i think she needs a doctor

Jerome Valeska x Reader: Daddy’s Little Doctor

Originally posted by evaalterrr

omg i got so excited at it i can’t even….. ugh. not only because i got an another request but also because this is an amazing idea and i’m in love with this, i think i need to change some things that were a little unclear to me but i hope you will like it anyway

sorry if it’s too short to your liking, & please let me know what you think
REQUESTS ARE  O P E N

PART TWO


[Y/N] was a pretty 15 year old girl, who liked spending her free time in her dad’s work. Jim Gordon’s work. She’d go there everyday after school.


She wanted to work at the GCPD in the future, not as a cop, but as a doctor, just like Doctor Leslie Thompkins. [Y/N] was a very smart girl, so everybody believed she would accomplish her goal.

[Y/N] enjoyed being with Doctor Lee, and as you may wonder, Doctor Lee enjoyed being with [Y/N]. She reminded her of herself when she was younger, so she was happy to answer any questions this sweet girl had.

“Harvey! Do you know where Doctor Thompkins is?" 

[Y/N]’s been looking for her, she wanted to watch her work, as always. At first she wasn’t sure if that’s okay with her but she said she enjoys her company, much to [Y/N]’s joy.

"I don’t know, kiddo, check the morgue.” Answered busy Harvey Dent petting her on the head and walking away.

[Y/N] was walking to the morgue as she heard two cops talking about Jerome Valeska. They didn’t have a chance to meet but she saw him, that day when they found his dead mother. Dead because of him.  

His cult was trying to bring him back from the dead…

“Can you believe he’s lying in the morgue right now with no face on?!”

“Shut up, this is disgusting.”

[Y/N] could agree on that. It seriously gave her chills.

But still, it didn’t change the fact she wanted to see how he looked now. She would never admit it to anyone, but she thought he was kinda cute. When he had a face and was still breathing, though.

[Y/N] entered the room humming a song she always does.  

“Doctor Le–” she stopped dead in her tracks.

Before her, Lee Thompkins sitting on a table, tied up, looking over her should to see who just came in, worry filled her eyes as she noticed it’s [Y/N]. And there it was Jerome Valeska, standing across from Doctor Lee, his face all bloody and bandaged smiling widely at [Y/N]. He was wearing something very skin-tight…

“Hi there. Care to join us, Sweetheart?” Jerome walked towards her.

Now as he took a better look at her, he noticed she looked younger than him.

“Don’t cha a little too young to work here?”

[Y/N] only shrugged and gulped as he started to tie her up and told her to sit beside Lee.

They looked at each other, Lee’s gaze looked like it was asking her “Why did you have to come here exactly right now?!”

Jerome not interested in Lee anymore, moved to kneel before the pretty girl and looked into her eyes.

“Do you know where is my face, Precious?”

She stared at him. “Yeah… I heard Dwight took it and that he wears it like a mask..” She made a disgusted face.

Jerome exhaled deeply. “At least he’s a handsome fella now.”

[Y/N] cracked a small smile trying not to giggle. She didn’t want Doctor Lee to think she’s stupid.

Jerome glanced back at Lee and then back to [Y/N] and cupped her cheek. 

“Now tell me, what exactly are you doing here?  You can’t possibly be working here, you look young. How old are you anyway, Sweet Cheeks?”

“Umm..” She was unsure if she should tell him but he had something in his eyes that screamed “tell me all about you!”

“I don’t work here, I’m 15 years old. My dad is working here.”

“Don’t tell him that [Y/N]!”

“[Y/N]? Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He smirked and reached for something to gag Doctor Lee. “Who’s your dad? I’m dying to know.”

“James Gordon.”

He started laughing like crazy. “James Gordon! I can’t believe it! And Doctor here is still talking to you after what your father has done to her poor husband?” He burst in another laugh.

[Y/N] wanted to defend her dad but she knew there was no point.

“Ohhh you’re coming with me, Gorgeous! You’re too fun to be left here!” He started to untie her.

And she left with him. Just like that.

Doctor Lee waited for someone to rescue her, they needed to find [Y/N]. They needed to find Jerome.

But she could’t stop thinking about that one thing  that was still disturbing her.

The adoration in young girl’s eyes when she looked at the Ginger.

8

doctor who meme [1/10] episodes
↳ The Angels Take Manhattan

Hello, old friend, and here we are. You and me, on the last page. By the time you read these words, Rory and I will be long gone. So know that we lived well, and were very happy. And above all else, know that we will love you, always. Sometimes I do worry about you, though. I think once we’re gone, you won’t be coming back here for a while, and you might be alone, which you should never be. Don’t be alone, Doctor. And do one more thing for me. There’s a little girl waiting in a garden. She’s going to wait a long while, so she’s going to need a lot of hope. Go to her. Tell her a story. Tell her that if she’s patient, the days are coming that she’ll never forget. Tell her she’ll go to sea and fight pirates. She’ll fall in love with a man who’ll wait two-thousand years to keep her safe. Tell her she’ll give hope to the greatest painter who ever lived and save a whale in outer space. Tell her this is the story of Amelia Pond. And this is how it ends.

$15 COMMISSIONS - my cat needs surgery

So heres the story. My cat, Halloween, ate a 10 inch piece of ribbon Friday night. We took her immediately to the emergency vet and they tried to get her to throw it up, but she wouldnt. The doctor said to bring her home and if she isnt eating, if shes lethargic, or vomiting, then bring her back in immediately because that could mean that her intestines are bunching up because the ribbon got caught in the track. All yesterday, Saturday, she was eating, jumping, playing around. I kept a close eye on her, thinking everything was so far okay and her body will just pass it. Last night, however, she wouldnt eat. She laid between my legs all night, not moving and by morning, normally she would be meowing up a storm and demanding food. This morning she didnt. I know my cat, that isnt normal. So I called the doctor and they said to bring her in for an xray. I just got back from the vet. It turns out, the string got stuck and her intestines are bunching up. Normally they should be all squiggly on the xray, but instead on the left side, they are lined in a perfect row of three. This means that she has to go into surgery. If she doesnt, itll just get worse. I asked if she is in pain and the doctor said yes. The surgery is nearly $4000. $4000 dollars that I dont have. So the doctor has her now, shes going into surgery this afternoon.

I’m not the type of person to ask for money. So I’m not. But I’m opening up $15 commissions that will each take me about 1-2 hours. 

Theyll just be headshots, no elaborate clothing. Must have reference picture thats well lit. Any jewelry or crowns or anything is $5 extra. 

I just really need help, so if anyone would like a commission, message me please. **paypal only

10

see, like, missy has been a very touchy character in this regen?

she snogs the doctor, and constantly rests her arm around him/on his shoulder (outside st paul’s, and once she’s free on the plane, to name a few times), and just holding on to him for dear life when he kisses her in the graveyard. she wraps her arm around osgood. in s9, she reaches into clara’s personal space to make her have the vortex manipulator, and she sits very closely to the doctor in the ship.

getting into people’s personal spaces is a very quick and effective way to make them very uncomfortable, and she uses this to her advantage to scare osgood, and her just being nearby people makes them nervous.

the scene in which she reaches for the doctor (and to me she looks like she’s reaching to fix his coat, like in s8 with the unit/cybermen in the square scene),  he steps back, and it shows she wants to be near him and touch him for her own comfort, not to make him uncomfortable. she instantly stops, and freezes and looks down and laces her fingers together, kinda shakily. she doesn’t continue her attempt, which is something the old her might have done - stepping forward and not allowing a rejection in the first place.

[gif from @the-clever-boy-in-the-funny-hat​]

12 recognizes, however, how much she needs that contact, but isn’t ready to give it. he’s not much of a hugging person, but he understands that she needs that from him, so he does what he can. her reaction to this, like she’s taking a breath, about to speak, is so fundamental. she knows he’s trying to help her too, but doesn’t know how to convey how much she needs it without embarrassing herself/acting ooc.

i feel that missy really needs that hug. she really, really needs it. even just from bill. she hasn’t really had physical contact with anyone in years, presumably, and that does things to a person whose character revolves a lot around it. she’s restraining herself so much.

anonymous asked:

Sometimes I wonder why the Jedi's healers, doctors and therapists (if they had therapists) didn't just storm a Jedi Council meeting one day and point out the physical and mental injuries and trauma Anakin needs to heal from as well as the psychological impact of going from the life of a slave, to a member of a highly conservative religious organization. I love that in your Librarian AU Jocasta addresses this but I wonder if she got the healers like Vokara Che on her side.

I think the answer to your question is contained within the question itself: the Jedi are a highly conservative religious organization.

I’ve never been a Jedi, obviously, but I do know a thing or 50 about life inside a conservative religious organization. And one of the major parallels I see there is an absolute belief that faith and right practice are enough to ensure mental and spiritual well-being. If you are practicing rightly, you will not be affected by trauma, by negative emotions, by mental illness. If you are affected by those things, you must be doing something wrong.

Yoda’s advice to Anakin in ROTS bears this out. I’m always a bit puzzled when I see people trying to justify Yoda’s advice, because listen: I’ve been on the receiving end of that approach so many times I’ve lost count. It’s not some otherworldly, fictional attitude. Yoda’s approach to pastoral counseling (if you will) is basically standard practice in fundamentalist religious circles.

Everything feels like it’s falling apart so you go to your spiritual leader and all he does is tell you everything you’re doing wrong. You need to let go. You need to trust. You need to have faith and follow the teachings and stop asking questions. Your doubt is probably to blame for all of your problems in the first place. The teachings of the faith tell you everything you need to know. Accept them and rejoice in your suffering.

Of course the Jedi don’t have therapists. That would require admitting that trauma and mental illness exist, that they aren’t things people can simply think or will themselves out of by following the right religious steps. It would mean admitting that so-called negative emotions are normal and valid and can be worked through in a healthy way - and even admitting that sometimes they are a positive thing.

The Jedi Order, as an organization, cannot admit those things without drastically changing many of their core beliefs and principles. Much less can they admit that their own structure and practice might be potentially harmful or even traumatizing to anyone.

Bleeding Out - An Alex/Reader Imagine

Originally posted by heavensentusharry

Requested by anon.

Summary: Alex doubts reader’s abilities as a female doctor….until he needs her more than he thinks.

Word Count: 1157

Warnings: Mentions of blood/gunshot wounds.

Disclaimer: This is my first ever Dunkirk fic and I’m still trying to get the diction of an English accent in here, so don’t shame my first attempt. I’m American as hell. Let me know what you think and keep sending requests.


The young doctor looked at the chart in her hand as she sped-walked down the hallway towards the room where she was needed. It’d been an unusually slow day in the medical bay, and the stitches she was about to give were the most serious issue they’d had all day.

She pushed aside the curtain and entered the room where a man lay, his eyebrow bandaged up.

“Alex Baker?” she asked the man, who glared at her.

“For tha last fuckin’ time, I need a doctor, not another nurse,” he said, looking irritated.

“I am a doctor,” Y/N answered, pushing a piece of her behind her ear. “Doctor L/N. You need some stitches.”

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The Doctor’s & Clara’s romance

I’ve made a little compilation of all the notable Whouffle and Whouffaldi moments over the seasons, along with my thoughts and theories:

Their relationship was set up as romance right from the very beginning with these words, because it becomes obvious right away that Clara might be romantically interested in the Doctor by hinting at future snogging. I don’t believe that she immediately jumped him, but she let him know from the beginning that she wasn’t uninterested. 

Let’s jump to “The Crimson Horror” where Eleven and Clara pose as husband and wife and they both convinced Mrs Gilliflower, a woman who is anything but stupid. In fact, they both seem to enjoy it, too.

I always like to believe that the end of “Nightmare in Silver” is the moment Eleven realizes that he fancies Clara because he notices her on a physical level. Besides, the conversation Mr Clever had with Clara in which “the Doctor” confesses his love to Clara is probably based on the Doctor’s own thoughts to which Mr Clever had access at that moment, but Clara saw through it and knew that the Doctor would never admit it.

When Clara suggests that she needs a boyfriend for Christmas dinner Eleven was excited. He actually believed that she was serious for a moment and he was more than happy to be her boyfriend, yet at the same time he was a bit worried that he might disappoint Clara. It was Eleven who was disappointed when he realized that Clara wasn’t actually serious.

Unfortunately they never really got to explore that part of their relationship because he got stranded on Trenzalore and later regenerated.

Matt Smith has confirmed that Clara was sort of his girlfriend while Jenna said in an interview or during a panel that Clara realized she was in love with him during the regeneration.


The rest is under a cut because it’s long:

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anonymous asked:

Could you do a scenario of Genji or McCree flirting with Mercy's medical assistant/apprentice while they are getting treated for minor injuries post mission?

Masterpost

The familiar smell of antiseptic of the medical room greeted you as you entered, carefully carrying the latest box of supplies which was sent over for Dr. Zeigler. However, unlike the usual quiet hum of the machinery that would usually greet you when you took your shift, it was a loud argument that welcomed you to the room. Noticing a few drop of blood on the pure white floor, you quickly checked your watch. Of course. A group of agents must of just returned from another mission. Setting down the box on the supply cupboard, you quickly tugged on your white lab coat, hurrying over the where you could hear Angela’s voice arguing with a male one. 

“I will sedate you if you keep arguing with me! Even though it is a minor wound, it could get infected and I will not have you out of action just because of it!” The doctor scolded. 

“That’s why I came to get a band-aid from you!” The voice protested. 

Angela made a sound of pure exasperation before appearing in your line of sight, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She started slightly at the sight of you before sighing in relief. 

“Oh thank goodness. Please deal with him, I’ve known him too long to put up with anymore of his shenanigans.” Angela whispered to you, placing a chilled hand on your shoulder before looking back over her shoulder, saying in a louder tone: “ My apprentice will be taking care of that wound for you. And then, only then, may you leave.” 

“Hm? The cute one? Why didn’t you just say so, I’d have come sooner!” 

Angela sighed before giving you an apologetic look and walking over to the supplies you brought in, starting to pack them safely away. You took a breath and walked over, behind the privacy curtain, to the patient’s bed where the man was sitting, waiting. 

Jesse McCree

The cowboy reclined comfortably on the bed, the sleeve of his still intact human arm rolled all the way up to his shoulder, showing a large, deep, bloodied gash from the elbow to the top of his arm. Dirt still clung to his darkened clothing and his serape, which he folded neatly on the chair next to the bed. He had taken his shoes off, as to not stain the bed sheets with blood and filth, as to not annoy Angela further. Smart man. 

He was whistling softly as you shut the curtains and turned to him, giving him a small lukewarm smile. 

“Howdy.” Jesse gave you a wolfish grin, tilting his head slightly like an overgrown wolf cub. 

You hummed a greeting, opening up the bedside drawer and took out bandages, a pair of scissors, antiseptic spray, cleaning cloth and a single band-aid. Jesse chuckled softly at the sight, sitting up so you could attend to him better. 

“You do know I was kidding about the band-aid, right sugar?” McCree asked, eyes watching you bemusedly. 

“Yes, but all kids like having a plaster on their owies, don’t they?” You retorted, using the cleaning cloth to lightly clean up the excess blood around the wound. 

Jesse snorted loudly, obviously amused. 

“So, you think I’m like a big kid.” 

“Evidently.” 

“Well, I ain’t bashful to tell ya, the things you’re making me think of ain’t kid-friendly at all.” Jesse purred playfully. 

You nearly dropped the bloodied cloth as you threw it in the dustbin, a slight colored tinge coming to your cheeks. You cleared your throat, picking up the antiseptic spray and, without warning, spraying it on the wound, making McCree jump. 

“Shit!” He growled. “That stings!” 

You smirked idly, starting to wrap the wound in bandages, feeling his narrowed gaze on you as you worked. He leaned forwards slightly, humming in your ear, hoping to distract you with his short distance from you. You momentarily lost concentration, opting to hurriedly redo the bandage, as McCree chuckled. You shot him a glare and tightened it abruptly, making the cowboy jump again. 

“Damn, doll, you’re sadistic to your patients. Are you like this all the time?” Jesse huffed, casually sliding his leg in between yours. 

“I learned from the best.” You shrugged, the thought of Angela approving of your harsh treatment of Jesse making you grin. 

“Well, your bedside manner is shit, but if you’re this mean in bed, I’d forgive it.” Jesse murmured, low so Angela wouldn’t hear. 

You accidentally cut your finger as you snipped off the end of the bandage which stuck out, startled from Jesse’s remark. You hissed a soft swear as you placed the scissors down, but was quickly silenced by McCree taking your hand and casually licking the cut, making you start. 

“Shit! That stings!” You pulled your hand away. 

Jesse smirked lazily, pleased with the quick karma. You huffed, picking up the band-aid and sticking it to his uselessly to the bandage around his arm. 

“There. Do you want a lollipop as well?” You hummed, going to the sink and running the cut under cold water. 

“Nah, but, uh, do you have any rubbers around here?” Jesse asked, sliding off the bed. 

For some reason there was a sinking feeling in your stomach. Shaking off the feeling, you strode over to the supply bench and pulled out a condom for him, giving him an unimpressed look. 

“Doll, what makes you think I’ll only be needing the one?” McCree chuckled, pulling his shoes on. 

You turned around, sighing and picked up two more, showing him the 3 little packets, Jesse nodding his approval. Standing up he took the edges of the condoms between his teeth, wrapping his serape around his shoulders, before pocketing them. 

“I’ll be back later, sweetheart!” Jesse called over his shoulder. 

“Don’t tell me you’ll be needing more.” You answered flatly. 

“Nah, I’m hoping on actually using them when I visit next time.” McCree grinned his wolfish smirk at your flushed cheeks as he shut the door behind him. 

You could hear his cheerful whistling all the way down the hall. 

Genji Shimada 

The cyborg was sitting boyishly on the bed, cross legged, resting his chin on the palm of his hand, a bored air about him. He straightened up slightly at your arrival, his vents exhaling a small amount of steam. You glanced at his body, trying to find the wound which Angela had lectured him about. 

“So, where’s this injury that can’t be helped with a band-aid?” You asked, watching the cyborg. 

Genji hummed, suddenly propping his leg up on the headboard of the bed, looking as if he was stretching for a ballet class.  There, underneath the damaged plating, was a large gash along his inner thigh. 

“Did you and Reaper try to get freaky and he forgot he still had his gloves on or something?” You asked, bemused before leaning in, examining the tear closely. 

“Ah no, it was Hana’s Ult gone wrong.” Genji laughed, amused at the thought.

You pushed your hair out of the way, trying the see where the most damage had  been caused, leaning in closer and squinting. Genji tilted his head, watching you get pretty close to his crotch. He chuckled to himself and, straining to hear if Angela was coming back, he pushed your hair out of your way, keeping his fingers tangled in it. 

You hummed a thanks. 

“Genji, you’ll need to g- What are you two doing?!” Angela pulled the curtain back, starting at the sight of you two, Genji holding your hair, your face practically buried in his lap. 

You jumped and looked up, puzzled, at Angela. Genji muffled his boyish chuckling, vents exhaling steam once more in glee. 

“I thought…” Angela’s cheeks gained a small amount of color, realizing she had leapt to conclusion. 

“Yes, doctor?” Genji purred happily, resting his hand on your lower back. “What did you think was happening? Must of been something that looked like it breached doctor-patient rules.” 

“N-Nevermind that!” Angela snapped. “I was just going to say that after the wound has been patched up, you should go along to Torbjorn to get the armour plating patched up!” 

Angela quickly disappeared with a huff. You glanced down at Genji quizzically to which he only giggled in response. 

“You’re cute when out of your element.” Genji remarked, leaning back on his forearms. 

Your cheeks colored momentarily, quickly grabs forceps, cleaning cloth, antiseptic and other medical instruments out of the bedside drawer. You pushed his inner thigh so you could better see the damage and got to work, cleaning the wound. You were being incredibly careful, as to not irritate the old scars the you brushed over, but still, Genji would grip the sheets a few times, huffing softly. You were just dabbing ointment along where skin met metal when your hand briefly slipped and accidentally pressed against the sensitive wounds. Genji gave a yelp of pain and you quickly pulled back. 

“Sorry.” You muttered. 

“You might as well kiss it better.” Genji hummed softly, tilting his head. 

“What? No!” 

“You should.” Genji’s gaze never broke away from your face. “That did hurt quite a lot.” 

“It’s unhygienic.” You said, flatly. 

“Well, kiss somewhere else then.” Genji suggested, a sultry tone entering his voice. 

“Y-You’re done here. Go to Torbjorn.” You quickly changed the path of the conversation, throwing away used cloths and washing the forceps you used to help clean the wound. 

Genji gingerly stood up, stretching his back so it clicked. You strode out, placing the now washed forceps back into the supply cupboard. You didn’t hear Genji come up behind you, until you felt his chin rest on your shoulder. 

“We’ll talk later about where you can place that kiss, hm?” Genji murmured. “I’m looking forward to it~” 

Don’t Want to Lose You

Originally posted by inkedcross

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Request:  Y/n having really bad cramps with nausea and fever but pushing harry away and saying it’s probably nothing. However it goes on for a long time and eventually harry calls an ambo against her wishes but it turns out to be something serious/other than cramps

A/N: I slightly changed the symptoms but the idea is still the same. Also, there are medical inaccuracies but how much do you really care?


“You weren’t supposed to be home yet!” your boyfriend Harry yelled in surprise as you walked into your shared apartment.

Despite the stabbing pain in your side, a grin spread across your face at the sight before you. Harry was in the middle of the kitchen, a spoon covered in bolognese sauce in one hand and an apron tied on over his clothes. When you took a step closer to the kitchen, you saw the mess he had made around the stove where the pasta sauce was simmering.

“I wanted to surprise yeh,” his shoulders slumped. “I was going to have a really nice dinner set up and have all this mess cleaned up,” he mumbled.

“You did surprise me! I’m sure it’s going to be amazing,” you took another step towards him and wrapped your arms around him, your nausea almost was forgotten for the moment.

“I just knew how stressed you’ve been with work lately and with my tour starting, I’m not going to be around much for ages. I just wanted to do something special for you,” he mumbled into your hair as he held you tight.

You felt a pang in your chest at the expression in his voice. Harry had so much going on all the time, you didn’t want him to be worrying about you. Especially when he was away on tour. He always tended to stress over whether or not you were okay when he was away from you, to the point where it would take a toll on him.

“Well, thank you but I don’t want you to stress over me. Not this time, okay? I’m okay, I always have been. And if anything happens while you’re on tour, you’ll be the first person I call,” you give him a smile to try and cover your lie. If you let him know that one thing is wrong with you, he will never stop thinking that you’re not okay. You don’t want him to be stressing over you when he’s supposed to be having the time of his life on tour.

“Okay, I won’t freak out this time,” he gives your hand a squeeze. “Why are you home from work early anyway?” his brow furrowed.

“Oh, I just felt a bit sick but I’m sure it’s nothing,” you give him your best reassuring smile, not wanting to make him start worrying all over again.

“Sick how?” he held you at arm’s length so he could look you over for any signs of unwellness.

“It was just some cramps and nausea, but it’s not as bad now,” you lied yet again. The smell of the sauce cooking behind you made you feel sick to your stomach, you felt as though someone was smashing you in the head with a hammer and you wouldn’t be surprised to look down and find a knife in your right side, your cramps were that bad.

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There’s no “I” in Team (Kidney, edited)

All of the suggested revisions were made and a lot of my own revisions were added. Also this fic is supposed to play out like an episode of Grey’s Anatomy (not super realistic logistic timeline wise or medicine wise). 

It started with the itching. It felt like a bad sunburn a couple of days in, like there was a layer of skin on top of his skin. He had mentioned it in passing to his Mami, but she had just taken it as an opportunity to tell him about the importance of sunscreen, even though it was mid January. “Stop wearing wool.”She suggested, “Use a different laundry detergent. Oh, and don’t use fabric softener, it can irritate your skin.” About a week later a large basket filled with expensive bath products arrived on the front door of the Haus, but no amount of salt scrubs or exfoliating brushes or shea cocoa oatmeal ultra moisturizing cream stopped the itch. “Maybe you have eczema? I’ll call the doctor and see if he can get you in over spring break.” His Mami suggested an oatmeal bath for the fourth time in one phone call so he shouts a couple of “I love yous” and hangs up the phone.

Unfortunately even the medicated eczema cream his mother mailed in didn’t seem to work.   Nursey couldn’t sit for more than five minutes without scratching incessantly at his skin. Even on the ice, he would shift uncomfortably in his pads, missing passes and ignoring Dex’s angry shouts as he tried not jump out of his own skin. He had begged Chowder and Farmer and bribed them with Reese’s peanut butter cups until they agreed to help scratch every inch of his body.

He was exhausted all the time, barely alert or awake enough to even acknowledge Dex’s chirps. He writes it off as normal college student exhaustion, with his late nights, early morning hockey practices and excessive coffee consumption.  But he barely slept at night, tossing and turning in the bottom bunk and more than once Dex forces him to move to the toxic green couch. He can barely fall asleep because of the itch and once he falls asleep its restless and light and he wakes up to dark nail streaks all over is skin.

  Then it was the swollen legs and arms. Nursey was naturally more muscular, but Bitty had shouted when Nursey shed his pads after practice on Friday and revealed horribly swollen legs, arms and feet.  Bitty had poked and prodded before shoving Nursey towards Coach Hall who immediately advised Nursey to go to the student health center. Nursey had brushed them off, claiming he had a paper due that night that he couldn’t waste the time ( “I have a poetry midterm next week, I can’t waste any potential study time.”)

So later that night when Nursey and Dex were huddled in their room, each typing away on their respective computers was when the situation had finally dramatically escalated. Nursey had been complaining about nausea since dinner, but now he was rushing to the bathroom with both hands over his mouth. He can hear his Mami’s voice nagging in his head “Too much caffeine will upset your stomach.” It’s stress, it’s just stress, just calm down. He tries to coach himself through it to no avail.

The little bit of rice and saltines he had managed to get down was coming back up and he retched loudly enough to alert Chowder. He felt the warmth of Chowder’s hands rubbing circles into his back and vaguely heard the goalie calling out to Bitty. He was retching uncontrollably and his body was seizing with every wave of nausea but nothing was coming up, and Chowder smoothed a hand over the back of Nursey’s neck and shoulders. When his was finally able to stop retching Chowder pulled him up again his chest and someone else (Dex maybe?) grabbed his feet and maneuvered him down the stairs and into the back of Bitty’s small four door.

“Where are we going?” His own voice sounded slurred and muffled to his ears as another wave of nausea hit.

“The emergency room.” Chowder was still rubbing soft circles into his back and Dex reached back to pat his knee before relaying the directions to Bitty.

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Business and Pleasure - Part 13

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: 1,413

Warnings: Swearing


Originally posted by naih-reedus


“Y/N Barnes?” the nurse’s voice, however kind it may have seemed to everyone else in the room, sent shivers down your spine. You weren’t ready for this. You didn’t want to be here. In fact, you could think of several places you’d rather be at the moment, but you tried to keep a neutral expression as you stood.

“Do you want me to come in with you? Or I can just wait out here. Whichever you’d prefer.” Steve asked, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Nodding, you squeezed back tightly, “Please. I feel like I’m either going to puke. Or pass out. Maybe both. I don’t really know.”


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doctor pepper ❖ baekhyun

admin : - velvet

genre : just plain love, sweetheart byun baekhyun and his cheeky smile, doctor!au, smut (on the next part)

(gif not mine, cr to the owner)

| Part 2


Watch out, Y/N!❞ someone shouted from the basketball field.

You were - as always - seated on the large stairs, waiting for your best friend Sehun to finish his basketball practice, your art book in hands and the pencil between your fingers, ready to complete the survey that Mr Do left to do for homeworks.

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colossalcryptid  asked:

(1/2) In elementary school, when I was around 9 or 10, I started presenting symptoms of asthma. Hadn't had any issues before then, but one day in gym class I had an asthma attack. It wasn't so severe that it put me in danger, but it was scary (as not being able to breathe tends to be) and prompted the nurse to call my parents. My dad said "she doesn't have asthma" and we went home. The first time I saw a doctor about it at all was when I was 13, and he diagnosed me with an Anxiety Attack

2/2) I was only 13 but I nearly argued with this grown man because I thought that sounded like absolute bullshit. We saw one more doctor after that, I forget if it was my PCP or not, but I was finally Officially diagnosed with asthma after 3 years of being completely untreated and several asthma attacks. Since then I’ve been scared of being brushed off or not taken seriously by doctors, and I’ve watched my friends (all women) deal with being treated poorly or brushed off as well. It’s scary.



It’s god damn terrifying the level of medical neglect that happens to female bodied patients, especially those of us with chronic conditions. When I was home I wet to see my NHS doctor and have started the laborious process of having the diagnosis of “bulimia” and “ednos” removed from my file, because, as I knew all along, I don’t have an eating disorder. 

I do have a problematic relationship with food because it makes me ill due to severe allergies, but I don’t suffer from the other defining characteristics of an eating disorder. But, y’know, I’m a woman, so these issues with food must be purely psychological…why else would they keep me heavily sedated and put me through rehabilitation for 7 years trying to convince me that I was making myself sick, when in actual fact I was going into mild to steadily worsening anaphylalctic shock several times a week for over two decades which was quite literally killing me from the strain on my body…who knew? Not my doctors that’s for sure. They just upped my sedative prescription whenever I complained of more pain and told me sweetly, “it’s just nerves, you need to calm down.” And this wasn’t just one doctor, this was several specialists across the board over many, many years. But they all had one definite trait in common. They were all male. And they were angry that I kept challenging their diagnosis.

They didn’t even offer anti-depressants. Just a sedative. It was literally a case of “shut up and go away you hysterical female”. 

Which isn’t to say it hasn’t happened over here too with private care. 

I presented in the ER with chest pain and not being able to breathe and the attending physician saw “anxiety” in my file (which by the way, has gotten better since I’ve started to get my allergies under control. I’m still fucking nuts, but at least I know I’m sane about it), didn’t bother to do a physical, and prescribed a sleeping pill, while talking over the top of my head to my husband about how “some women can be quite anxious”. I thought ETD was going to murder him with his own stethoscope. But instead he advocated for me and pushed for an EKG, and exam where the doctor put his stethoscope to my chest but didn’t actually listen and said “you’re fine”. The following day my female PCP, in a tower of fury screamed “oh my god I think you’re having an asthma attack, didn’t he listen to your chest?!” and started me on a course of medication. She was wrong about it being asthma, but it was allergies causing my airways to close, so she was closer to the mark than “your wimmin parts are making you hysterical, here is a sedative”. 

Which is why I now bring ETD with me to all new medical appointments. I shouldn’t need my husband there to verify my pain and symptoms, but that’s the way this world of ours works.

When I handed over my US doctor’s diagnosis and treatment plan, the (new) doctor I saw in the UK went ashen, his skin literally went grey the more he kept reading and then he looked up at me and said “why didn’t anyone test you for any of this?!” to which the reply was to smile sweetly like poison and reply, “apparently it was just nerves.”

I thought he was going to throw up when I told him about my teeth problems. I didn’t even get to the part about potential mercury poisoning, I just got to “which was when they did the root canal without anesthesia” and he demanded to know how I could be expected to cope with such pain, to which I glanced again towards my medical file at his fingertips and was able to say with complete honesty: “Practice”. 

I’m 100% convinced if I’d just had a single doctor who listened to me when I was 12 when I said “this is making me throw up”, I wouldn’t be in the situation I am now. Even at 15, if someone had listened to me sobbing “but I’m not making myself throw up I’m not, I’m not I promise” as they put me into a “special wing” in the hospital, I wouldn’t be in the situation I am now. 

But then I’m also 100% certain if I was born with a dick instead of a uterus, none of this would have ever happened. And not because my illness(es) itself doesn’t affect male bodied people. 

But hey ho…can’t be bitter about it…cause then you get all the Positive Thinkers telling you you’re Keeping yourself sick, which, y’know, always nice to be gaslighted by the internet for not being a ray of fucking sunshine they can wank off to for their Positiviity Porn along with “tragic event happens but some fucker makes it about them” and “it could be worse you know”.