#why do tonsils have to be

[benji-screem]

why is my body just in love with strep. I get it so much for no mf reason wtf

[thelovelyblark-barg]

I'm so tired of having a body that has never liked me

the corkscrewing spine, the tonsils the constant size of ping pong balls, the cyclical vomiting syndrome, the chronic migraines, the periods that go for anywhere from 3 weeks to 3 months,

[tiercel]

W/ all the reactionary talk regarding trans peoples bodies and shit i would love to see repubs and tεrves reactions to all the fascinating body modifications that exist for aesthetic and fetish purposes

[mosspapi]

Note to self, it is damn near impossible to check urself out for strep throat using nothing but a bathroom mirror and ur phone flashlight, and you will inevitably end up with dozens of disgusting pictures of the back of ur throat in varying degrees of blurriness

[subaquatic-skyscraper]

Might need my tonsils out

[ghostedeabha]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[chrisbangs]

this cold is kicking my ass

[sukunasteeth]

Stitches

Sukuna has never made you wait for him.

He was always on time, always there before you, and if circumstances arose where-in he couldn't be, you always knew an hour before. You were never left to wonder or worry.

If Sukuna says he'll be there, he's there.

So when you wake up to his cold and empty bed, after hours of waiting for him to return home from work, you want to assume the best case scenario.

He's just working late, you assure yourself when your eyes find the clock on the nightstand and it tells you that it's two o'clock in the morning. Maybe he was so entranced in whatever he was tending to that he had forgotten to call you and tell you he'd be late. It had never happened before, but there was a first time for everything.

You try not to trip over your own two feet on your way to the bathroom, ignoring the dread that immediately darkens your thoughts upon checking your phone for the hundredth time that night.  

No call. No text... Did he tell you in person earlier in the day and you had simply forgotten?

What if he's hurt?

You round the corner of the hallway.

What if he's in trouble?

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't even register seeing the bathroom light peeking out from under the door.

You push it open.

What if he's-

Standing over the sink, dripping in blood, and using a fishing line to sew up an enormous gash splitting into his side?

You're frozen in the doorway. 

Faced with the unfortunate answer to the questions that had been progressively plaguing you the entirety of the night. Shock grips your throat and has a cold sweat breaking out over your skin.

You haven't seen him so roughed up since the two of you were in high school. Sukuna, always hungry for a test of strength, had often walked you home with a bloody nose or a ripped open pair of knuckles, but this would be the first time you've seen him look like he just rolled out of a fight club ring. 

He's taken off his suit jacket and his usually pristine white button down has been torn to shreds. The pieces that are left of it have adhered to the deepest of his wounds, soaked in crimson. He's holding up the hem of his shirt with his teeth, glaring down at a particularly large slice in his torso as he feeds a needle into the skin and puts himself back together again. One of his eyes is swollen and there's a small cut to the side of it. You can tell that he'll have a black eye come morning. Sukuna must see you in the corner of it, because he suddenly turns to look at you. The edge of his shirt falls out of his mouth, but Sukuna doesn't seem to notice, too surprised by your presence.

The two of you take each other in. Silently appraising the situation.

Before you can react, his surprise is already morphing into a resigned, disappointed sigh.

"Aw shit."

"What the HELL?!" You don't recognize the voice that escapes you in your panic. Raspy from the sleep still coating your throat, disjointed as your tonsils remember themselves and yet forget how to operate in your shock. You're across the room in a flash, nearly tripping headfirst into him in your haste. "What happened?! Y-You're hurt. Why are you hurt? Jesus, that looks so bad- oh my god. 'Kuna-"

"Shhh," He's hushing you. You're close enough for him to reach out with his free hand and pull you even closer, he doesn't seem to notice the streak of fresh blood he leaves behind on your wrist. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"You're covered in blood!" You whisper in horror, you search his eyes for even an ounce of alarm, and find only his usual nonchalance lounging there. As though this was nothing out of the ordinary.

He even looks down at himself like he wants to refute you, but when he picks up the collar of his shirt, finding the shredded pieces of what remained of it, he seems to think better. 

"Little bastards didn't do half bad, actually." He mutters to himself. He almost sounds... impressed. "Any deeper and it could have really been a pain in my ass."

"What happened?" You ask again, desperate.

"Just some kids waiting outside of the office." He rubs at the back of his head, and you notice another small cut there over a raised bump that seems to be swelling at the base of his skull. It must be tender, because he grimaces when he grazes it. You do too, just from watching him. "Trying to make some pocket money off of me and Uraume. They should have at least waited until we were both alone." When he pulls his hand away from his head, there's fresh blood glistening on his fingertips. He sucks his teeth. "Amateurs."

You take a deep, steadying breath- willing your heartbeat to slow.

You were the one who decided to fall for a man constantly looking for a good fight. At this point, you had only yourself to be disappointed with.

Without another word you turn your back to him and head straight for the shower. You needed him to wash off. You wouldn't be able to tell which parts of him needed attention in the mess that was currently coating his skin and you were already preparing mentally to tend to him. You spin the dial to ‘hot’ and turn back to him, trying your best to glare. You didn't think it was working very well. Especially because he's smiling softly at you.

"Get in." You command, pointing to the tub.

Sukuna scoffs softly, turning back to his needle and fishing line.

"It's fine.” He brushes you off. “I'm just going to rinse the cuts as I go-"

"Sukuna." You don't mean for it to come out as demanding as it does. Sukuna was hurt. You wanted to be gentle with him, but you can't help how overwhelmed you are at the sight of him battered to such a degree.

He slowly lifts his head like he was giving you time to think about the way you had just spoken to him before he meets your eyes again. You're too roused to take it back. "Get. In."

You can tell in his momentary silence that he doesn't recognize this shade of frustration on you. He's watching you like he's trying to take in every detail of it. Engrave it into his brain. Part of you is reminded in that moment that it wasn't Sukuna's anger you were in risk of pushing, but rather his excitement.

He folds up the fishing line and loops it around the sewing needle, placing it onto the counter without turning to look at it.

Your unrelenting stance falters a bit as he crosses the room after you, unbuttoning his dress shirt as he goes. His eyes never leave yours, testing your will.

When he makes it to you, he's brimming with pride. His belt clinks when he unloops the first notch. 

"Yes ma'am." He purrs.

...

An hour later, he's as clean as he can be and sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat. You're perched in his lap, having already finished stitching shut the larger wounds that needed it. Now you're down to the last small cut left, which is on his cheek. It didn't require much attention, it was a tiny graze compared to the rest of the gashes you had tended to.

You can feel Sukuna watching you with a smitten little smile, like you had just spent the past hour silently telling him how much you adored him with your gentle but stern touches.

It ticks you off.

"Stop looking at me like that." You mutter, pressing the last of the steri-strips against his skin.

He doesn't even pretend to stop. You refuse to meet his gaze as you do a final examination of your handiwork. Finally, with him properly patched up and without a single drop of fresh blood in sight, the pain in your heart eases. He was okay. 

"...Why didn't you have Uraume help you with this before you came home?" You pretend to reassess one of the gauze strips on his bicep, but it's really just an excuse to nervously pick at the cotton while you're underneath his gaze.

There were plenty of people at the office who knew how to deal with wounds to this severity, professional medics that could have sewed him up twice as fast and sent him home just as clean as when he had arrived. So why did he wait so long for help?

Sukuna hums and his bandaged knuckles glide up and down the outsides of your thighs. "Maybe I like watching you play nurse."

"Kuna~" You groan hopelessly, letting your head thunk against his shoulder. "Quit teasing. I'm mad at you." You announce.

It only serves to widen his grin, which you can feel pressed against your hair as he kisses your forehead.

"But you're so cute when you want to be mad at me." He mocks your tone of voice and chuckles when you press your thumb into the bandage on his bicep in an attempt to punish him-just a bit.

Quickly, he snatches your hand, locking the both of your fingers together and gently nudging your head with his own. Silently asking you to look up again.

You're trying your best to pout at him, but you're surprised to see softness where you expected to find mischief in his expression. There's a warm fondness to his gaze. One you usually only see him wear when he's watching you talk about something you're particularly passionate about.

"I'm sorry I made you worry." The genuineness of the statement softens the hard lines of your face. And just like that, you completely forget that you’re supposed to be mad at him. His fingers trace the space between your brows where he had just made an angry knot disappear. "I do hate it when I do that."

Maybe it was a tactic to get off the hook. But it was a good one. It even has you feeling guilty for being hard on him. 

"I don't like seeing you covered in blood." You whisper, finally meeting his eyes. The glimmer there is triumphant.

"I'll hose off out front next time, how's that?"

You bite back a laugh at the image, trying to keep your stern disposition. You lean in, so as to impart the severity of your tone. "No next time."

Sukuna leans in closer, "And I'll have to get you a nurse's outfit."

"No next time!"

You were in love with the epitome of mischief. There was always going to be a next time.

[ellecdc]

can i formally request something? (i have no idea if you take smut requests so please ignore me if not😭) a barty x reader smut where everyone already thinks they’re together so they’re like 🤔?? maybe they’re onto something

and maybe if they try to tell people (read regulus) they’re just like -_-¿ this is new

and well done on your exams!! i’m sure you aced them

hahaha omg this is so Barty and reader coded fr. thanks for your request (I hope I did it justice)

Barty Crouch Jr x afab fem!reader who has sex for the first sodding time, Evan

CW: smut - like straight up porn people, p in v intercourse, pussy slapping cuz apparently I'm a freak, soft choking, a slap in the face if you squint, 18+

This conversation had been going on for so long that you were truly fighting the urge to throw your head back and let out a guttural scream out of pure frustration.

But Barty never fought his urges.

“For fuck’s sake!” He screeched. “How many sodding times do you need me to say it: we - are - not - to - geth - er!” He shouted at Evan, emphasising each syllable with a stomp of his foot. 

Evan smirked and shared a look with Dorcas before rolling his eyes.

“Sure. And what exactly is this?” He asked, gesturing with his book at your tangled forms.

Okay, so maybe you and Barty were physically affectionate with each other - but that didn’t mean anything.

“What?” Barty asked simply.

“The way you’re sitting, Junior.” Dorcas drawled in a bored tone.

You both looked at each other like you were only just now realising your proximity to each other. 

You were positioned on the cushion of the sofa between Barty’s thighs with his arms wrapped around you and his hands weaselled under your shirt and tucked under your breasts.

What?

It was for warmth; he has terrible circulation, you know.

“We always sit like this.” You replied.

Evan scoffed. “You always sit like you’re one sneeze away from having his dick slip inside of you?”

“Okay, you know what?” Barty said, slipping his hands out from your shirt and patting your thighs to say ‘get up’, and standing up behind you. “I didn’t come here to be spoken to like this, least of all by someone who has his head shoved so far up his arse that he could check for tonsillitis.”

Evan shut his book he’d been pretending to read up until that point causing Barty to screech and shout at you to ‘save yourself’ as the two of you took off in the direction of his dorm room. 

You were laughing and breathless by the time you made it into Barty’s room and he shut the door behind you, casting a locking charm for good measure should Evan come looking for retribution for the slander.

“Honestly, I think they’re just jealous.” You said breathlessly.

Barty nodded as he sucked in a few deep breaths himself. “I mean, it’s kind of sad he’s never had a best friend that he felt so comfortable with, you know?”

“Exactly!” 

“And I don’t know why everyone has to make it so sexual. Do you have great tits? Sure. But that’s not why I put my hands on them!”

“Of course.” You agreed readily. “And I mean, are we two of the hottest people to walk these fucking halls? Of course we are -”

“Absolutely.”

“- but that doesn’t mean we’re shagging!”

“Right!” Barty said with finality as he finally sat down on the chair at his desk. “I don’t know why they have to make everything so weird.”

“Me either.” You groaned as you fell backwards onto Barty’s bed and stared up at the green velvet bed curtains draped over the four poster bed. “They’re probably just jealous.” You repeated. “I mean, we would make a really hot couple; I’d want to be with us too.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I was just thinking.” Barty agreed quickly. “And if we were having sex, they’d bloody know it. It would be hot.”

“Gods, it really would be, wouldn't it?”

“Without a doubt; I’m great in bed, and you’re great at everything.” Barty said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You know what.” You said as you sat up to face Barty. “It would be hot. Great sex comes from trust-”

“Check.”

“- communication,”

“Check.”

“Familiarity,”

“Duh.”

“Confidence.”

“Obviously.”

“We’d be sodding lucky to be shagging each other!” You proclaimed.

“I agree!” He responded. 

You both stared at each other; breathing slightly laboured having gotten yourselves so worked up pleading your cases (to no one, seeing as you were both clearly on the same page).

“Huh.” Barty said finally, giving your body a once over. “You know, maybe it is weird we haven’t fucked before.”

“Yeah.”

Your eyes met his green ones that held an intensity you’d not seen from him before.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna fuck?”

“Yeah.”

And like a flip had been switched, the two of you were launching yourselves at each other. 

No time was spent savouring touches or testing waters. It was all teeth clashing, tongues dancing, heavy breathing, and tearing each other’s clothes off.

It felt somehow both forbidden and oh so right.

You’d truly never thought about Barty like this; you really were just that comfortable with one another.

But as you pulled his shirt over his head and started fussing with his belt, a fire roared to life inside you screaming we should have been doing this the whole bloody time. 

You nearly tripped over the waistband of your trousers as Barty backed the two of you towards his bed where he sat on the edge.

You broke apart for air as he moved his sinful mouth down the expanse of your torso and took to marking up your breasts.

“Salazar they’re even better like this.” He murmured to himself before taking one of your nipples in his mouth whilst he pinched the other.

You ran your finger through his hair, an action you'd done many times before, but never like this.

You pulled at it roughly and brought his lips back to yours as you pushed him to lay back on his bed so you could straddle him.

“Merlin, Y/N. No foreplay?” He chuckled breathlessly as you gave his cock a few strokes and whispered a lubrication charm.

“Next time.” You sighed as you lined him up with your entrance and slowly sank down onto his cock, causing the two of you to moan in unison.

“Next time, huh?” Barty teased as he smoothed his hands up and down your sides, allowing the two of you to adjust to the feeling of one another before you experimentally rolled your hips.

“What? Don’t you want to fuck me, Junior?” You taunted right back.

Barty thrusted his hips up roughly into yours, causing you to cry out and place your hands on his shoulders to stabilise yourself. “I think it’s very obvious I want to fuck you.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, bringing your mouth back to his and biting gently on his bottom lip.

“Yeah.”

You breathed a laugh out through your nose before you bit down harder.

“Then fuck me.”

And before you could tell which way was up, Barty had flipped the two of you over so he now hovered over top of you and had his hand wrapped around your neck.

“You want to be fucked, doll?” He groaned as he hooked one of your legs around his hip allowing himself that much deeper in you.

If there was one thing you could thank the fucked up breeding habits of Purebloods for, it was apparently the size of their cocks. 

“You want me to ruin you?” He continued as he added more pressure to your throat, still grinding into your now sopping cunt. “Make sure no other wizard is ever good enough for you?”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire; the feeling when you’re sitting on the poolside in the sun after a swim; the beads of water only make the sun’s rays feel that much warmer against your skin.

“Oi.” He demanded, giving your cheek a chastising tap. “You gonna be good for me?” He asked more seriously this time.

His beautiful green eyes were nearly fully eclipsed by his pupils as he continued moving in and out of you with what you realised now was a very controlled pace. But you were eager to see where he’d go from here.

“I’ll be good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.” He ordered.

“I’ll be good.”

“What was that?”

“I’ll be good, Barty.” You whined, pulling at his arms in an attempt to bring him closer.

“Who are you going to be good for?”

“You.”

“Yeah?”

You hummed in agreement as he hiked up your other leg and wrapped it around his hip.

“Tell me.”

“I’ll be good for you! Promise. I’ll be so good for you, please.”

Barty chuckled and let out a taunting cooing sound as he fell to his elbows and brought his face to yours.

“There’s no need to beg, sweets.”

And just like that, he was pulling away from you again.

Suddenly, his hands were on your hips and he lifted them into the air, holding them there as he began slamming into you. 

“Gonna be so fucking good for me, aren’t you angel?” He grunted.

You scrunched your eyes shut at the feeling of his throbbing cock pounding into you; adjusting his angle every few thrusts in search of something.

“I bet you’re a fucking screamer, huh? You always got so much to say babygirl; don’t go quiet on me now.”

His fingers dug further into the fat of your hips as he adjusted his grip on you, causing you to let out an embarrassing keening sound.

Apparently that was close, but not quite what Barty had been looking for.

“Close. How about we try…”

And he pulled out of you completely before landing a hard smack against your pussy, forcing a surprised scream to tear from your throat. 

“There’s the pretty sounds I was looking for.” He celebrated, rubbing placating circles on your clit before repositioning himself and sinking back into you. “Think you can keep that up for me, Princess?”

“Yes!” You cried quickly, grabbing helplessly at the bedding as he once again lifted your hips up into the air, finding that sweet spot inside you that he’d been in search of before his interruption.

He knew he found his mark when you let out another strangled sob.

“Alright pretty girl, there we go, huh? Does that feel good?”

You were babbling affirmatives nonsensically as he groaned at the sensation of your walls clenching around him; yesses and pleases spilling from your lips.

“Fuck you feel so good.”

“Please Barty.” You cried, reaching a hand up to his wrist.

He let your hips fall to the bed as he brought one thumb to your clit and his other hand took yours in his.

“What is it, princess? Hm?”

“Please.” You whined, and it sounded pathetic even in your own ears in your current state.

But Barty only tsked and pulled two of your fingers into his mouth which he began to suck.

You could feel the tension building in your core as he quickened his pace with his thumb and his hips before letting your fingers go with a pop.

“I’ll take care of your princess, you know that. When have I ever let you down?”

Never.

“Never.”

He smiled triumphantly down at you; and though his mouth was cocky, his eyes were sincere. 

“Exactly. I’m not about to start now, yeah?”

And suddenly his thumb was gone from your clit, your ankles were thrown over his shoulders and he was leaning his weight against the backs of your thighs as he began thrusting into you with an air of desperation.

“Atta girl; so good, huh? S’good.” He grunted as his thrusts became somewhat sloppy. “S’fuckin’ good for me. Perfect for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted with each thrust of his hips. “Please, oh gods, please, please Barty.”

“I know, I know.” He grunted, clearly as close to teetering over some sort of edge as you were. “I know, I feel it. You’re alright, yeah? Go on, sweets; I’ve got you.”

And his hands were holding onto your thighs for dear life and he was kissing at your knee like even that silly little part of you was something worthy of worship, and he did have you and he never let you down and he wasn’t going to start now and you saw stars as you finally fell over the edge.

The room fell quiet as Barty locked his lips on yours, and you realised you’d been screaming. 

His hips stuttered as he thrust into you once, twice, three times more before he followed you over the edge; letting your legs fall from his shoulders as he fell to his elbows on top of you and the two of you fought to catch your breath.

In complete contrast to the Barty who was only moments ago pounding mercilessly into you, he started placing, slow, lingering, gentle kisses over your face as his thumbs rubbed idly at your temples.

He pressed a kiss to your neck, your jaw, the tip of your nose, over your eyelids, your forehead, your ear.

You knew Barty could have a soft side, but you never imagined it so tender.

“I knew you’d be a screamer.” He whispered, breaking you out of the serene moment and surprising a bark of laughter from you, which caused both of you to groan in discomfort before Barty slowly pulled out of you. 

“Stay here, princess.” He instructed as he walked away from the bed and returned a few moments later with a warm cloth and one of his (read: your favourite of his) t-shirts.

You watched him carefully as he cleaned you up - and once again, what probably should have felt awkward or embarrassing felt nothing but natural as he doted on you. 

“Can you sit up?” He asked; not one hint of condescension in his tone as he held the neckhole of his shirt open for you to slip your head into.

As it poked through, he pressed a kiss to your lips before helping to thread your arms in.

“Is it safe to assume we’ll be doing that again?” You asked with a smirk, causing him to scoff dramatically. 

“We’ll be doing that the rest of our lives if I have anything to say about it.”

After a shower and a change into comfies, the two of you returned to the common room, and though Dorcas was long gone, Evan could be found where the two of you had left him, now in the company of Regulus. 

“Well boys.” Barty sang dramatically as he swung his legs over the back of the sofa and landed on the seat with a bounce. “We just fucked.”

You rolled your eyes at his blatant goading as you sat beside him.

“Yeah? And I had potions today; so what?” Regulus muttered without looking up from his novel.

“What do you mean so what? This was the first time!” Barty argued.

“This is new.” You insisted severely.

“You know, I always knew Barty was a liar; but I expected better from you, Y/N.”

Your mouth dropped open as Regulus and Evan stood up and walked away from the seating area.

What you didn’t see as they walked towards the Slytherin dungeons was Regulus passing Evan five Galleons for their bet on who could convince the two of you to finally get over your “just friends” bit.

[rcmclachlan]

Return of the Mack

For @alchemistc. Hope you feel better soon!

At the fire academy, three things are beaten out of every trainee: fear, a normal sleep schedule, and the social influences that prevent one from intervening in the event of an emergency. Some have jokingly called the third one the Anti-Bystander Effect, because if someone needs assistance—whether it's to stop an assault, run into a burning building, or help a little old lady find a quarter she dropped—a firefighter will immediately rush in to save the day. It's a special brand of classical conditioning that instills an elevated sense of responsibility in every trainee, and it's paid in full by the state of California.

Which is why it's so odd for there to be three capable firefighters standing around doing nothing while there's an old man clearly in need of dire assistance. If the LAFD higher-ups knew they were actively choosing to watch the carnage unfold instead of lifting a finger to help, they'd all be shitcanned. 

Luckily, there's a fourth firefighter on the scene doing the absolute most. 

"I thought we made a pact to keep him from using his powers for evil," Eddie says, taking a dispassionate sip of his coffee. 

"Is it evil if he's actually using them in service of a greater good?" Hen's attention is half on what's going down and half on the Notes app on her phone, where she's typing out the week's grocery list. "You know, the enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

Draped over the railing like his bones have melted, Chimney gives a sage nod. "He's like a one-man Suicide Squad." 

In the apparatus bay, they watch as Vincent Gerrard uses the distraction of B Shift heading home to duck behind one of the engines, most likely to regroup after being thoroughly ambushed the second he stepped into the station five minutes ago. He slumps back and breathes. The moment of weakness costs him: a grinning demon rounds the corner and makes a bee-line for him as though he can taste blood in the air.

"So, which one of you said 'spreadsheet' three times in a mirror?" Ravi sidles up next to Chimney and unwraps a breakfast burrito from Delia's. 

Chimney gives him the stink-eye. "I hope you brought enough for the whole class."

"Nope," Ravi says, taking a cheerful bite.

"None of us summoned him," Eddie says. He leans down to try and catch the conversation being had, but he's too high up. For a second, he thinks he hears the words 'crack whore' but it's probably a trick of the bay's acoustics. "He's everywhere, always, just watching and waiting for you to slip up. Like God."

"Or the Devil," Hen says in agreement.

"Or Santa," Chimney adds.

Ravi chews thoughtfully. "I thought we threw out all the clipboards. Who gave him that one?"

"Tommy," Eddie, Hen, and Chimney say through a simultaneous, long-suffering sigh. 

It's not just any clipboard. It's the king of clipboards. It's the only clipboard that has ever fucked. The thing is a navy blue polycarbonate beast with "Buckley 118" embossed in fire engine red on the back, and the clip looks like it was forged in the fires of Staples HQ. 

At the bi-weekly Beer and Bitch Night last Friday at Golden Road Pub, Tommy had pulled it out of a bag and presented it on one knee like he was proposing, or bestowing a sword to a king. The entire brewery was then given front-row seats to an intense game of tonsil hockey that nearly went into overtime until Eddie threatened to call Athena because Bobby looked like he was seriously reconsidering sobriety.

"Does he know what he's unleashed?" Ravi sounds genuinely curious. 

As if on cue, Chimney's, Eddie's, and Hen's phones chime with three incoming messages. 

T.K. 07:26am: Has it started? T.K. 07:26am: Remember: you promised one of you would film it T.K. 07:27am: I'm offering 3 nights of free babysitting to the first person who delivers

That last one is followed by a gif of J. Jonah Jameson shouting "Bring me Spiderman!"

Hen frowns down at her phone. "Who the hell is that?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Chimney mutters.

H.W. 07:28am: Why are you so desperate for video?  E.D. 07:28am: What 40-something year old still pinky swears? H.H. 07:28am: Clipboard Buck better not be a weird sex thing for you, Kinard

Tommy's typing indicator appears, then disappears. Then appears and disappears again. Then appears—

"Yeah, no." Chimney hastily pockets his phone. "Those two were made in a lab for each other, I swear to god."

Down in the bay, Gerrard has moved to stand almost directly underneath them. While they can't hear what Gerrard says to Melanie Wu, an electrician so talented she could probably take down the entire grid with her eyes closed, that puts such a dour expression on her face, they can hear it when Buck, popping up behind Gerrard like an insane Jack-in-the-box, says, "Don't worry, Melanie! This is something to bring up during Thursday's workplace conflict seminar."

"What seminar?!"

Buck isn't cowed. He taps his clipboard and says, "The one I scheduled with Chief Alonso. You know, the mandatory one we all need to do in order to keep our certification—well, we'll keep it as long as nothing comes up during the seminar that might call into question our ability to do the job."

There's a charged moment where it almost looks like Gerrard might take a swing at Buck, but then he notices the audience hanging above him like a Greek chorus and shouts, "Someone'd better top off the fuel and DEF or—"

"Already done, Cap." Buck makes a show of turning to the second page on his clipboard and lists off, "All fuel, DEF, oil, and coolant are set. Tires have been aired up. Hoses have been drained and cleaned, and re-rolled. Engines were all waxed yesterday, all medical supplies have been inventoried and stocked, and I've made a list of the harnesses and cutting torches that need replacing. Just need you to sign off on everything. Sir."

The ingratiating smile on Buck's face would fool even the wiliest of senior officers, and Gerrard himself looks like even he's not sure if what just happened was disrespectful, but they know better. 

"Diabolical," Ravi whispers, awed. 

Hissing through his teeth, Gerrard spins on his heel and storms away in the direction of the little office in the administrative section of the firehouse where he's taken to holing up like a miserable groundhog until they get a call that forces him back out. If he sees his shadow on the firehouse wall, it's six more hours of bullshit.

As soon as he's gone, all the firefighters that had stopped to watch the show burst into laughter and applause, and Buck cracks up, taking sweeping bows and blowing kisses to his adoring fans. 

Chimney rolls his eyes and looks to see what Hen's expression is doing, because no one gives good face like she does, but she's holding her phone in a way that clearly means—

"You're filming this?" Chimney demands, betrayed.

She gives an unrepentant shrug. "Three nights of free babysitting? I'm not proud."

"You do know this means Buck's going to get laid and be absolutely insufferable about it, right?"

"Three nights," Hen bites out through very audible regret.

Buck looks up, flashes a grin, and the second he clocks the phone he salutes it with the clipboard. Then he struts after Gerrard, calling almost lazily, "Cap, wait up! I wanted to talk about setting up a mock exam for everyone who's planning on taking the TCFP D/O!"

They all watch him go. Silently, Hen sends off the video with the air of someone about to make a drug drop. 

"So, when does Taylor Kelly's exposé come out again?" Eddie makes a dubious face in the direction of the administrative offices. "Because I don't know that Gerrard won't off himself before it does."

"We win either way," Chimney points out. 

"It comes out next Monday," Hen says, slipping her phone into her pocket and elbowing Chimney in the arm on her way to the stairs. "Karen and I are hosting a watch party that night and you're all invited."

Ravi beams. "Thanks, Hen. I'll definitely be there."

"And you'll be bringing dinner from Taco Azteca—for everybody. Make sure you get enough carne," Chimney calls over his shoulder as he follows Hen. 

"I'm not a probie anymore," Ravi whines. "You can't haze me like this."

Snickering, Eddie pats him on the shoulder and says, "You do this and I'll make sure you're not sitting anywhere near Buck and Tommy when Taylor drops the bomb about Gerrard and Ortiz."

"Extra al pastor and buche it is!"

[jackles010378]

Confessions of the night...

Dean winchester x Y/n

No warnings, just pure fluff 💚

When it's Sam's turn to hook up and bring a women back to the motel room, you find dean sleeping in his car and invite him to sleep in your room.

Dean sat in the Impala, his mind racing with a mix of emotions. He had never been one to shy away from a good time, but this time was different. Usually, it was him who brought girls back to their motel room, but tonight it had been Sam who had hooked up. And it left him feeling a bit out of place.

After successfully getting rid of a wendigo, Dean, Sam and y/n went to the bar nearest the motel to let of a little steam. Y/n called an early night and left the boys at the bar. Dean wanted to walk y/n back to the motel but she told him to stay with Sammy and have fun.

Dean had caught the eye of a few women in the bar, but none had peaked his interest. What he didn't expect to see was Sammy playing tonsil hockey with a pretty brunette on his way back from the toilet. He stood frozen for a second but then had a proud look on his face as he thought to himself 'that's my boy'. Dean pulled his jacket off the back of the chair he'd been sitting in, momentarily interrupting the make out session between his brother and the girl sitting on his lap. He slid the room key over to Sammy saying "don't do anything I wouldn't" with a wink and a smirk.

As Sam and the girl disappeared into the motel room, Dean made up his mind to sleep in the Impala. Taking a swig from his trusty flask, he settled into the backseat, hoping the familiar scent of leather and oil would soothe his restless thoughts.

Meanwhile, Y/N, was making her way to the ice machine. Dressed in a t-shirt (that she had stolen from Dean) and shorts, she was surprised to see Dean sitting in the Impala in the dimly lit parking lot, she wondered if he and Sammy had had a fight after she had left them at the bar. She could sense his unease and decided to approach him.

"Hey, Dean," Y/N called out softly. Dean looked up, surprised to see her there. Y/N gestured towards her room. "You look like you could use a decent night's sleep. Why don't you come crash in my room? I promise I won't bite."

Dean hesitated for a moment, but the offer was too tempting to resist. He followed Y/N to her room, taking in her easy smile and the warmth that radiated from her. Settling in on the spare bed, y/n handing him a beer, Dean found himself opening up to Y/N in a way he rarely did with others.

As the night wore on, the two of them talked about everything under the sun - from hunting to childhood memories. Dean found himself drawn to Y/N's easy laughter and the genuine interest she showed in him. And before long, he found himself confessing his fears and doubts about their dangerous way of life.

Y/N listened intently, her eyes full of understanding and compassion. She reached out and took Dean's hand in hers, she moved over to sit by his side, the feeling of her by his side sent a rush of warmth through him. In that moment, Dean knew he had found someone who saw past the tough exterior he presented to the world.

As the night turned to early morning, Dean and Y/N found themselves inching closer together. Their shared confessions had forged a deep bond between them, one that neither wanted to let go of. And as the first light of dawn peeked through the window, Dean leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Y/N's lips. "So much for sleeping huh" y/n said as they broke away from each other, foreheads resting upon each other.

The kiss was soft and fleeting, but it spoke volumes of the emotions swirling between them. Dean pulled back, his heart hammering in his chest as he searched Y/N's eyes for any sign of regret. But all he saw was warmth and affection, mirrored in her gaze "took you long enough winchester" y/n said with a smirk on her face.

In that moment, Dean knew he had found something real and worth fighting for. And as he held Y/N close, he let go of his doubts and fears, embracing the possibility of a new beginning. Sam might have been the one to bring a girl back to the motel room, but tonight, it was Dean who found something truly special with Y/N.

Taglist:

@nescavaneckdaily @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @angelbabyyy99 @cheynovak @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33

[tojipie]

Toji comforting a sick reader (seasonal cold-ish?) he’s not very good at it,but you can tell he’s trying by making tea and stuff and being softer then he normally is.Idk I just need comforting Toji 😭

content: established relationship, airhead toji, fluff

toji’s definition of being sick was a little unorthodox, to put it mildly.

colds were just not a thing in zenin household, especially for the black sheep of the family. if you were “sick” that meant being you were dead or nearing death. not a sore throat and some congestion.

toji would have gotten a slap across the face for skipping out on a day's work because he had the sniffles, “the weak link” as his dad liked to put it.

being anything except the pinnacle of health was out of the question growing up, and with time, his association of what “being sick” was gravitated further and further away from what was normal.

so when you first come down with a cold, the poor guy doesn’t even clock it at first.

toji watches you emerge from your shared bedroom at an impressive 2 o’clock in the afternoon, eyes rimmed red with a throw blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“sleep good?” he asks, clearly amused. the pounding in your head nearly drowns out the question. not wearing a jacket in 30° weather for the sake of showing off your outfit last night was probably not the greatest idea.

you don’t entertain his teasing as you flip the electric kettle on, grabbing 2 tea bags from the overhead pantry. something to soothe your raging tonsils. toji cracks open a bottle of water for you, passing it over with a hum.

the sip of water you try to down does nothing to help your sore throat. an ugly, phlegmy cough wracks your chest without warning, sending you into a doubled-over position.

toji pats your back lovingly as air fights to re-enter your lungs. the force of the coughs rubs your throat even more raw, if that was even possible.

“shit, you okay?” he asks, still unaware as ever.

you unflatteringly blow your nose into a tissue before answering him, cringing at how dry your lips still feel.

“something like that,” you mumble. voice raw and crackly. “do you know where the thermometer is?”

toji looks around from his spot at the counter, scratching the back of his head.

“no, why? you overheated or something?”

you stand there dumbfounded for about a second before firing back. overheated? you felt like death itself.

“i have a cold you moron.”

his mouth slowly parts into an “oh” as the realization washes over him. feeling under the weather was probably a bigger deal to you than it was for someone raised in what was essentially a prison.

“oh, baby,” he mumbles, reaching toward you with outstretched arms. a firm palm rubs between the plains of your shoulder bones, warming you from the outside. “feeling under the weather huh?” he coos.

you nod, already dozing off in his warm embrace. a shrill beep from the electric kettle lets you know that your water is ready.

toji quickly puts a hand out, ushering behind him.

“go back to bed sweet girl i’ll make your tea.”

bonus thought: he has to remake the tea twice because he dips the bags into the still-boiling water and they explode every time

[woso-dreamzzz]

Nena V

Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader

Summary: You're sick

It started with a little cough.

Ingrid didn't really think anything of it. Sometimes, you just had a cough. It wasn't really a big thing which was why she was so happy to leave you in Mapi's company while she went to do some media things.

Only, the cough seemed to be getting worse.

It started out as a little tickle in the back of your throat at breakfast and then got more and more scratchy as time went on. Your head started to pound too and your arms felt all weird and heavy in a way that you had never really experienced before.

"Hey," Mapi said, shaking you lightly," Are you okay?"

You shook your head, eyes squeezing shut. "My throat don' like me, Mapi," You said, squeezing at your neck as if it would help.

You coughed again. Your eyebrows drew together after it took you a while to stop.

From just outside your field of vision, a hand moved until it was pressed against your forehead.

Your frown deepened as you darted your eyes to the side. The hand belonged to Irene. You looked at her.

She was frowning too. "Does it hurt to swallow, Nena?"

You nodded miserably.

"Say aah."

"Aah!"

Irene moved closer so she could look in your mouth, frown deepening for a moment before she drew away and nodded.

"You've got a case of tonsillitis there, Nena."

You don't know that word but you nodded because Irene is a mama and mamas know things like this.

"Tonsillitis?!" Mapi exclaimed, her voice going very squeaky," Shit! Is she going to die? Do we need to call an ambulance?!"

Irene rolled her eyes. "She just needs some medicine and for you to calm down. Once Ingrid's back, you can take her home. It's not that serious."

Mapi certainly looked like this was serious. "Does she need them removed?!"

Irene laughed. "Not right now. If it gets worse or keeps happening then yes, maybe, but what she needs now is medicine and some water. Calm down, Mapi."

Mapi took a deep breath before panic flashed on her face. "I don't have kid's medicine!"

"I do." Irene pulled a little bottle out of her bag and shook it. "I was meant to bring it home for Matteo but I'm sure he can share."

You dutifully took the medicine even though it tasted kind of yucky and drank the water Mapi put in front of you.

Breakfast was easy after that but there was separate training for the defenders so Mapi had to hand you off to someone else to watch.

Tia Alexia sat next to you when she took a break from her gym session.

You felt better than earlier but still a little bad.

Tia Alexia checked your temperature like how Irene did and you leaned into her cold hand. She laughed.

"Careful there, Nena," She said," Don't go falling asleep on me."

"'m not sleepin'," You slurred, forcing your eyes open and squinting at her.

"Sure you're not," Alexia said, pushing the hair out of your eyes," But I need those eyes of yours open. Can I check your throat?"

Everyone had been checking your throat now. Irene did it earlier. Mapi did it a lot before she trained. Even Marta and Caro had looked at it for some reason.

It was routine now so you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue.

Alexia looked inside for a moment, nodding a few times before getting you to drink from your water bottle. She checked your throat again afterwards before she went back to her weights.

She kept looking back at you though, as if to check you hadn't disappeared or anything.

Honestly, you don't think that you have the strength to just up and disappear. You were content to be miserable on the floor with your scratchy throat until your next babysitter came to get you.

You missed Ingrid. You wish she finished her job so she could come and get you. Last year when you had the flu, Ingrid flew all the way back home to make sure you were okay. Mama didn't like that because she thought it was making you co-dependent or something but Ingrid and you didn't care.

Ingrid made the best soup and she had medicine that tasted nice, not like the one that Irene gave you earlier.

"What with the grumpy face, Nena?" Lucy asked as she joined you, poking at your cheek. "Why aren't you smiling?"

"Ingrid's not here," You whined," And I'm sick."

"You're sick? How come?"

"I just am!" As if the punctuate your point, you flew into a big coughing fit.

Lucy looked very worried, flapping her hands about like Mapi did earlier and looking around the room as if someone would save her.

Tia Alexia came back and wedged the straw of your bottle back into your mouth as soon as you finished coughing.

"When is Ingrid done?" She asked as you drank your water," Nena really needs to go home. Some cuddles and a nap would do her wonders."

"She should be done soon," Lucy said," I don't think she knows yet. I can go and check."

"No," Alexia said," I'll send Patri and Pina. You've still got a gym session to get through."

"I can wait with her until Ingrid comes," Lucy insisted, looking down pointedly at you as you began to scratch at your throat again," Do we need to give her more medicine? She looks uncomfortable."

Alexia looked at her watch. "We've still got another two hours before we can give her another dose."

You scratched harder at your throat and Lucy gently took your hand to bring it away. You whined a little, pulling out her grip. She was running warm. You didn't like that. You wish she were cold like Tia Alexia was.

Lucy was like a furnace as she sat next to you and you edged as far away as possible. You tugged at your shirt and kept having to shift around because your clothes were sticking uncomfortably to your skin.

Your throat was getting very scratchy again and you whined.

"Ooh," A new voice said," That doesn't sound very good."

You whined again and raised your arms.

Ingrid picked you up instantly, checking your forehead with the back of her hand and looking down your throat like everyone else had done.

"Irene says there's somethin' wrong with my tonsils," You replied.

Ingrid smiled, pushing your head into her neck. "That's okay," She said," How about we go home? I'll make you some soup and we'll have some cuddles."

"With Bagheera?"

"Yes, with Bagheera."

"Is your Mapi coming?"

"Mapi can come too."

"And I get soup?"

Ingrid laughed. "Yes, you get soup."

"Okay."

[lassieposting]

So anyway I think it would be funny if Garrus kept getting a bit distracted during his extensive research into human biology

Like obviously he reads the pamphlets (helpfully provided by Mordin) and watches the porn (gleefully provided by Joker) but he also does a bunch of his own extranet deep-diving because he's Like That, he's got Detective Brain, and he doesn't half-ass anything

But he knows the Normandy extranet hub is not private: Cerberus is probably spying on all of them, EDI has unrestricted systems access and a tendency to share anything she finds interesting with Joker, Legion can hack into anything, Tali likes to gossip. So, to a) avoid putting Shepard in an awkward position with the Illusive Man and b) keep his sex life private, he uses vague search terms. Human biology. Human organs. Evolution of humanity. Human reproductive cycle. Interesting facts about humans. Interspecies workplace communication.

And then he gets sidetracked. 50 Weird Facts About Humans leads him to 10 Reasons Humans Are Scary which leads him to an article about humans as persistence predators. An Overview Of Human Body Parts leads him to 5 Body Parts Humans Don't Actually Need which leads him to articles on wisdom teeth and tonsils and the appendix, which can apparently explode at random. He gets clickbaited.

And now he has all this new knowledge he finds fascinating and wants to share! So he starts doing things like telling Kelly how many bones she has, or explaining Why Humans Evolved Eyelashes at the dinner table and then asking Jack why she evolved eye hairs, but not head hairs. Or asking Jacob how tall he is, and then thoughtfully musing about how that's short for his species.

And, in Shepard's cabin, when he nervously mentions having done some research, she slinks over to get all up in his personal space in her bathtowel and asks him what he learned. At which point he panics, all the sexy one liners about sensitive spots evacuate his brain immediately, and he blurts out that according to the extranet, the anus is the first part of an infant human to develop in the womb, so, you know, when Saren said humans were a bunch of assholes he was not technically wrong

(Shepard looks at him for a minute. Like, a really long minute. Just blinking. He's fairly sure he's about to be booted into the elevator and she'll keep the wine, to get over this disastrous encounter. And then she explodes with laughter, tells him he's ridiculous, and shuts him up by kissing him, because at least someone here has her head in the game)

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 1 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 8,390 words (I am so sorry for how long the first chapter is).

Chapters: Current chapter, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

         “Can you say ‘aaaaaah?’” (Y/N) drawled out.

        Her patient, little eight-year-old Lou, opened his mouth widely like a lion and ‘aaaaaah’ed for her as she shined her mediscope light down into his throat, checking his tonsils, uvula, throat's lining, gums, and tongue.

        “Mmm, I see. You can close your mouth now. Good job, Lou!” she cheered as the kid beamed. “He has enlarged tonsils. Do you hear him snore at night?” she questioned, turning her attention to the concerned mother.

        “He snores so loud he’s woken us up from across the house.” His mother sighed. “Is that bad?”

        “Does he have problems focusing in school because he’s tired. Taking naps that are over an hour multiple times a week?” (Y/N) asked.

        “Yes. His teacher complained just last week about him sleeping in class during a spelling test.” Lou's mother confirmed.

        “I see. Lou, do you have any problems sleeping? Like do you wake up multiple times a night?” (Y/N) questioned, looking over towards the small boy.

        “Maybe once or twice a night…” Lou muttered as he thought to himself.

        “And does your throat hurt when you wake up?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Sometimes.” He responded.

        “How often do you get sick?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Honestly, we’ve lost count. This past year he’s been sick at least three times.” His mother admitted.

        “And it’s June. I see.” (Y/N) nodded, grabbing her clipboard of papers and a pen. “Lou is experiencing obstructive sleep apnea due to his enlarged tonsils affecting his sleep, which is affecting his daytime behavior and is the cause of why he gets sick so often. I do recommend surgery to remove them. I’ll write down some children hospitals near your area that specialize in pediatric surgery, that way we can get the right surgeon for the job.” She explained, writing down hospitals, where they’re located, and doctor names specializing in tonsil-study.

        “Does this all sound about right, Doctor Ryan?” she questioned, turning her attention to the corner of the room where the doctor and her instructor stood, observing her performance. 

        “Absolutely phenomenal. You got everything right.” He praised, giving her a teethy smile that belonged on a Colgate commercial while a bubble of pride formed in her chest at his praise.

        “Oh thank you, Ms (L/N)!” Lou’s mother smiled as she clutched her hands together.

        “No worries. Here you go.” (Y/N) spoke, handing Lou's mother the papers. “Check out will be on your right when you walk out. There will be some ring pops too, go get yourself a reward for behaving so good today, Lou.” (Y/N) smiled as she rummaged through her cabinet for a sticker.

        She found one and handed it to Lou's open hand. 

        “You were my star patient today, bud! I’ll see you in a few weeks for your next check-up.” (Y/N) smiled.

        “Thank you again.” Lou’s mother smiled as she held Lou’s hand. "What do we say, Lou?"

        “Thank you! Bye bye!” Lou cheered.

        “Fantastic work today. We have one more patient before you can head out, okay?” Doctor Ryan spoke.

        “Yes, sir!” (Y/N) smiled, excited of who she'd be working with next.

        She loved kids and she loved helping them. It made her happy to be able to care for them and help them on their recovery to healthiness and happiness, hence why she's studying to become a pediatrician.

        “They’re a bit on the older side, but we’re really short-staffed at the moment so I need you to take care of them.” Doctor Ryan explained.

        “How old?” she questioned, noticing they were leaving the hospital’s pediatric branch and going to the elevators.

        They both entered the elevator and Doctor Ryan pressed the 4th floor button. The doors closed as (Y/N) held the handle, feeling a little nauseous at being in a closed space with a man. She doesn't mind Doctor Ryan, but she doesn't like being trapped in uncomfortable proximity with a male—just a fear that was installed into her when she was young. Th elevator moved up two floors before the ride finally ended.

        “Well… they’re twenty-two.” The doctor sheepishly smiled.

        “Sir, I’m training to be a pediatrician, not a regular nurse.” (Y/N) stated firmly as the elevator doors opened, allowing them to walk out into the psychiatric branch of the hospital (must to her relief). 

        “Yes, but like I said, we’re short staffed. We just need to you re-evaluate his wounds and do a check-up on his physical health. He’s on suicide watch.” Doctor Ryan explained.

        She opened her mouth to complain before hearing his last words.

        Damn it, suicide watch? I don’t want them dying on my watch. Not only that, but I have experience in that field so I’m decent help for it. She thought. 

        “I… Yes, sir. I’ll get him checked out.” (Y/N) sighed, caving in.

        "Thank you! You know it's been with the shortages of nurses and all, especially for the psychiatric branch." Doctor Ryan sighed out, in relief rather than reluctant-acceptance that (Y/N) did.

        "I understand..." She sighed again.

        Yes, I understand that the psychiatric branch is full of unstable patients with crazy-strength if set off. How do they expect me to hold up on my own against a fight with these guys? (Y/N) thought to herself.

        They walked to the branch's help desk, scurrying through papers before Doctor Ryan made a noise of acknowledgment.

        "Ah-ha! Here you go." He smiled, giving the paper packet to (Y/N).

        (Y/N) grabbed a chair with wheels and moved it behind her, sitting down and reading the information. 

        "Like I said, just quickly re-evaluate his wounds and do a check up on his physical health. If he has any information on why he tried to commit suicide, write it down. It can help us with finding a therapist or at least a hotline for him. I'll go and write a report for Lou's visit, get that off your plate." Doctor Ryan explained, turning and walking away. "It's sad how young these kids are when they think all hope is lost..." he sighed.

        Twenty-two? That's a pretty normal age for suicide. Try eleven, Doc. (Y/N) thought sarcastically. Well, no time to mope about. Let's get this over with and hope for the best. (Y/N) thought, dreading the interaction.

        She wanted to be a pediatrician not only because she liked kids, but because they were much easier than adults. Adults live in a world where they're made to believe their pain is insignificant because elders and children are much more vulnerable to pain and suffering, so adults constantly fight their pain and hide it from others. Adults hide their pain to avoid pity, to avoid the expensive medical bill they don't want to pay. (Y/N)'s morals may be questionable, but if there's anything she believes as a nurse and upcoming-pediatrician, it's that you can't put a price on life. Kids have no shame telling someone if they're in pain, adults act as if they're dishonoring their family's reputation and pride if they tell someone they have a cough.

        Not only that, but she doesn't want to work with adult men. It's been proven that some perverted adult men cause injuries to themselves so they can be in the care of gentle women, who they take overpower and advantage of. Of course, women can do the exact same thing too, but it's more prevalent with males. (Y/N) hates working with adults because she doesn't want to be apart of their sexual fetishes or apart of the statistics.

        (Y/N) read through her patient's information, gathering the details she needs to access the situation:

Patient: Andrew Graves, 22. Room 402. Reason for admission: Jumped from a third-story building and ended up landing on his legs. By miracle, no injury to spine other than minor bruises. Both legs and ankles are shattered, needs multiple surgeries. Stitches on ankles, change bandages every 4-8 hours. Minor concussion and possible amnesia.  Precautions: Patient isn't very cooperative. Use restraints if necessary. Has a sister that is extremely uncooperative and violent, has threatened other nurses. Use extreme caution with patient and sister to prevent any pain or stress that would worsen patient's condition. 

        (Y/N) put the paper packet down on the desk and sighed, shoving her hands into her face and groaning.

        Of course! Not only an unruly patient, but an unruly visitor too? God, if you're real, is this your way of telling me it was a mistake being a pediatrician? (Y/N) thought to herself. Let's just get this damn thing over with, after this, I can go home and rest.

        She walked to a medical supply closet in the staff room and took some bandages and anti-septic cream, along with checking to make sure her stethoscope and mediscope was all there. She grabbed two water bottles from the mini fridge and shoved it into her bag along with two mini-bags of pretzels from the snack cabinet. 

        She shut the staff room's door and locked it, shoving her key and lanyard under her lilac purple nursing scrubs in case some pocket-picker (or someone stupid enough) tries to steal her key. She made sure her bag's strap was secure against her firmly and walked towards room 402.

        (Y/N) stopped at the patient's door to collect her breath. She heard voices inside, only dreading the next few minutes once she realized how angry the voices sounded.

        "Damn it, Andrew! You just had to fuck shit up like you do with everything else, huh?" a girl's voice rang through the room.

        "Isn't this what you wanted? You make no sense..." a boy's voice, Andrew perhaps, sighed.

        "I didn't expect you to take me seriously, dumbass! What if you actually died? You'd leave me all alone to deal with the shit you caused!" the girl shouted.

        "Keep your voice down! And the shit I caused? You're the one that started it all! If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be on the run!" Andrew hissed.

        "Oh, so eating the neighbor was my decision? Is that what you're saying! No, you're the one that fucking said it!" the girl exclaimed.

        "You implied it!" Andrew retorted.

        "I did nothing! But even then, we would've starved in that damn apartment! Is that what you wanted? And you're the one that killed the warden, then the damn lady!" the girl claimed.

        "Hey, the lady was self-defense and you're the one that made me kill the hitman! I killed the warden because you got caught! We would've both been fucked at that point!" Andrew reasoned.

        "WE ARE FUCKED!" the girl screamed.

        "Ashley! Calm down!" Andrew spoke, raising his tone.

        "ME CALM DOWN? HOW CAN I BE CALM AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!" the girl, Ashley screamed, sounding crazy enough to potentially be pulling her hair out.

        "Well you're going to have to! Someone might discover we're on the run!" Andrew hissed through his teeth.        

        "Don't you realize, stupid?! If you died, you would've left me all alone in this shitty world. I can't live without you, Andy..." Ashley muttered.

        "My name isn't Andy, Andy is dead. It's Andrew." Andrew stated firmly.

        "Fuck you, Andrew! I hate Andrew! I want Andy back! At least Andy still liked me!" Ashley shouted, her tone sounded like she was close to breaking down in tears.

        "Ashley, come on... We've gone over this. I like you." Andrew sighed.

        "Yeah right! You tried sleeping with that lady at the apartment complex!" Ashley accused.

        "Damn it, Ashley! I already told you, she tried to kill me so I killed her! What part of that involves sex?" Andrew hissed.

        "I don't want to hear it, you bastard! The second you get a girlfriend, I become invisible to you!" Ashley complained.

        "As if! I was always ditching Julia for you! Even then, you fucking convinced her into breaking up with me!" Andrew huffed.

        "I was weeding out the whores that sprout their legs open! She doesn't deserve someone like you, Andy!" Ashley shouted, then took a deep breath. "I'm your sister, Andy. I know what's best for you! I know who's best for you! She wasn't shit!"

         "You're stressing me out, Ashley..." Andrew groaned, his voice muffled (presumably shoving his face into his hands). "I don't want to talk about this... I don't even know how we got on this topic but just shut up about it... We'll leave as soon as I heal up some." 

        "That'll take too long. We can leave now!" Ashley whined.

        "And what? You want me to run on two broken legs? Are you going to carry me?" Andrew spoke, verbally knocking some sense into her. 

        "I-I'll find a damn wheelchair! We'll put you on a wheelchair and run." Ashley spoke, suddenly not sounding as confident and aggressive as she was previously. 

        "Run where? There's no where we can go! Mom doesn't want us and we can't just live on the streets forever. This is a good opportunity for us to rest here and think about our next move." Andrew explained.

        "Says you. You get a nice bed and food provided to you while I'll be stuck outside, cold and alone while I rot away outside." Ashley snapped, exaggerating her voice on the last bit.

        "I'm sure you'll figure something out. You have a way with getting what you want." Andrew huffed.

        "Not all the time..." Ashley muttered. "I still think we should take a wheelchair and-"

        "Leave, Ashley. Visiting time is over." Andrew spoke firmly.

        "But-" Ashley started, but was cut off.

        "No buts, Ashley. Leave... You're just making me feel worse..." Andrew sighed in frustration.

        Good, stand your ground against her. I don't know their full story, but Ashley sounds really manipulative to me, but Andrew definitely doesn't sound like a victim either... (Y/N) thought to herself. 

        "Fine, I'll leave and I'll never come back! You can't live without me, Andy!" Ashley shouted before walking towards the door.

        Sounds like a threat... (Y/N) thought. 

        Damn it, she's infuriating. As expected of her though... Andrew thought to himself.

        (Y/N) realized that Ashley was coming her way. She didn't want to seem nosey so she quickly ran to an open hospital room, making sure to redirect her weight to her legs so her footsteps wouldn't make noise in case it alerted Ashley. She heard Andrew's door open before slamming close, then footsteps walking past the room (Y/N) was in.

        (Y/N) held close to the wall where the door was, hiding herself in case Ashley peeked into the room on her way out. (Y/N) waited a minute after the footsteps vanished, just to be sure that Ashley wasn't on her way back. She walked back to the door before stopping, realizing what the siblings revealed to her.

        They're murderers. Not only that, but cannibals too. They both confessed. I have to be careful about this guy, two broken legs or none, he's dangerous. (Y/N) thought to herself, then held her fist up to the door.

        She gently knocked three times, then opened the door, not caring for a response back. She saw Andrew staring out of the hospital's window (one without bars, (Y/N) believes that's a stupid decision since this is a known suicidal branch on the fourth floor). His reflection showed his eyes closed, his eyebrows pinched in frustration.

        "I said leave, Ash—" Andrew's head turned to look at the nurse and his eyes only hardened, as if seeming more mad at the nurse than at Ashley who ran off.

        Watch it, buddy. I can make your death look like an accident... (Y/N) thought inside of her head, only proving her dislike of caring for adults.

        "Expecting someone else?" (Y/N) spoke, forcing a polite smile on her face. 

        I'd rather not have to try and fight him into restraining him against the bed. She thought. 

        Andrew stayed quiet as he glared at her.

        The previous nurses that entered his room weren't very kind to him, they were old and seemed annoyed to care for their patients. They got an earful from Ashley. Not only that, but they sure were rough with re-doing his bandages, sloppy too. He didn't want to deal with anyone else today, he just wants to go to sleep.

        Maybe a permanent sleep like jumping out of this window... At least I wouldn't hear Ashley complain so much. Andrew thought to himself.

        To be honest, Andrew doesn't exactly remember much. For some reason, he only has memory of the past three months and that's it. All of his memories consisted of being locked in an apartment with little food, to no food, for three months with Ashley, rotting away. Then Ashley had the bright idea to eat the neighbor after breaking into his apartment and seeing him fail a seance to a... demon? As crazy as that sounds.

        Well, she didn't exactly say it, but she placed the thought into Andrew's head then forced Andrew to say it to make it seem like it was his idea. Then she started chopping the neighbor up to eat him, then the warden came and Ashley got caught, which resorted in Andrew having to kill the warden so the warden wouldn't contact any other wardens with his walkie-talkie. Ashley had the bright idea to escape the apartment complex by completing the seance and offering live human. Andrew eventually agreed to it.

        Then they ran from the place and ended up in a lady's apartment. Turns out she whored herself to get food from the wardens, so they used her to escape. While Ashley left to do the seance, Andrew had to hold her hostage so she wouldn't try to call for help from the wardens. He made the mistake of taking his clever away from her neck and letting go of her, but she got ballsy and tried to kill him with a nail gun, resulting in Andrew killing her. Then Ashley came back and started to freak out, saying that Andrew was trying to get in the girls pants (however she came up with that conclusion, Andrew is unsure). 

        They completed the seance by sacrificing a warden and escaped the apartment complex, finding themselves on the run as wanted felons. It was then when Ashley and Andrew got in a fight and Ashley told Andrew to kill himself, to make it easy for her and the police. Andrew was fed up of running and listening to his sister's idiotic (and borderline psychotic) ideas that he actually did jump (to which Ashley brought him here instead of just letting him bleed out, much to his dismay). 

        But before all of those events, everything else is blurry. He has no recollection of himself or his family after all the horrid memories trapped in his head.

        (Y/N) felt a little unsettled under his very judgmental gaze, remembering that he confessed to killing at least two people (possibly even more).

        Is he sizing me up to be his next victim? (Y/N) briefly thought before pushing that thought away. No, he said that they would've starved in their... apartment? What did they mean by that? 

        As much as she wanted to find out, she didn't really feel like wanting to die either. Her college debt would go to her family, and it'd be too bothersome to die. Too much time wasting on dying (she'd be too impatient to die slowly). 

        “I’m a student studying nursing, please call me (Y/N) despite the name tag.” (Y/N) smiled. 

        I'd rather not tell him I'm studying pediatric nursing. I don't want him freaking out or anything since I'm technically out of my field. She thought.

        “They couldn’t bring a real nurse or doctor?” Andrew huffed.

        Great, if she makes any mistakes, he might have to stay here longer than necessary, and Andrew does not want that.

        “Unfortunately, we’re short-staffed at the moment. No one here likes working the night shift.” (Y/N) sighed. “But, luckily for you, I happen to be a very good student. I even dare to say better than some of the other nurses here.” (Y/N) joked, a smile on her face to try and brighten up the murderous aura surrounding Andrew.

        Andrew stared at her in silence, unamused.

        “Tough crowd…” She muttered. “Alright, let’s get this over with first.” (Y/N) spoke, walking closer to Andrew (whose guard only raised even more at this). “How many fingers am I holding up?” she questioned, holding up two fingers.

        “Four.” Andrew huffed, crossing his arms.

        “And now?” she questioned, holding up one.

        “Two.” Andrew answered.

        “Last time.” She commented, holding up two fingers again.

        “Four.” Andrew spoke.

        “Okay, are you thirsty right now?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “I guess…” Andrew muttered.

        “Here.” (Y/N) spoke, digging into her medical bag and grabbing the bottle of water she shoved in there from earlier. “Hungry too?”

        “No.” Andrew answered, resulting in her placing a bag of pretzels and water on his nightstand.

        “They're for later. It’s important not to have them now even though you’re thirsty. Just trust me.” She spoke before continuing her little survey. “Feel any pain anywhere?”

        “My legs.” Andrew spoke, pointing out the obvious in a ‘duh’ tone.

        “Other than there?” (Y/N) added. “Such as a headache? Behind the eyes?” 

        “Both.” Andrew answered.

        “Have you vomited? Do you feel nauseous at the moment?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Haven’t thrown up, but I feel sick” Andrew admitted.        

        “Have you or your sister noticed any gaps in your memory? From today to a few months or even more?” (Y/N) asked.

        “Yeah, actually…” Andrew muttered.

        (Y/N) took a few steps towards him, basically hovering over him.

        “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, but didn’t pull away or shrink from her.

        “Calm down. Are your hands clammy?” she questioned.

        “A little...” Andrew muttered, not breaking eye contact from her.

        She broke the eye contact as her eyes swept through his face, looking at his disheveled black hair and electric green eyes, a beautiful combination, she noted. She also noted how pale his skin was along with the sweat running down it.

        “Andrew, open your eyes wide for me, please.” She spoke, reaching into her bag and pulling out a mediscope.

        Andrew complied with a little bit of hesitancy, allowing her to watch as his pupils shrunk from the light. She looked closely at his retinas to make sure there was no tear along with the hydration in his eyes. They did seem a little blurry, she noted.

        “Open your mouth, please.” She requested.

        Andrew sighed but listened as she did. She checked his tonsils, throat lining, tongue coloring, gums, and uvula. 

        He felt awkward having her do all these procedures and asking all these questions, whether it was her job or not. He wouldn’t deny it, she was pretty, prettier the woman at the apartment complex he murdered.

        Wow, nice thinking… Andrew internally scolded himself as he looked away from the girl. Comparing your nurse to a dead girl you killed really isn't a sign of insanity or detachment.

        At least he was self-aware?

        “And real quick, let me look inside your ears, please.” She requested.

        Andrew stood still as she shined the light in his ear, checking through the tiny camera to see if there was any ear infection or something out of the ordinary. Nothing.

        “Last thing.” She spoke, placing her mediscope in her bag and switching it for her stethoscope. 

        “Can I ask why you’re doing this? All these questions and procedures?” Andrew questioned, adverting his eyes from her as she started listening to his heart.

        There was a moment of silence as she focused, looking at her watch as she listened to his pulse.

        It's 102 beats per minute, a bit quick for his age, but it's not too worrying and it can be easily caused by the stress and trauma of his situation, she noted. 

        “Are you telling me the other nurses didn’t do all of this to you?” (Y/N) asked as she responded his question from earlier surprised and a little concerned.

        “Nope.” Andrew replied lazily. 

        “Ugh… elders.” (Y/N) muttered quietly, earning a small smile from Andrew (one he quickly hid with a cough as he adverted her gaze). “They’re supposed to check you for any possible illnesses or worsen conditions. I know you came in here because you jumped a three-story building, but it can be linked to serious health concerns. You can develop future problems we can identify and fix right now if we take the time to look.” She explained.

        “So what did you discover, doc?” Andrew questioned in a monochrome tone (she wasn’t exactly sure if he was making a joke or being serious or even sarcastic).

        “Well, you have internal bleeding.” (Y/N) spoke, not bothering to even try to sugarcoat it or break it to him lightly.

        “What? How bad?” Andrew grimaced, afraid of the reaction Ashley would give when she hears this. 

        “How much blood did you lose when you fell? Were you conscious when you hit the ground?” (Y/N) questioned. 

        “I mean, I was conscious till I hit the ground. After a couple of minutes I woke up and was in pain, understandably so, until my sister dragged me to a hospital. So I was probably out for five maybe ten minutes.” Andrew explained. 

        That’s not good, along with all the other symptoms he’s experiencing. She thought to herself.

        “How about this. On a scale of 1-10, how much blood did you think you lost?” (Y/N) rephrased.

        “Seven, maybe eight.” Andrew huffed. “I don’t really know.” 

        “No worries. It’s not a big deal. They said you shattered the bones in your legs so you’re going to need surgery for it. Luckily they were able to reposition and place back your ankles.” I explained. “You’ll be bedridden in the hospital for a couple days, then you're going home and being bedridden for six months, minimum.” (Y/N) emphasized the last word to show the most importance to it. 

        “Fuck... What about the internal bleeding?” Andrew sighed, dreading the lecture Ashley would give him.

        "For your severity, you'd need surgery. It'd take a couple weeks for you to heal, but your internal bleeding should be healed by the time you're discharged." (Y/N) explained. “Now, bear with me for a second. I’m going to level your legs and it’s going to hurt.” She spoke as she walked to the tall hospital cabinets, taking three soft and limbless pillows from it.

        “Ugh…” Andrew groaned, already dreading that part as she walked back to him.

        “Take a deep breath.” She instructed.

        She waited for Andrew to audibly breathe in. He did what she requested, his chest and shoulders rising (he ignored the shock of pain that came with it, but she noticed and figured it was due to the internal bleeding).

        “Hold it in.” She spoke, then lifted his heavily bandaged legs with one hand (with a bit of struggle) and placed the pillows under him.

        She gently rested his legs onto the pillows and looked at Andrew face, seeing his eyebrows furrowed and his fists clenches tightly.

        “Breathe, darling. You’re all done.” (Y/N) instructed, letting out a deep breath for him to mimic too in case the pain was too much.

        Andrew let go of his breath, regaining control of his lungs after a few manual breaths. 

        “You did so well, my star! Do you want a sticker?” (Y/N) questioned.

        Andrew adverted his eyes from her smile, his face red from what he wants to be because of holding his breath, but it was instead caused by her praise and pet names (or maybe both).

        “No…?” Andrew muttered.

        “Mm. What color do you want? Gold, pink, blue, red, purple, or gray?” she questioned.

        “Why do you have a gray star?” he questioned.

        “Good choice!” (Y/N) spoke, rummaging through her bag for her stickers. 

        She found them and searched for a gray star, finding one and undoing the paper back. She sticked it on Andrew’s chest, clothed with the blue hospital gown. 

        “Tah-dah! You were my star patient today!” (Y/N) beamed. 

        “Are you done?” Andrew sighed dully, adverting his eyes to hide his blush.

        “Nope! I have to redo your bandages. This’ll also hurt, but I’ll be gentle with you.” (Y/N) explained.

        “Hurry up.” Andrew huffed. 

        “So soon to have me leave, huh?” she sighed jokingly. “Hurts my heart.” 

        She reached into her bag and grabbed bandages, gauze, and anti-septic cream. 

        “So, Andrew. Kinda curious, what made you jump?” (Y/N) questioned, remembering her superior's words as she started undoing Andrew’s bandages on his legs.

        “Why would you need to know that?” Andrew growled, becoming defensive.

        Ah, I pissed him off. But this is important information for his health, murderer or not. (Y/N) thought to herself.

        “You know, I tried killing myself too. I was eleven. Failed multiple times. But you had the courage to jump. I didn’t do that.” She explained.

        “How’d you try?” Andrew questioned, a spark of curiosity in him.

        “I’m not giving you any ideas, mister.” (Y/N) laughed, giving him a playful yet stern expression before switching her gaze to study the stitching on his ankles. “But, I gave up and made an oath to never harm myself in that way again because it really affects the people you care about. Your sister was probably very sad when you jumped.” 

        At least the surgeons did that good, so no worries there. Luckily the swelling is just from the breakage and replacement of bones, so his stitches aren’t infected. She thought to herself. But let’s add anti-septic cream just to be safe.

        "How long ago was that?" Andrew questioned, ignoring her comment about his sister.

        "Ten years ago." She hummed.

        She must be around the same age as me. Andrew thought.

        “Did it get better?” Andrew questioned as (Y/N) applied the cold cream onto his wounds.

        The temperature of the medicine barely even got a reaction from Andrew since he was so focused on the conversation they were having. 

        “At the beginning? Of course not, in fact it spiraled downhill from there. Overtime I started picking myself up and it helped. It helps to surround yourself with people who cared about you. And if you have no one who cares, then learn to care for yourself. Your confidence in yourself will attract others to you.” (Y/N) explained. "We humans need to be there for each other, you know? We're social creatures after all."

        “Hm.” Andrew hummed in acknowledgement, not really paying attention to her optimistic speech.        

        It's not like he had anyone to turn to. He remembers his girlfriend breaking up with him on the phone while he was rotting away in his apartment. Ashley had verbally abused her enough that she didn't want to see him or Ashley anymore. He doesn't have any other family than his parents who rejected him because "he and Ashley were too close and had to learn independence" his mother said on the phone during their last phone calls in quarantine. He's not exactly sure what she meant by it (especially with his memory gone), but so far all Ashley's done is pissed him off these past months he's remembered, so he really doesn't want to see her again anytime soon. He doesn't remember if he has friends or not either.

        “Andrew, what do you like to do? What do you do in your free time?” (Y/N) questioned.

        Andrew thought about her question. The three months that he remembers, all he did was sleep, starve, and watch TV (all with Ashley). He read books from his parents room out of boredom before losing the energy to even try and keep acting like he was actually remembering the plot—it took too much energy remembering the events that happened in the book. 

        When Ashley and Andrew did talk to each other during the time, it was to bicker and complain to each other about food and the other’s company (Ashley always started it).

        “I don’t have any… None that I remember at least.” Andrew admitted.

        “Don’t stress it. Your concussion could be affecting your ability to remember. We’ll find some new hobbies for you.” (Y/N) reassured. “Maybe books, card games, video games? I’ll find something.” She spoke as she redid the bandages on his ankles.

        “Why are you even bothering?” Andrew sighed. “After some months I’ll be gone.” He pointed out.

        “Yeah, but I wouldn’t want you to be bored the entire time. Personally, I would hate being bedridden with nothing to do.” (Y/N) admitted.

        What a sympathetic girl... Andrew thought.

        “Whatever…” Andrew muttered, crossing his arms. 

        “Voilà! Whaddya think?” she questioned.

        “It’s tight…” Andrew admitted, it didn't hurt much, but it did feel a bit annoying.

        “That’s to keep your ankles in place. Your bandages aren’t bleeding much, so you should be ready for casting. I’ll leave a note for that.” She explained. “Any requests before I go?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “You’re leaving?” Andrew questioned, sitting up and straightening his back before cringing at the pain shooting up his legs (and the pathetic tone in his voice).

        “Yeah, my shifts almost over...” She paused and checked her watch. “It’s actually been over for 20 minutes now.” 

        Andrew muttered something under his breath, adverting his eyes as he looked away from her.

        “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?” Andrew questioned.

        “Ah… I don’t know. I don’t work in this branch, I work with kids in the pediatric branch.” (Y/N) smiled nervously.

        I hope I’m not upsetting him. She thought to herself.

        She tolerated Andrew’s company, for a man of course. It was surprisingly refreshing and the atmosphere is much more comfortable than it was when she first entered.

        Andrew huffed, looking back at her.

        “I like you better than the other nurses.” He admitted, crossing his arms and looking away again so she wouldn’t notice his red face.

        “Aw. I’m sure you’ll enjoy Penelope tomorrow, she’s a wonderful nurse!” (Y/N) smiled. “I’ll make sure to visit you tomorrow before I leave work and check in on you, make sure you’re still intact and dandy, okay?” she smiled.

        It’s like I’m making a promise to a child. She thought to herself. 

        Her thoughts were backed up by the spark in his eyes as he looked back at the nurse.

        “Okay…” he muttered, pushing down the urge to smile.

        “I’ll see you later, star!” she smiled, referring to his sticker on his chest. “Door open or closed?” she questioned.

        “Closed.” Andrew answered.

        “Alrighty! Click the button on the side of your bed if you need a nurse or need to ask something. In an hour you can drink a little bit of the water, but hold off on the pretzels until tomorrow. Make sure you get good sleep! Body’s natural way of healing.” She explained, flashing him a smile. “Goodnight, Andrew.” 

        She closed the door and took a silent breath in.

        That went surprisingly well… She thought to herself.

        She walked back to the staff room and unlocked the door, opening it to find Ruby, an old and stern nurse who worked day shift.

        “You’re clocking out late.” Ruby gruffed. “Heard they were understaffed tonight.”

        “Ah, yes. I had to go to patient 402’s room.” She smiled politely despite it being very draining to.

        It's hard acting so happy all the time with her patients and coworkers. She liked work, but her face wasn't friendly, so she had to resort to smiling a lot (as annoying as it was for her).

        “The moody patient with the psycho sister? How’d that go?” Ruby questioned.

        “How did you know?” (Y/N) questioned, sparing her a glance.

        Ruby’s day shift, so she comes in at 7 am and leaves at 7 PM. How would she knows about Andrew? she thought to herself.

        “Penelope was in near tears when she clocked out. Told me how closed off the boy was and the sister was screaming and yelling at Penelope, talking about how she’s trying to steal her brother away from her—something like that…” Ruby muttered the last part to herself.

        Psycho sister indeed. (Y/N) thought to herself.

        “The girl wasn’t in there when I entered. The boy is reserved at first, but if you keep talking to him he’ll respond. Just be patient.” She spoke, shoving her leftover medical supplies into the supply closet.

        “I swear, Penelope gets too butt-hurt about these patients. And I don’t understand how you can deal with those kids, snotty and crying all the time.” Ruby complained as (Y/N) snagged a computer seat and sat down, typing up her report on Andrew Graves condition.

        “The kids are just scared. Give them a lollipop and it’s like Christmas.” She laughed, straining a smile. “Good talk rubes, but I’m going to head out.”

        “See you tomorrow.” Ruby responded lazily.

        “See ya. Good luck on your shift.” (Y/N) spoke.

        She walked out of the staff room and locked the door behind her, taking the elevator to the first floor. She exited the elevator and walked out of the hospital lobby, walking to the staff parking lot to her car. She grabbed her keys from her scrubs pockets and unlocked her car, opening the door and buckling her seatbelt before driving off.

        The drive is longer than she likes from her apartment but at least her thoughts plagued her so she didn’t have to be bored.

        A murderer and a cannibal? Not one but two! Should I call the police? I mean, they must have reasons. They were locked in an apartment and resorted to eating their neighbor? Why would they be locked in an apartment? I’m sure if they went to the police they would’ve been understanding, I mean it was life or death and one dead is better than two. What am I thinking? I shouldn’t be thinking that at all, I’m a nurse. (Y/N) thought. 

        “Ugh…” She groaned. 

        She made it to her apartment and unlocked her door, opening it and closing it behind her, making sure it was locked before she walked into the kitchen.

        I don’t feel like cooking, I don’t have the time for it anyways. She thought, opening her freezer. 

        She grabbed a quick microwaveable meal and put it in the microwave, setting it at the box’s desired time before walking away and grabbing her computer.

        She checked her emails then started her medical essay for pneumonia and bronchitis. The microwave ringed and she grabbed her food and some drink, walking back her to computer and continuing her work while eating.

        She finished her dinner and the final touches of her essay before sending it her college professors at her university. She stood up and stretched, walking to the kitchen and cleaning her dirty dishes before going to her room and picking out a nightgown. She walked to her shower and undressed, washing her hair and allowing the water to relax her nerves and sore legs from standing all day.

        Check-ups tomorrow should be Rachael Gardener and Joseph Stall. I'll meet a new patient, Lily Wells, since she's switching healthcare. After that, it's walk-in's from there. I'll pay a visit to Andrew thirty minutes before my shift ends and check up on Hailey. (Y/N) thought in her head. 

        Andrew. He's sure a special case at the moment. Nurses are going to have to keep a watchful eye on him to ensure his condition doesn't worsen or cause any harm to himself or others. (Y/N) thought. Two broken open-fracture ankles and complete fractures in his legs. Just thinking of that pain makes me squirm. She cringed, stopping herself from washing her hair to shake the imaginary chills she created.

        Not to mention his internal bleeding from his brain, his concussion from his fall must've caused that. Luckily he doesn't have any other injuries otherwise I'm pretty sure he would've been dead. She thought as she stepped out of the shower, drying her hair and body.

        I should find some video games and books to keep him from being bored. I need to get some new books for Hailey to read too, my bookshelf is going dry for her. She thought as she started getting dressed. I'll also do a quick google search of Andrew and Ashley, get some information out of their situation (or at least the most of it).

        .

        .

        Andrew woke up and stared out of his window blankly, watching as people walked in and out of the hospital, some in wheelchairs and some in casts. In a while, that'll be him leaving this place.

        Or with the pace Ashley wants, tomorrow. Andrew thought, a frustrated huff escaping his mouth. 

        Who could blame him? He tries to kill himself and all of a sudden he lost basically all of his memory from when he was born to three months ago, that's almost twenty-two years of his life lost in just a flash!

        Ashley told me to jump too. I shouldn't have listened to her and her damn rants, it would've caused so much less trouble, but I was going insane listening to her. Andrew thought. 

        Andrew's been wishing a lot of things lately. He's been wishing he could remember everything about himself, wished he never drank that supposed contaminated water that got him locked in the apartment which got him here in the first place, and wished he could get up and walk out of here.

        Ashley visited him earlier. Something in him was happy to see his sister, but dread filled his stomach at seeing her walk into the room.

        "Thought you said you weren't ever coming back?" Andrew spoke, recalling what Ashley said yesterday.

        "I might've been a bit hasty... and inconsiderate" Ashley huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Andrew. "I found a hotel nearby. I'm staying there until you get better."

        "How will you pay for it?" Andrew questioned.

        "Easy! I'll just kill people and take their wallets!" Ashley beamed, getting an glare sent her way.

        "Don't do that, idiot. You'll get caught easily without me." Andrew sighed, already finding himself frustrated at their conversation so early in.

        "Well, I could stay here! I'll stay in the bathroom when the nurses are in the room. I can keep you company and sleep in the same bed as you as we used to." Ashley teased.

        "I have two broken legs, remember?" Andrew pointed out.

        "I'll be extra careful." Ashley smiled, as he looked at her unamused. "Hmph! Be that way!" Ashley huffed, giving attitude as she crossed her arms. "Was it lonely without me last night? Did you have any nightmares?" Ashley questioned, her tone teasing with a hint of suggestion.

        Nightmares? About what? Andrew thought. And what's with her damn tone?

        He paused as he thought about anything the past three months.

        "No. Why would I have any nightmares?" Andrew questioned

        "Did you hit your head when you fell?" Ashley teased harshly, poking his cheek roughly. "Your nightmares! About that girl we killed back then? What was her name?" 

        "I don't remember." Andrew admitted. "Wait, we killed someone else?!"

        "Wow, you must've actually hit your head hard." Ashley spoke, a little surprised.

        "A nurse said I had a concussion and internal bleeding, so my memory isn't sharp at the moment." Andrew explained, still worrying about who else he's killed in his past.

        "Ugh. That'll only slow us down..." Ashley sighed. "Would you like to know?"

        "Might as well." Andrew sighed.

        "You killed that girl when we were young! She had an asthma attack in a box and it was hilarious!" she cackled.        

        "That doesn't sound funny. She was a kid, wasn't she...?" Andrew murmured.

        That nurse, (Y/N), she works in the pediatric branch. I don't think she'd be happy if she heard that. Andrew thought to himself. Why am I caring about her all of a sudden? I think I really need my brain checked out... hopefully by her... 

        "She had it coming though! She liked you and she was trying to separate the two of us!" Ashley tried to justify, noticing his reaction.

        "Whatever you say, Ashley." Andrew sighed.

        "I don't like this... I miss you, Andy! We were really close! You didn't need a girlfriend because you had me by your side!" Ashley whined. "It's because of one of these slutty nurses, huh? They're just holes for you to stick your dick into! You don't need them like you need me! I'm all you need!" Ashley started shouting.

        Andrew's really starting to think their sibling-ship is bordering to relationship the way Ashley's been acting and saying. 

        Gross... Andrew thought.

        He remembers the downright suggestive comments Ashley spoke in the apartment (and just a few minutes ago), along with the overprotectiveness he's experienced at times with her. Even if, just a bit, if their relationship was that (incest-like), it hasn't gotten physical since he places money that they would've done something while trapped in that apartment for three months. Andrew let out a sigh of relief, glad their relationship hasn't escalated to that point. 

        So there's still a turning point to get out of that. Andrew thought to himself.

        It's simple really, separate from Ashley. 

        That's all he has to do, but with her co-dependency, it won't make it easy. Unless, all he does is reject Ashley's advances towards stepping-up their relationship and trying to escape the hospital.

        "Andy, fucking listen to me!" Ashley shouted into his ear.

        Andrew was snapped out of his thoughts as the world around him spun. Ashley was holding his hair and shaking his head back and forth, creating a headache behind his head and eyes.

        "Ashley, let go! What part of concussion and internal bleeding didn't you understand?!" Andrew shouted, grabbing her hands as he fought them away from his hair.

        He succeeded in pulling her hands away, but she didn't want to let go without locks of hair in her fists.

        "I hate you, Andrew! I hate you! You and this stupid hospital and those stupid damn nurses! I hate it I hate it I HATE IT!" she screamed loudly.

        The hospital door opened and three nurses came in, their hair disheveled and bun's messy from racing down the hallway.

        "Ma'am, calm down. Otherwise I'm going to have to ask you to leave." One of the nurses spoke, their name tag reading Penelope.        

        "DON'T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, BITCH!" Ashley screamed at the poor woman, her finger jabbed into the nurse's chest. "I bet it's you! Yeah, you! You're the bitch manipulating my brother! I'll fucking kill you!"

        "Ashley!" Andrew sternly shouted, catching her attention long enough for the three nurses to tackle the girl.

        Ashley kicked and screamed as they got her, two nurses dragging her by her legs out of the room as the other nurse ran to go call security to escort her out (and keep her out).

        Andrew watched as all the women crowded out of his room, a little surprised.

        Well, she won't be coming back soon... that was surprisingly easy... Andrew thought to himself. Step one, separate Ashley from me. Complete.

        Ten minutes went by and someone stepped into his open-doored hospital room. It was Penelope, the nurse from earlier (and yesterday). 

        "M-Mr. Graves. Would you allow me to check--?" she was harshly cut off.

        "Get the hell out." Andrew growled, glaring at her with his vibrant green eyes.

        She nodded and quickly turned around, about to leave before he spoke up.

        "Wait." he spoke, effectively stopping the nervous girl as she turned around, fiddling with her hands. "When's that nurse coming back? (Y/N) (L/N)?" Andrew questioned.

        "(Y-Y/N)...? I don't know... She's not in our branch." Penelope muttered sheepishly.

        "Well, find out!" Andrew snarled. "I refuse to accept treatment from anyone else but her!"

        "Okay!" Penelope exclaimed all too quickly (glad to no longer be taking care of Andrew) and ran out of the room.

        He really meant it too. Any time a nurse tried to come into his room, he'd shout and throw anything nearby at them. It was a drastic change from yesterday's silence. Some nurses assumed he was scared as potential memories reappeared in his head, or perhaps he needed a higher dose of pain killers. They regretted entering the room after getting hit by pens and notebooks from the nightstands, he even threw his pillow.

        "I hate working in this damn branch! Where the hell is (Y/N)?" Ruby shouted in the employee's only room, the elder asking for her help from her inferior. 

The first chapter for this is done! This series will also be posted on AO3 and Wattpad! This series won the poll after a close tie, and I'm so glad it did because I was internally rooting for this to win! Don't worry, the other series' will be posted too after this one is completely posted for what I have so far.

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!

Chapters: Current chapter, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

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[eyeonyou]

KANAYA => SWOOP IN WITH YOUR CHARACTERISTIC AIR OF BELEAGURED YET DEBONAIR COMPETENCE AND RESCUE YOUR IDIOTIC CLOWN FRIEND FROM HIMSELF

Gamzee I Do Not Even Want To Know Why There Is A Shout Amplifier Halfway Down Your Throat

Frankly I Would Prefer To Forget Every Searing Detail Of This Grotesque Scene And In Particular The Colour Of Your Tonsils Which Is Not Information I Have Ever Once Yearned To Possess

That Being Said The Shouthusk Is Amplifying Your Gurgling Noises And None Of Us Need That So Unless You Can Choke To Death With Less Honking Clamor I Will Be Forced To Intervene

KANAYA => SIGH UPON REALISATION THAT YOU ARE THE ONLY TROLL CAPABLE OF MEDDLESOME FIRST AID PRAXIS

KANAYA => RELUCTANTLY CONSIGN YOUR POOR, BEAUTIFUL GLOVE TO EXCAVATION OF THE NON-EUCLIDEAN HORRORS OF A CLOWN'S SPASMING ESOPHAGUS AND CURSE THE GODS THAT BROUGHT YOU HERE