Jimmy: Well you know what happens? You come on The Tonight Show. And you perform Slow Hands on The Tonight Show. Everyone watching will call their DJ and call their radio stations and stream it and download it. And it will be the #1 song.
A nurse has heart attack and describes what she felt like when having one
I am an ER nurse and this is the best description of this event that I have ever heard.
FEMALE HEART ATTACKS
I was aware that female heart attacks are different, but this is description is so incredibly visceral that I feel like I have an entire new understanding of what it feels like to be living the symptoms on the inside. Women rarely have the same dramatic symptoms that men have… you know, the sudden stabbing pain in the chest, the cold sweat, grabbing the chest & dropping to the floor the we see in movies. Here is the story of one woman’s experience with a heart attack:
"I had a heart attack at about 10:30 PM with NO prior exertion, NO prior emotional trauma that one would suspect might have brought it on. I was sitting all snugly & warm on a cold evening, with my purring cat in my lap, reading an interesting story my friend had sent me, and actually thinking, ‘A-A-h, this is the life, all cozy and warm in my soft, cushy Lazy Boy with my feet propped up.
A moment later, I felt that awful sensation of indigestion, when you’ve been in a hurry and grabbed a bite of sandwich and washed it down with a dash of water, and that hurried bite seems to feel like you’ve swallowed a golf ball going down the esophagus in slow motion and it is most uncomfortable. You realize you shouldn’t have gulped it down so fast and needed to chew it more thoroughly and this time drink a glass of water to hasten its progress down to the stomach. This was my initial sensation–the only trouble was that I hadn’t taken a bite of anything since about 5:00 p.m.
After it seemed to subside, the next sensation was like little squeezing motions that seemed to be racing up my SPINE (hind-sight, it was probably my aorta spasms), gaining speed as they continued racing up and under my sternum (breast bone, where one presses rhythmically when administering CPR).
This fascinating process continued on into my throat and branched out into both jaws. 'AHA!! NOW I stopped puzzling about what was happening – we all have read and/or heard about pain in the jaws being one of the signals of an MI happening, haven’t we? I said aloud to myself and the cat, Dear God, I think I’m having a heart attack!
I lowered the foot rest dumping the cat from my lap, started to take a step and fell on the floor instead. I thought to myself, If this is a heart attack, I shouldn’t be walking into the next room where the phone is or anywhere else… but, on the other hand, if I don’t, nobody will know that I need help, and if I wait any longer I may not be able to get up in a moment.
I pulled myself up with the arms of the chair, walked slowly into the next room and dialed the Paramedics… I told her I thought I was having a heart attack due to the pressure building under the sternum and radiating into my jaws. I didn’t feel hysterical or afraid, just stating the facts. She said she was sending the Paramedics over immediately, asked if the front door was near to me, and if so, to un-bolt the door and then lie down on the floor where they could see me when they came in.
I unlocked the door and then laid down on the floor as instructed and lost consciousness, as I don’t remember the medics coming in, their examination, lifting me onto a gurney or getting me into their ambulance, or hearing the call they made to St. Jude ER on the way, but I did briefly awaken when we arrived and saw that the radiologist was already there in his surgical blues and cap, helping the medics pull my stretcher out of the ambulance. He was bending over me asking questions (probably something like 'Have you taken any medications?’) but I couldn’t make my mind interpret what he was saying, or form an answer, and nodded off again, not waking up until the Cardiologist and partner had already threaded the teeny angiogram balloon up my femoral artery into the aorta and into my heart where they installed 2 side by side stints to hold open my right coronary artery.
I know it sounds like all my thinking and actions at home must have taken at least 20-30 minutes before calling the paramedics, but actually it took perhaps 4-5 minutes before the call, and both the fire station and St Jude are only minutes away from my home, and my Cardiologist was already to go to the OR in his scrubs and get going on restarting my heart (which had stopped somewhere between my arrival and the procedure) and installing the stents.
Why have I written all of this to you with so much detail? Because I want all of you who are so important in my life to know what I learned first hand.
1. Be aware that something very different is happening in your body, not the usual men’s symptoms but inexplicable things happening (until my sternum and jaws got into the act). It is said that many more women than men die of their first (and last) MI because they didn’t know they were having one and commonly mistake it as indigestion, take some Maalox or other anti-heartburn preparation and go to bed, hoping they’ll feel better in the morning when they wake up… which doesn’t happen. My female friends, your symptoms might not be exactly like mine, so I advise you to call the Paramedics if ANYTHING is unpleasantly happening that you’ve not felt before. It is better to have a 'false alarm’ visitation than to risk your life guessing what it might be!
2. Note that I said 'Call the Paramedics.’ And if you can take an aspirin. Ladies, TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE!
Do NOT try to drive yourself to the ER - you are a hazard to others on the road.
Do NOT have your panicked husband who will be speeding and looking anxiously at what’s happening with you instead of the road.
Do NOT call your doctor – he doesn’t know where you live and if it’s at night you won’t reach him anyway, and if it’s daytime, his assistants (or answering service) will tell you to call the Paramedics. He doesn’t carry the equipment in his car that you need to be saved! The Paramedics do, principally OXYGEN that you need ASAP. Your Dr. will be notified later.
3. Don’t assume it couldn’t be a heart attack because you have a normal cholesterol count. Research has discovered that a cholesterol elevated reading is rarely the cause of an MI (unless it’s unbelievably high and/or accompanied by high blood pressure). MIs are usually caused by long-term stress and inflammation in the body, which dumps all sorts of deadly hormones into your system to sludge things up in there. Pain in the jaw can wake you from a sound sleep. Let’s be careful and be aware. The more we know the better chance we could survive to tell the tale.“
Reblog, repost, Facebook, tweet, pin, email, morse code, fucking carrier pigeon this to save a life!
I wish I knew who the author was. I’m definitely not the OP, actually think it might be an old chain email or even letter from back in the day. The version I saw floating around Facebook ended with "my cardiologist says mail this to 10 friends, maybe you’ll save one!” And knew this was way too interesting not to pass on.
Only a Girl - Gia // She Like Girls - Metro Station // Cliffs Edge - Hayley Kiyoko // Girls like Girls - Hayley Kiyoko // Night Go Slow - Catey Shaw // Against The Night - Catey Shaw // Horizon - Luna Blake // Warm On a Cold Night - Honne // I’m Yours - Alessia Cara // Magnets - Disclosure feat Lorde // Someone New - Hozier // Here Without You - 3 Doord Down // Wherever You Will Go - The Calling // Can’t Helo Falling In Love (Cover) - Twenty One Pilots // Carousel - Melanie Martinez // Is There Somewhere - Halsey // Ghost - Halsey.
Ok but what if there was a soulmate au based on music
Like everyone knows a part of a melody and you have to find the person (or people) that knows the rest
So many possibilitie
married couples idley humming their tune around the house and hearing their partner finishing the tune and smiling because its such a simple bonding moment
Teens sitting in a classroom working and a hard worker starts humming under their breath and the quiet kid at the back goes bright red and chokes out the answering piece of the song
Musicians working their song into their work as an underlying melody hoping the right person will hear it
Dating sites where its just a bunch of voice clips
‘Hi, um I’m X and this is my tune… da de dum, dahhh la de da de and then i dont know the rest, do you?’
Radio call in stations to help people find TRUE LOVE
Someone having a panic attack and crying and choking out their tune because it always calms them to sing it, and then the person caring for them starts singing along quietly
Popular kids pretending their melody is hip and trendy when its actually a beautiful classical piece
The deaf knowing the lyrics to their song and signing it randomly, trying to find the person who knows the rest because it cuts out in the middle of the sentence like you’re my true love whatever wHATS THE REST OF THAT ONE SENTANCE ITS BEEN BUGGING ME SO LONG
People slipping phrases of their lyrics into speech, hoping someone will pick it up
People theorising like what could go next, maybe its like this or this and trying so hard that when they hear it they just smile because they were never anywhere near how beautiful their partners song is
FUNERALS PLAYING THE SONG AND TEARS IN THE ALIVE PARTNERS EYES BECAUSE THEY’LL NEVER HEAR THEIR SOULMATE SING IT AGAIN
- I came out 6 months ago and it’s still hard for me to say the word “lesbian” out loud. When I do come out to someone I use the word “gay” but like I know my aversion to the word is just internalized lesbophobia and misogyny and I don’t want that to affect my word choice? I’m a lesbian and i want to feel 150% comfortable saying the word “lesbian”.
- When I see a sexual lesbian scene (OITNB or The L Word) I instantly feel a cold fist in my stomach and a compulsion to avert my eyes. I still feel guilty about finding any of that stuff attractive.
- A couple of months ago I saw a Tumblr post talking about a new movie about a 9 year old lesbian who has a crush on her friend and my first thought was “Ew, why would they make a movie that sexualizes kids like that?” and then I realized that my knee-jerk reaction was way off. Like there’s nothing wrong or hypersexual about a 9 year old girl holding another 9 year old girl’s hand. But I had spent so many years hiding that part of myself, and buying into the idea that lesbianism is innately bad and dirty and shameful that to see it be the center of a movie freaked me out. But then I thought about it and felt bad for 9 year old lesbian me who had to deal with those feelings of repulsion about herself and couldn’t even admit she was having them… And it made me realize how important movies like that really are…
Representation is so important. The first time I saw a woman show a physical desire to be with another woman was when I was 13 and watching tv with my family and an advertisement for a well-known pervy (geared towards male audiences) DVD franchise came on and of course it featured female college students making out. My dad got so upset he called the tv station to complain. Meanwhile I had a lot of feelings but couldn’t acknowledge any of them… And it made me wish that with all the TV and movies I saw I could have seen just a few gay couples… 9 year old girls holding hands, a 15 year old getting kissed by her girlfriend for the first time, college girlfriends coming up with cute ways to help each other study… just some positive characters I could have looked at and realized “Oh. They’re cute and sweet together. There’s nothing wrong with that. That’s normal. I’m normal.”
Summary: Bucky AU. After a major deal falls through, your father’s business almost falls apart. In a desperate attempt to save his livelihood, he seeks the help of his oldest friend, George Barnes, who happens to be the CEO of one of the most influential businesses in New York. He agrees, but on one condition. You have to marry his son.
Word Count: 1,715
In the hours that passed, you found yourself growing more and more excited for your date with Bucky. It was strange, you thought, that your situation had changed so quickly. Your relationship had more than its fair share of ups and downs so far. Perhaps this was going to be the turning point.
After Bucky explained the photo, you immediately texted Wanda, filling her in on everything that had happened that afternoon. You didn’t mention the fight that the article caused, though. If she had known, she would have felt extremely guilty. It wasn’t her fault, after all. Even if her text had led to your rash actions, she had only been trying to protect you, to make sure you were safe and happy. She meant well.
Before the Sun Is In the Sky - Lin Manuel Miranda X Reader
Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader
Summary: You’re a sleep deprived third-year resident at the hospital and you’ve been assigned to the ER where a disheveled Lin comes in after a kitchen mishap.
Warnings: Blood, needles, cursing. I think that’s it?
Word Count: 3,132 (Yiiiikes.)
A/N: So I haven’t written in a long while, so it’s hella rusty and I’m sorry for this trash. This is my first fic in a long ass time. It was initially gonna be a one shot, but then I started rambling and well, it’s dumb. ANYWAY. Have fun with this garbage. Let me know what y'all think and maybe I’ll write more. Who knows.
SIDE NOTE: Thanks to @ourforgottenboleros for editing and being the sweetest pal ever. GO READ HER STUFF ‘CAUSE BECCA INSPIRED ME TO WRITE AGAIN AND HONESTLY I’M FLUSTERED BC OF HER WORK, SO YEAH.
You were four hours past the end of your shift at Columbia University Hospital and you’d been sleep deprived for a little over two days. It wasn’t like you had a right to kick yourself in the ass for being so exhausted because you intentionally signed up for this. Four years at Tufts, another four at Cornell, you weren’t about to throw it all away just because you were tired. It was part of the job. As a third-year resident, you should be used to it by now – and sure, you were, but you were human and sleep was still precious.
It was almost 4 in the morning and you were making your last round in the pit before calling it a night. The ER was oddly silent in a city that never sleeps, but still, you were beyond grateful for the silent reprieve, no matter how momentary.
“Doctor Y/N, there’s a minor laceration that just got assigned to Room 17,” a nurse called out from behind the station. “He was the last patient out there.”
You groaned to yourself, almost wanting to admit defeat. You didn’t want to go check up on someone that was most likely inebriated to the point where impulse and clumsiness overpowered all logic and balance. The guy probably had some superficial injury that could be patched up with some antibacterial cream and a Spider-Man band aid.
“Thanks, Erica,” you replied as you stifled a yawn that’s been trying to escape for the past six hours. “Stats and everything uploaded to the database?”
Erica nodded and smiled at you sympathetically, knowing full well how much you just wanted to go home, take off everything, and climb into bed for just five hours before it was time to start again.
Room 17, you thought to yourself as your feet subconsciously brought you to the back hallway of the emergency room, tablet in tow. After a brief overview of his stats, medical history, and a description of the wound, you quickly gave the door two knocks before entering the room. Pulling back the privacy curtain, you looked up from your tablet and smiled at a disheveled man with his hand wrapped in a bloody hand towel.
“Hi, I’m Doctor Y/N, Mister… Lin-Manuel.” You smiled as you set down the tablet and approached him.
“You can just call me Lin,” he replied as he tried to wave at you with his cut hand, pain suddenly reminding him of his early morning mistake. “Oh duh, so stupid.”
You bit your cheek to keep the snicker that was quickly rising up and grabbed a pair of latex gloves and put them on.
“Alright, so what happened?” Reaching out for his hand, you gingerly hold it and remove the towel, exposing a three inch long slice on his left hand, starting from a centimeter above the base of his middle finger ending down by the outside curve of his palm. “Ahh, there it is.”
“Apple,” he started. “I was slicing an apple because eating it whole is just weird and it’s so much easier to eat it in slices, so that way I have free range with my hands to–”
You stopped him. “So you were slicing an apple on a cutting board and then this happened… to the inside of your palm?” That made no sense. If anything, he would’ve cut a finger or even the outside of his hand.
Shuffling over to the cabinet on the wall adjacent to the bed, you opened it up and grabbed gauze pads and saline solution.
“No, I was holding it. In my hand.” Lin looked you in the eye and then suddenly couldn’t make eye contact. There was a moment of hesitation and he brought his focus to the pulse oximeter still attached to his index finger. “Stupid, I know, but I wasn’t thinking. I had other things going on in my head and I got hungry, so I figured I’d cut up an apple and get back to writing.”
You made your way back over to him.
“I think a lesson was learned today,” you retorted with a smirk on your face as you began to clean the cut.
He winced and jerked his hand away just a bit. “Yeah, but it’s a setback now.”
You tried to clean the cut, but every time you put an ounce of pressure to the area, he seemed more and more uncomfortable. “Okay, I’m gonna numb this.”
“With a topical cream?” He asked with a raised brow, concern growing on his face.
“I could use a topical anesthetic, but when I stitch this up, you’ll probably feel a little more of the sutures than you’d like…”
You felt bad for him, you really did. His apparent uneasiness with needles on top of very obvious sleep deprivation (his eye bags looked worse than yours, dear Lord) made his big brown eyes grow wider and suddenly, they looked, for lack of a better term, helpless. That split second of fear and anxiety staring right back at you in the form of a puppy dog in a human’s body just sent your heart plummeting.
“Look, it’ll be quick. If anything, it’s a quick pinch here,” you pointed to the base of his finger, then the middle of his palm, and the edge of his hand. “There, and… right there. By the time it’s over, you’ll just feel pressure on it and it’s all done.” You flashed him a reassuring smile and shot him a look of ‘okay, let’s do it?’.
Lin audibly swallowed and nodded shaking. “I just… needles. Not too great with them.”
You headed towards the door and shot him yet another sympathetic grin. “I know, but it’ll help, I promise. I’ll be right back with what I need and we’ll get you stitched up and out of here, okay?”
“Sure, take your time, Doc.” He ran his free hand through his hair and let out a deep breath. “Please. Take your time. I need to mentally prepare for… this.” He gestured around the room and looked up at the ceiling.
You chuckled and shook your head. “You’ll be just fine.”
This was an everyday occurrence. Patients came in and out of the hospital, especially the pit where they were never anticipating to be. Patience and understanding were two traits that were necessary on the road to success as a doctor, so when it came to cases like this, the standard protocol was already second nature to you.
Once you had the required items, you took your tray and brought it back to his room. “Hey there, all set?”
A shaky breath escaped Lin’s lips and he shook his head again, clearly trying his hardest to smile. “Uh, no, but it needs to happen. I just… the blood, the stitches, my hand…”
“I’ll distract you,” you offered as you grabbed the stool and took a seat next to the bed. “Okay, put your hand up here and tell me about what you were working on.” Fingers in place in the new pair of gloves, you took the syringe and popped off the top before beginning to administer the anesthesia.
He gasped audibly, prompting you to stop to give him a few more moments of preparation. “Shit, that’s a big needle.” His eyes widened at the sight of the bevel that was a hairline away from his gaping wound.
It was a short gauge, a whopping 26 millimeters from the tip to the hub, barely a millimeter longer than a typical 25-gauge butterfly. A baby’s pinky finger was longer.
“Shh, shh, don’t look,” you told him calmly in an attempt to reassure him. “Close your eyes, Lin. It’s okay. Breathe in, breathe out.” A comforting smile grew across your face as you coaxed him to relax. “So tell me, what’s that thing you were working on?”
“A musical.” He exhaled a shaky breath as he squeezed his eyes shut, his free hand visibly trembling as he brought it up to further cover his face, as if shielding himself from the entire ordeal would make it all go away. You started to administer the anesthesia one more time, working as lightly as you possibly could. “It’s a fuzzy idea I had one day and it just sort of – ow! Sorry, I – ah! Fuck! Damn it! I’m gonna – oh God, I’m gonna puke…”
“It’s over, it’s over, no more pain.” You gazed into his eyes as a smile tugged on the corners of your lips. “Also, no more sensation because you’ll be numb for a few hours.”
He cautiously opened his eyes and looked back at you, chest rising and falling as if he’d sprinted up six flights of stairs, a slight grin of relief reciprocating your own. “God, that was horrible.”
You couldn’t help but giggle a little. There was something entrancing about his personality, and honestly, him being your (hopefully) last patient almost made it worthwhile.
“You’re fine. I’ll get it all stitched and you can go back home to work on that musical, alright? Tell me all about it.” Suture in hand, you began to close up his wound, stealing glimpses of him every now and then to ensure he was comfortable.
“You know the dude on the ten-dollar bill? Well, he’s got a wild story from start to finish.”
“Alexander Hamilton? That guy?”
He opened up his eyes and looked at you as you met his gaze with a quizzical look. With pursed lips, he nodded as if to say, ‘Yeahhhh, crazy.’
A musical. About some old man on the ten spot. Who in the world would do such a thing? Of course, you weren’t about to burst his bubble, especially since he was slowly but surely calming down. And plus, it was mesmerizing just listening to him ramble on.
You were about a third of the way through and despite your desperation for rest (and a bagel – dear God, you were starving), conversing with this sleep deprived, clumsy playwright-slash-musician somehow made tonight much more entertaining – which was odd because your definition of ‘entertaining’ was scrubbing in on a coronary artery bypass graft. But regardless, something about this man made you want to slow down and take your time instead of rushing him out the door.
“So what’s so special about Mr. Ten Dollar bill?” You pulled the suture through and tied a knot, moving languidly to prolong the moment.
“Everything,” he answered, accidentally moving his wounded hand to further emphasize his reply.
You instinctively grabbed him by the wrist to steady his hand.
“Yikes! Sorry, sorry, I forgot…”
With a laugh, you breathed a sigh of relief, worried some freak accident would’ve occurred had you not been quick on your feet – well, hands. “No no, it’s all good. Keep going.”
“Uh, where was I– Right, so he was just some washed up orphan, tough life, big dreams, some victories, huge mistake…”
Stitch upon stitch, you listened intently, finding yourself upstaging Mona Lisa’s smirk with your own because no matter how monotonous this procedure was, you were actually really into it. The conversation, that was, and you just kind of, sort of, maybe, perhaps didn’t want it to end.
Eventually, he wasn’t as nervous as he was when he first arrived and the conversation went from distraction to legitimate socialization.
Suddenly, his voice trailed off.
“This is probably boring to you. You don’t wanna hear about this. You probably have people talking your ear off every day. I’m sorry.” Lin gave you an apologetic smile. “You must be tired of me already.”
You look up at him and shrug, the faintest smile gracing your face. “I mean, it sounded ridiculous at first, but the more you talked about it, the more I wanted to know.”
“Don’t patronize me, it’s okay.” A grin tugged at his lips. “I’m sure you wanted silence.”
Honestly, he was partially right. You wanted nothing more than to drown out the melodies of the hustling, bustling city you called home. There was not a more arousing thought than silence. (That was sad. You were turned on by silence.)
But that was before this patient swept you up in the excitement of the story of Mr. Ten Bucks. And suddenly, you were okay with hearing him drone on and on.
With a shake of your head, you smiled up at him. “I was actually enjoying the conversation.”
“Well anyway, that’s the gist of it. I’ll spare you of the rest of my commentary.” He shot you a sheepish smile and laughed under his breath. “Weird concept, huh?”
“I dig it!” you replied with an enthusiastic nod. Sure, it sounded absurd, but the way he described it to you made it seem like brilliance was brewing. “I want tickets to the show when it’s done. Front and center. I’m gonna be like, ‘Yeah, I fixed up his hand!’”
A laugh fell from his lips and he met your eyes. “You’re cute, Doc.”
Oh, there you went with the blushing. You felt the heat radiating from your cheeks and you broke away from his gaze, fearing your quickly reddening face would be noticed. Eyes focused on the task still at hand, you continued to close up the wound.
“I lucked out here in the ER.”
You could practically feel his eyes still on you, and the silly grin on his face made your cheeks flame up even more.
“Look!” You gesticulated a mock presentation of his newly stitched up hand and flashed him your pearly whites, trying to change the subject. “Not bad at all, right?”
He brought his hand up closer to his face and examined it with fascination mixed with a twinge of disgust. “How Frankenstein’s monster-esque.”
You reached out for his hand after giving him a few moments to gawk at it and started to wrap it up with the roll of gauze, finishing it up with a knot. Cleaning up your station, you watched Lin’s reaction and couldn’t help but laugh a little. What a relief, you were finally done.
“It’s shouldn’t scar though, so if you were worried about having aesthetically pleasing hands, those stitches won’t hinder you from pursuing a hand modeling career.”
“Thank you,” he said with a sincere smile. “This was a surprisingly positive experience for me.”
“Well, it was my pleasure. And thank you for educating me on America’s history.”
“It was my pleasure educating a beautiful doctor who won’t, in any way, shape, or form, have any use of her new knowledge of America’s boastful founding father.”
Damn him, he was too charming. Those mesmerizing eyes, tousled dark locks, it almost seemed like he was flirting – No, stop it. You’re exhausted. That’s all it was. Exhaustion. Delusion.
A yawn was making its way out of your mouth and you couldn’t help but let it out and stretch along with it.
“Early shift, huh?” He asked, the grin on his face unwavering. “I get that.”
“Actually, I’m on my way out.”
Saying those words lifted the weight off your shoulders, the contours of your body already feeling the warmth of your bed, your head already sensing the softness of your pillow, your mind already imagining the sensation of rest.
His face fell and his cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “Oh God, and here I was, talking your ear off for about an hour and–”
“Don’t even worry about it!” You waved him off and shook your head fervently. “It’s my job. I chose this life. It’s not your fault.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I would’ve just kept my mouth shut had I known.”
“Please don’t feel bad, I’m totally fine. It’s okay, I promise!” You pulled the gloves off your hand and threw them away before putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to assuage his worries. “Let me just slide out of here to write you a prescription and you can go home, okay?”
He nodded wordlessly and watched you walk out of the room.
A quick note on the pad and a grab of a handful of gauze and antibacterial cream later, you made your way back into Room 17.
“I’m ba-ack.” You sang as you swung open the door. “Okay, this is for 800 milligram Ibuprofen for pain if need be, and here are some supplies to keep that cut clean and covered, okay?”
There was a brief moment of quiet between the two of you.
He broke the silence.
“Have you had breakfast yet?”
“No,” you shrugged. “I was gonna tackle that issue after work.”
“Can I take you to breakfast?” He asked without missing a beat, cocking his head slightly to the side, eagerly anticipating your response.
What. That was not something you could do. Doctors were not to affiliate themselves with patients they’re currently treating outside of medical reasons.
Wait a damn minute. He was flirting. And you, stupid you, chalked it all up to merely hallucinating because you were so sleep deprived but –
“Sure,” you replied with a quick nod and a bashful smile plastered on your face, your mind not even comprehending that your mouth decided it was best to jump the gun. “I’d like that.”
And plus, technically, you weren’t even treating him anymore. Your job was done. You patched him up, told him how to care for it, and sent him on his way. His primary care physician was in charge of the follow-up. You were in the clear.
“I’m glad,” he stood up from the bed and grabbed the supplies you gave him and stuffed them in his front pocket. “Should I just… wait in the lobby then?”
“Um, well, the nurse will come in with your discharge papers and he’ll go over what the next few weeks are gonna be like. The game plan for your hand and what not. That should give me enough time to head downstairs to change really quickly and I’ll meet you back up here. Is that okay?”
Lin grinned at you. “Absolutely. I can’t wait.”
And with that, you hurriedly walked towards the elevators and rushed to down to the resident lockers. You frantically stripped yourself of forty-one hours’ worth of stress, sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids and changed into comfy leggings, a black tank top, and a flannel to tie it all together. Messenger bag slung over your shoulder and across your body, you approached the mirror hung behind the door, examining your hair, ensuring you were, at the very least, presentable at this point.
Well, you thought to yourself. This’ll have to do.
You met back up with Lin in Room 17, peeking your head through the door with a faint smile. “Hey, all done?”
Police in Spain arrested a Russian hacker sought by American authorities on Friday, amid rumors that the man is linked to interference in the 2016 United States presidential election.
According to the Washington Post, Pyotr Levashov was detained in Barcelona on a U.S. computer crimes warrant, which isn’t necessarily anything out of the ordinary.
Foreign speculation kicked into high gear, however, after Levashov’s wife said in an interview with a Russian RT broadcaster that her husband had told her during a phone call from the police station that he had been brought in for creating a computer virus “linked to Trump’s election win.” Read more.(4/10/2017 10:34 AM)
Hoseok walked in, after hearing the screaming, he saw an angry Jimin, face red and eyes swelled and an upset Y/n. Jimin clenched his teeth, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “You wanna know what’s going on?” Jimin asked, almost laughing but he was crying. His shaky finger pointed to you, as he started to breathe heavily “this bitch over here ruined my relationship with Sunhee.” His words stung, as you winced, you wanted to slap him so badly, but you knew that he was just hurting and finding an excuse to blame it on anyone else but him.
“Jimin is that any way to talk to Y/n?” Hoseok scolded, he was disappointed with how Jimin had to find anyone but him to blame. Jimin only lets out an angry huff, as he wiped the tears away.
“Hoseok, you can’t honestly believe that I’ll treat her as a normal person after ruining my relationship do you?” Jimin asked, laughing as if Hoseok told a joke. But his smile was soon wiped away replaced with a disgusted face instead. “I can’t even look at you anymore.” Jimin laughed, as hot tears kept flowing from your face. “Did you hear me? I don’t want to ever see you again!” Jimin yelled, making you wince. The boys started to rush in to hear why Jimin was screaming.
“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked, as he stood beside you seeing you all broken up in tears, as Jimin’s face got redder.
“I see, all you guys care about is stupid Y/n, you guys side with her no matter what.” Jimin angrily points out, as he clenches his fists.
“That’s not true Jimin and you know that” Jin softly reminded him, but Jimin just shook his head.
“It’s always about Y/n, what’s so good about her anyways? She isn’t worth much, she can always be replaced.” Jimin’s bitter words struck into you, making you feel your throat close in.
“Jimin that’s enough, you can’t act like you’re the victim when you caused just as much pain that you feel right now to Y/n” Namjoon argued reasonably.
“Shut up, just shut up. She’s not worth anything to me, Sunhee does, and she ruined it for me.” Jimin screamed.
“She may not be worth anything to you, but she means the world to the rest of us.” Jungkook strongly replies as he holds on to you to keep you from collapsing.
“Well, of course, she means the world to you, you always go for my trash don’t you?” Jimin smirks, as he laughs to himself. Jungkook’s fist clenches, as he punches Jimin in the face. Hoseok and Taehyung hold him back before he could do any more damage.
“You’re a fucking jerk Jimin, Sunhee didn’t leave you because she felt she guilty, she didn’t want to date an idiot like you!” Jungkook screams the room went silent. Jimin felt his cheek, where Jungkook had punched him, the impact made some blood fall out, as he wiped it off.
“I guess you’ve forgotten your place but don’t worry I’ll gladly help you back into it.” Jimin grinned evilly, as he rose his hand striking his hand across Jungkook’s face.
“That’s enough.” You scream, pushing Jimin away from Jungkook. “Stay away from Jungkook, I don’t care what you call me, but if you ever lay another finger on Jungkook I’ll make sure you learn your place. He’s like a brother to me so don’t even try to pull that card on him.”
“Whatever” Jimin rolled his eyes, leaving the room.
Weeks had passed since that argument, you barely went to the dorms anymore. You couldn’t bare to see Jimin, there was no way you would try to talk to him again. The boys would often come over to your apartment and hang out, usually, you guys would play board games and eat take out, and sometimes Jungkook would even beg to sleep over so you guys would just watch horror movies till you fell asleep automatically. After the boys left, you closed the door, cleaning up the take out boxes and such. You went to go to bed when you heard your phone rang, answering it.
“Hello?” You asked into the phone.
“Y/n L/n?” A man asked, in a deep gruff voice.
“Yes?” You answered in a meek voice.
“Can you come to the police station, we have your friend here and we need you to come and receive him.” The police asked while you told him you were on your way.
You got out of your car, rushing to the main desk. “Hi, um, my name is Y/n L/n and I was told to come and get my friend.” You told the lady in front.
“Ah okay, um, all of the people who are going to be picked up are in that room,” She said pointing to the door down the hall.
You nodded, as you walked over to the room, you wondered which friend was in trouble who needed your aid so badly. You opened the door to reveal a drunk Jimin, collapsed on the chair. “Jimin?” You asked, surprise that you were called to the police station to pick up him.
“Y/n you actually came,” Jimin said surprised as he got up from his chair, only to stumble back down.
“Let’s just go” You rolled your eyes, as Jimin tried his best to follow behind you.
Once you got him into your car, you started to drive, keeping the car ride with less conversation as possible. “You know sometimes when people are in an awkward situation they usually will make conversation.” Jimin joked lightly.
“You know sometimes when people don’t like the person they are driving they make it pretty clear.” You say back, you weren’t in the mood for this. Jimin didn’t say anything else, keeping the car ride as silent as possible.
You pulled up to the dorm, getting out of your car, as you got Jimin out of your car, dragging him up to the dorm. Knocking on the door, you hoped at least someone would be awake at the moment. Jin opened the dorm, as he smiled at you. “Hey y/n, did one of us forget something? You knew you can always give it to us tomorrow,” Jin joked, as you smiled back.
“I’m here to return this, ” You said, pulling Jimin into Jin’s grasps.
“Jimin? What were you doing hanging out with him?” Jin asks as you rolled your eyes.
“I was called by the police station to come collect him, I don’t know why, though.” You simply stated as you yawned.
“It’s late Jimin, why would you go out to the bar? Did you get into a fight? Are those bruises?” Jin rambled on, only to make Jimin groan.
“Can you not? I’m tired and want some sleep.” Jimin groaned as he trudged back to his room.
“Why is he going to bars on a Wednesday night?” You asked as Jin shook his head in disapproval.
“Jimin’s been going to bars every night every since Sunhee broke up with him, he claims it helps take his mind off of her” Jin rolls his eyes, as he tsks at the thought of Jimin drinking to get his mind off of things. “Anyways, why don’t you sleep over? It’s one in the morning and I wouldn’t want you to drive home this late.” Jin suggests as you nod giving him a smile.
“Thanks, Jin.” You smile, as Jin grins at you, handing you a pillow and blanket, giving you a long hug.
“I’m glad to see you back at the dorms again.” He whispers, putting his chin on top of your head.
“Me too” You whisper back.
“Y/n? Jin?” Namjoon asks as he turns on the lights. “What’s going on?” You two turned to face Namjoon, who looked super tired, bags were under his eyes, as he put down his backpack. “I thought you guys went to hang out at y/n’s place?”
“We were, and then after I got a call from the police station telling me to go pick up Jimin, ” You tell him, as he heads over.
“And why are you two hugging?” Namjoon asks as Jin hugged you tighter. “Can we not hug? I didn’t know that was illegal now” Jin replied.
“It’s not, it’s just weird to see you hugging in the dark. Alone.” Namjoon stated as he pulled you into a hug. “Sleep well Y/n” he smiled, as you smiled back.
“You too, and don’t spend your time always in those underground parties.” You grin as you wipe the dirt off Namjoon’s cheek. “Good night!” You smile, as you fall onto the couch.
Jin was walking back to his bedroom when he felt someone grab his arm, Jin turned back to see Namjoon glaring at him. “Leave Y/n alone, she’s mine.” Namjoon growls.
“Funny, I didn’t know you two were dating? Oh wait, never mind you’re not, so yeah uh I won’t leave her alone” Jin grins, as he walks into his room, closing the door.