, even in Chicago, until she met Emily Foster. Ethan was sitting behind a computer with nurses bustling behind him, glaring at his computer screen. Sarah suspected it had less to do with whatever he was reading and more to do with whatever Doris was gossiping about right behind him.

Doris was an excellent nurse. Intelligent, experienced, and sympathetic when necessary. Unfortunately her sympathy did not extend to the other staff at MED whenever they were going through something gossip-worthy, read: deeply personal and often heartbreaking. Sarah had a basic amount of respect for her, but it didn’t expand past more than that since she heard her call Natalie the ‘ice princess’. The woman lost her husband and then found out she was pregnant a month later, had to deal with her mother-in-law constantly, all while continuing her fellowship, and Doris couldn’t say anything nice about her? And while she was right behind her. Another flaw of Doris’, she rarely kept stock of where anyone was in the ED at any given time so she usually ended up supplying MED’s gossip mill right in front of whoever it was about. It was distasteful, really.

“Dr. Reese, incoming, you’re going to treatment three.” 

“What do we have?” Sarah’s eyes began wandering them patient’s body, taking mental notes, as she listened to the debrief from Sylvie Brett and Gianna Mackey. “Male, 24, laceration on the forehead, we stopped the bleeding, but he lost consciousness once at the scene and three times on th way over. He was in a bar fight.”

“Okay, transfer on my count, 1, 2, 3. Good, thanks guys, be careful tonight.”

“You too, Reese.” And with that, the two paramedics left leaving her with a drunk patient and a couple of nurses. Sarah went through her usual checklist of examinations based on the physical exam, questions answered by the patient, and information from the paramedics. “Can you tell me your name?”

“My name’s Brad, am I terr yous anytingting yous wans tas know.”

“Well Brad, my name is Dr. Reese, does anything hurt?”

“Non, non, nona, yous a nurse, ot a-”

“I assure you Brad, I am a doctor, now can you please tell me if you’re feeling any pain and where?”

“Nursh, yous nursh. Where you fish nets? Ans I wants yous boobies.”

“Okay, let’s get him to CT and run a tox screen, his bandage is good for now and the wound is clear, I’ll stitch him up after we run the tests.”

“SOW ME YOUS BOOBIES!”

“... Are there any male nurses available?”

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

The rest of Reese’s night went like that, drunken fools, high morons, and an absolutely swamped ED. Brad shockingly did not have a concussion, and was refusing to let Sarah stitch him up and send him out. She would have just let him sign out AMA, but his tox screen came back with copious amounts of alcohol and ecstasy in his system, so she couldn’t under good conscience let him sign out and leave without the proper treatment in his state. So he was moaning and groaning about... Everything and kept demanding a ‘real’ doctor. “Hey Sarah.” She turned to face him, her shoulder relaxing as she signed in relief at the sound of his voice. A beaming smile graced his features that immediately made Sarah’s day and she really wished that they could just stay like that for the rest of shift. Or eternity, either would do.

“Hi Connor, how are things up in cardiology?”

“Good, good, they don’t really need me up there so I came back down here. Were you scheduled for just the ED tonight or neuro aswell?”

“Just the ED for tonight, I’ve been putting in more hours up there recently so Ms. Goodwin suggested a couple of doubles to catch up.”

“Ah, hey have you seen the movie ‘Knives Out’ yet?” Connor had tensed slightly, and was giving an odd amount of attention to an old coffee mug sitting on the nurse’s station, and a nervous look drained onto his face as he glanced between Sarah and literally anything else. Honestly it bummed Srah out a little, working with Connor was the only silver lining she had while working the graveyard shift, and she’d be lying if she said that her heart didn’t hurt a little everytime Connor looked less than ecstatic. She’d also be lying if she said she wasn’t head over heels in love with him.

“No, I just haven’t had the time! I have to keep running out of the room anytime my housemates talk about the movie so I don’t get any spoilers.”

“I still haven’t seen it either, maybe we could make a day of it, grab some dinner at that Thai place you like and then head over to that theatre by Navy Pier to watch it?”

“You know what Connor, that sounds like a great idea.” And just like that, Connor perked up, his smile was back and so was Sarah’s.

“Really? I mean-”

“Nursh! NURSH! NURSH REESH!” Connor cocked his eyebrow in annoyance un the direction of Brad’s room. Both at the interruption and at the language the man was using.“I keep telling him I’m not a nurse but he just won’t listen to me. And he’s in detox right now so we can’t discharge him yet.”

“Do you want some back up?”

“No, I’m good Connor, but thanks.” So Connor stayed in place as she drifted over to treatment three, his lips pursed together in worry. “Reese’ll be fine, man, she can take care of herself. And did I overhear incorrectly, or did you FINALLY ask Sarah Reese, third year ED and neuro resident, out on a date?”

“... Shut up, Choi.” All the other man could do was let out a boisterous laugh, while Connor didn’t really appreciate that all the attention was on them now, or that he was being mocked for finally addressing his feelings, Connor had to admit, he hadn’t seen Choi laugh in a while, let alone so sincerely. So he cracked an embarrassed smile and chuckled along with him. “I’m happy that I won’t have to see you looking after like a lost puppy, but in all seriousness, Reese is like a little sister to me. I you hurt her I’ll string you up by your toes and make you eat your own kidney.” Choi’s eyes had gone completely devoid of amusement, they were hollow and dead serious, at that moment Choi looked how he did whenever he had to think about his time overseas. A pang of fear fluttered through his chest. “I’ll- ahm- I’ll keep that in mind.” Connor forced himself to break eye contact and Choi nodded definitively. The tension still hadn’t dissipated by the time Sarah got back. “You know, I used to love Halloween. I used to handmake all of y costumes. Now? Hate. It. Women are expected to dress in ‘slutty’ costumes, and everytime I work the day of, before, or after Halloween I get idiots who will ask why I’m not in my ‘proper uniform’, and some more idiots who are far to handsy. I just can’t wait for this shift to be over.” 

“I take it Brad is being a little too friendly, then?”

“Yeah, I just have to keep thinking ‘only one more hour, only one more hour’.”

“And you used to make your own costumes? They must have been great!”

“They were! When I was twelve I was Medusa, fourteen I was one of the Beauxbatons from ‘Harry Potter’, Poison Ivy when I was sixteen, I had a lot of awesom costumes over the years but those were my top three. Oh! I saved pictures to my phone, hold on.”

“Well why don’t you still dress up? You clearly love it, and those costumes are amazing.”

“Other people have certain expectations for Halloween, as I mentioned before, and I started to get a lot of negative attention for it. So unless I’m going to a Halloween party that hasn’t been thrown by horny teenagers masquarading as adults, I just don’t dress up anymore.”

“I’m sorry Sarah. It’s a bit too late for this year, I think you’ve inspired me to throw a Halloween party next year.”

“Connor, you don’t have to do that just for me.”

“I know, which is why I’ll also be doing it for me. I used to like Halloween too, but like you said, it just gets so... Pervy when you grow up. I think it’d be really nice to have a Halloween where I can get excited about costumes again, it used to be my favourite part, too.”

“I’ll right, well I’ll keep my calendar open. For that one day, three hundred and sixty-four days from now.”

“That’s great. I loo forward to it.”

“And as for our ‘Knives Out’ date, would you be free for it tonight?”

“Uh...” Connor was taken aback, he had asked her out, yes, but he wasn’t sure if it actually came across as a date. And he was too nervous to ask himself because he really liked Sarah, she had become one of his best friends and she truly had carbed out her own spot in Connor’s heart, something he welcomed. “Unless... You didn’t aske me out and I just and I just made everything super awkward...” Connor could see Sarah start to internally chastise herself, so he gently grabbed her elbow before she could walk away, hope blooming inside of him. “I did ask you out on a date, and tonight sounds perfect.”

“Really?” Sarah smiled up at him and Connor couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he did to be lucky enough to have her in his life. “Yeah, really.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later tonight, Connor.”

“Yeah, you will.” And twenty minutes later, after both of their shifts had ended and they were free to go, they left smiling, excited for the future and not despising a mutually memorable holiday as much as they did going in.