#userglow
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hi hello could i maybe get "I don’t wanna die this way" for lone star? please hurt me however u choose
Hello^^ you certainly can 😌🌸
Don’t want to (die) | Marjan Marwani
Canon; A call goes awry and no one was expecting this outcome
Prompt: “I don’t wanna die this way”
Word count: 1515
CW: mentions of dying and medical emergencies
Send me prompts from the Penelope Scott lyrics list
***
It’s not a call that Michelle was ever expecting to get, or maybe it was something she just prayed would never happen. No amount of manifesting would prevent this, though, and Owen’s frantic tone over the radio had her heart dropping.
“Ladder 126, EMS needed immediately at our position,” Michelle wasn’t prepared for the words that followed, “Code 26.”
Injured firefighter, EMS required.
That had Nancy rushing for their bags from the rig, throwing them on the gurney as quickly as she could. Michelle was already running ahead, calling back for Tim to stay there and look after their patients, her own bag bouncing against her thigh with every movement. She cursed under her breath as she stumbled, worry for her crew clouding her awareness. Code 26, not an uncommon code in this line of work but certainly not one she had heard for a while. The last time she did must have been when TK was shot, which had been a whole other kind of chaos.
“Who?” she didn’t have any time for panic as she tried to depersonalize from it all, a hand falling on Judd’s shoulder to get his attention. The man looked at her through his visor, worry etched into his face as he pointed to where most of the crew was crowding around. This was just supposed to be a normal fire response, a small apartment complex with a fire on the third floor, and she was sure everyone had evacuated on time. She was only gone from the main scene for ten minutes, helping parents find their children and checking people for smoke inhalation and minor burns. They hadn’t had a firefighter injury in a while, this was such a minor scene she wasn’t sure how it had even happened. Judd seemed to be questioning the same thing but she didn’t have the time to consider how much his memories were haunting him at that moment.
“Marjan…”
Nancy had caught up with her by then and she nudged her Captain forward, though when their eyes met Michelle could tell she was just as worried. She could feel the pit of anxiety gnawing away at her stomach, her friend’s life at risk here. Still, they had to be smart about this, Marjan needed them and they would have to wait to feel later.
“Captain,” Michelle bounded over to the others, “What happened?”
Owen turned to look at her, standing up properly from his previously crouched position. Mateo was on the ground, looking like anxiety incarnate, and beside him was Marjan. Laying on the sooty asphalt with her turnout coat nowhere to be found and she looked worse for wear. Instead, her long sleeve was exposed and Michelle could see blood seeping from somewhere and covering the white fabric in a nauseating amount. She was on the ground with them in seconds, leaning over Marjan before Owen had even managed to speak.
“The ceiling,” it was TK who spoke instead, “She went back to get a kid… the building was unstable.”
“Someone decided it was a brilliant idea to take off her coat and cover the kid with it,” Judd interjected, “The smoke was disorienting and we couldn’t get to her in time. The lobby ceiling fell.”
Michelle was nodding but all of her attention was on Marjan, shining her penlight in her eyes and sighing when her pupils reacted properly. The woman in question was watching her weakly, her breathing unsteady but she was still alert enough to know what was going on. There didn’t seem to be any head or facial trauma, which was a relief, but her main worry was her abdomen.
“BP is high and she’s tachy,” Nancy told her as she leaned over with a stethoscope to confirm, speaking gently to Marjan before she did anything. Michelle was glad Nancy was there, her caring nature always helping to soothe their patients.
“Marjan, let me know if this hurts, okay?” She didn’t lift her shirt for the sake of her privacy and instead palpated the injured area over the soaked fabric. The gentle pressure had her crying out almost immediately, arms jerking up to cover her stomach. It was very un-Marjan like in nature, since she was always fearless and hated to seem weak. Michelle apologized gently but her concern was only rising with that reaction.
“Abdominal guarding and tenderness,” she turned to TK, “What fell on her?”
“A chair from the upper hallway along with a large chunk of the ceiling.”
“Damn,” she looked to Nancy again, “Notify the nearest hospital that we have an incoming patient with blunt force abdominal trauma. Looks like a couple broken lower ribs and I’m worried about her spleen.”
“Alright.”
“Request a female trauma surgeon if possible,” she added before looking back down at Marjan, “You with me, Mar?”
Never one to appear weak even on death’s door, Marjan nodded as much as she could, “Mhm.”
“Anything else hurt right now?”
“How a-about eve-everything…” she let out a shaky laugh, which only made her wince as it jostled her ribcage. That only solidified Michelle’s assumption about fractured ribs, which usually caused a rupture of the spleen in cases like this. She hadn’t seen anything pressing during her secondary assessment but she was worried about other internal injuries or shock setting in too fast.
“We’re going to get you on the backboard then, okay?” she motioned for Mateo to stand and grabbed the board from on top of the gurney, passing it over to Paul so he could slide it under her from his side. She crouched by her shoulder, catching her attention again.
“We’re going to roll you onto your side, you know the drill.”
The transfer was painful for everyone, with Marjan unable to hide her agony at being moved in such a way. They hated seeing her like this, knowing they were only causing her more pain, but it was necessary. She cried out as they slid the board under her body, allowing Michelle a second to check for any injuries on her back. Getting her up onto the gurney was less of an event, though her stats had dropped enough in the move for Nancy to get worried.
“Captain Blake,” she said, “BP dropped and O2 stats in the 80’s.”
“Okay, we need to get going, I’ll run oxygen in the bus.”
With that they transferred her across the parking lot, back to the safe area that had been designated for the civilians to gather. Tim was waiting among them, rushing over to ask what had happened. Michelle was preoccupied with talking to Owen, trying to tell him as simply as she could how her prognosis looked.
“She’ll need a CT to confirm but I think there’s a good chance her spleen ruptured,” she told him, “I know you needed to move her from the building but I do hope you all didn’t jostle her too much.”
“We were as careful as possible but I couldn’t risk anyone getting trapped,” he rubbed a hand over his face, “Take care of our girl, Michelle.”
“We’ve got her,” with that she hoisted herself into the back of the ambulance, beside Nancy who was already getting the oxygen mask situated for Marjan. Tim checked from the front to make sure they were ready and then started the rig, lights and sirens on the second they pulled out of the parking lot.
Michelle busied herself with starting an IV in her arm, knowing she would need fluids if they wanted to keep her stats relatively stable. Her oxygenation had improved but her blood pressure was still worrying, not to mention how thready her pulse seemed when Michelle pressed her fingers to her wrist momentarily. That was never a good sign, especially with the way her eyes unfocused and her response to stimuli had decreased.
“Marjan,” she leaned a bit closer to meet her glassy eyes, “You stay awake for me.”
“T-trying…” she murmured, “Hurts.”
“I know,” looking at her crewmate she asked for a dose of morphine that would hopefully help until they got her to the ER. Nancy administered the painkiller as quickly as she could, reminding Marjan that she was doing well and they would get her help.
When the other woman leaned towards the front to ask Tim about their ETA, Marjan reached out weakly. She caught Michelle’s hand, making the EMT look at her with concern.
“I-” she took a shaky breath and tried to blink away the tears that clouded her vision, “I don’t w-wanna… die this way.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Michelle told her firmly, “We’ve got you. You never let anything stop you before, Marjan, you can get through this.”
“M… Michelle?”
“I’m right here, Mar.”
“I-” her sentence never finished as the firefighter’s eyes rolled back slowly, unable to properly hear Michelle’s words of panic as she noticed what was happening. Marjan tried to stay alert, she really did, but the pain was too much. She felt like she was suffocating, the heavy weight in her abdomen slowly radiating up her body. She could feel hands on her, knew Michelle was with her, but she couldn’t focus. The only thing she was aware of was the aggressive beeping of the monitor that preceded her descent into unconsciousness.
#:)))#who wants to block me after this one#I do <3#this is unedited but it’s almost 3 am#911 ls#911 lone star#marjan marwani#michelle blake#owen strand#tk strand#paul strickland#judd ryder#mateo chavez#nancy gillian#tim rosewater#cj add this to your fic masterpost#asks#mutuals#firefighterstrand#userglow
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day 27 - wind
suicide tw
Sarah hasn’t been up to the terrace on the tenth floor for almost a year, not since Jason jumped.
But she’s there now, just a few feet from the edge, staring across at the city as she imagines Jason did. She thinks about him a lot, even though everyone else seems to have moved on. She thinks about his life, about how he had so much potential as a doctor, and how if someone had noticed he was drowning, maybe he’d still be here. That thought haunts her.
Most of all though, she wonders what his last moments were like. Did he look out at Chicago one last time the way she’s doing now? Or did he step off without a second thought? She thinks - hopes - he was at peace as he fell, but she can’t be sure, and it’s the not knowing that eats away at her.
There’s a strong wind up there, bitter like on the day Jason died, and it bites at her face until her cheeks are numb and she can’t move her mouth. Her hands are shoved in her pockets, and she knows without looking that her nails will be blue by now.
Even so, she stays out, and moves closer to the edge, to the little wall stopping her from falling a hundred feet to her death on the concrete below. It would be so easy, she thinks, and suddenly she’s balancing on the wall, tears streaming down her face from the cold and her heart pounding at the thought of what could happen.
Her toes are hanging over the edge when her pager goes off, and she almost loses her footing at the sudden noise. She remembers Jason, or what she saw of him, the blood pooled under the sheet and splattered on the sidewalk, and wonders if that would ever be her.
Someday, maybe, but not today. She climbs back over the wall, planting her feet firmly on the ground, then looks around to check if anyone saw. The conference room is empty, and there’s no one by the elevators. It’s just her up there, alone as the wind blows her hair around her face and stings her cheeks, and she wants to cry at how much everything hurts.
She doesn’t though, can’t. Instead, she goes back down to the ED, to a job she doesn’t feel anything for anymore, to treat patients who are worse off than her, who actually need help. Later, she’ll go home with Ava, and while they’re eating takeout in front of the TV, she’ll fail to mention that she almost followed in Jason’s footsteps, that this was the closest she’s ever got. She’ll laugh at Ava’s jokes, and hold her while she sleeps, and never let on that the ache in her chest is so deep it feels like it’s splitting her in two.
Maybe it would have been easier if she’d jumped.
#chicago med#sarah reese#nosdecember#userglow#writing#mine#suicide tw#idk how I feel about the ending lmao#novwrites
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Introducing the Carlos Whump Bingo!
This bingo card is free to use WITH CREDIT for any medium- fic, gif, art, etc. Any amount of participation, even one small thing for one square counts.
I am currently accepting prompts for this bingo as well with the goal of blackout. Use #carloswhumpbingo so we can all see, and feel free to tag me via @prettyboyreyes or #userglow as well.
(url was lesbotaylor, changed to prettyboyreyes. This bingo card was still created by me)
(Join my server!)
#carlos reyes#carlos reyes edit#911 lone star#911ls#911lsedit#tuserjamie#userjillian#reyeslonestartag#usermehr#mothcow#emedit#carloswhumpbingo#emevent
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Discrepancy | Disability!AU
Heres’s a short run down of the important points about my new Marjan AU 🥰
CW: medical talk, surgeries
Marjan was born with a leg length discrepancy (LLD)
(this is inspired by her actress Natacha Karam’s own story )
This means her right leg was much shorter than her left, an issue that was caught soon after she should have started crawling but couldn’t stay balanced and wouldn’t put weight on her knee
The doctors originally thought she would grow into it, since some babies are just lopsided, but she never did
X-rays and an MRI showed that Marjan was actually missing one ligament in her knee and another was considerably weak
On top of that, her right leg was more than 3 inches shorter than her left, which was only worsening as she went through her biggest growth spurt as an infant
This caused issues with her knee, hip, and spine because she had to alter the way she crawled and eventually walked
Over the course of her childhood, Marjan endured countless surgeries and hours upon hours of physiotherapy
She was wheelchair bound for much of her early adolescence and often needed forearm crutches when she was walking
Her surgeries included breaking bones and realigning them, lengthening of her femur, surgeries on her tendons and ligaments, and multiple plate and rod insertions for support
At home, school, and within her childhood mosque, Marjan was coddled and treated like glass
She hated this, as all she wanted to do was be “normal” and play with the other kids
But she was often stuck with the adults and kept away from games and trips to protect her
That didn’t stop Marjan from trying to run and play but unfortunately this caused more problems
On top of being called disobedient and reprimanded for “acting out”, a few times Marjan had tried to play soccer or roller skating with her friends had ended in accidents
She ended up tearing her weakened MCL ligament when she was playing soccer at 12 years old
This was excruciating and she was in the hospital for a week after a surgery to repair it
Marjan was always told she had to be good and think about her future; she could look forward to being with Salim and having a life with him
Honestly they just hoped she would settled down and pace herself so she could hopefully have children safely in the future (though her weak hip made this unlikely unless she was to have a caesarian)
Marjan didn’t want that
Since she was 13, she dreamed to become a firefighter
She was told that was impossible, she couldn’t even walk for more than an hour without needing her crutches, and it was far too dangerous
But Marjan pushed it because that was everything she wanted in life
She worked so hard in physiotherapy, started discussing surgeries and treatment plans with her surgeon the second she could go to appointments alone as a teen, she worked on her upper body and core strength like crazy to compensate for her leg weakness
Despite all the doubts and her parents’ dislike for the idea, Marjan made it through the academy and became a kickass firefighter
She also started roller derby in Miami at 21, regardless of the huge risk it posed in comparison to non-contact sports
She was doing everything she ever wanted and she couldn’t slow down
So when Owen Strand offered her a place at the 126, she thought about it for a while
This was a chance to make her mark somewhere else, away from the pitiful looks and coddling
People in Austin wouldn’t have to know about her LLD, she could be seen as able bodied and capable as long as she was careful
So she made the move and it was perfect
The department did inform Owen about her disability and the implications/risks of her being out on calls because they had to
But Marjan made him swear to keep it between them
She wants to be the best firefighter she can be and she already feels like people doubt her so the last thing she needs is to appear weak around her new crew
But some days are worse than others and after a few months it becomes clear that keeping something so major a secret might not be as easy as she thought
#my aus#marjan marwani#911 ls#911 lone star#discrepancy#disability!au#userglow#userthai#userjillian#usermaximus#tuserjamie#cj add this to your fic masterpost#crockettstiddies
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Discrepancy | Disability!AU
I have never let this dictate who I am as a person and there’s no way in Hell it will change how good of a firefighter I am
#new au new au#cj’s a clown#but natacha’s story about her LLD gave me Marjan inspiration#🥰#marjan marwani#911 ls#911 lone star#my aus#discrepancy#disability!au#my moodboards#userglow#userjillian#usermaximus#crockettstiddies#userthai#tuserjamie
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Act now, feel later | Marjan Marwani
Canon storyline; Marjan runs into trouble when the crew isn’t there to help
CW: Car accidents, injury, stitches mention, blood/medical gore
For @neworleansspecial’s 911 Lone Star premiere flash event
***
“Look out, Austin, we’re in for another storm this weekend! The forecast is calling for 35 mile per hour winds and heavy rain; time to postpone those family barbecues.”
The radio host’s words made Marjan sigh, it didn’t rain often in Austin but when it did it was always an event. She imagined it would be a long weekend, the rain already coming down enough that it was obstructing her vision. She had left home early that morning for that exact reason, assuming the highways would be a bit backed up due to the weather.
Backed up would be an understatement, though, because it took Marjan about 15 extra minutes to get through a jammed road. She was just turning the corner of a quieter backroad, one she had started to use as a shortcut to work after Mateo showed it to her, when she came across an unexpected sight. It had her slamming on her brakes, throwing her car into park without a thought. Swinging the door open, she called out and hoped she would get a response.
Across the road, balanced precariously on the shoulder, was a minivan. The front half of the vehicle was pretty crushed, rammed into a tree like it had been the one thing to stop it from rolling further off the road. There was another car stopped and someone was waving her over, their replies barely heard over the rain pelleting the ground. Marjan felt her heart sink as she got closer to them, hearing the terrified cries of a child from within the vehicle.
“Did you call 911?” she asked the man standing there, who looked just as worried as Marjan felt. She had just barely had the forethought to grab her small first aid kit from the backseat, though she guessed it wouldn’t be much help in this situation.
“Y-yes,” he looked alarmed when she immediately thrust the kit into his hands, dropping to her knees in front of the flipped vehicle. She winced at the wet feeling seeping through the fabric of her pants as she kneeled on the cold asphalt, hoping she wouldn’t accidentally catch some glass in the process. She leaned towards the shattered driver’s side window first, peeking in at the driver.
“Sir, can you hear me?”
She could see that the man had a head wound that was bleeding profusely, hoping it wasn’t as bad as it looked. He stuttered out a reply and looked as if he was going to turn to look at her, which had Marjan reaching in to stop his movement.
“Don’t move,” she said quickly, “You might have a head injury. Can you take a deep breath for me? I’m a firefighter, okay, I’m going to try to help you.”
“Are… m-my kids..?”
“How many kids were in the car, sir?”
“Two,” he replied, “Elliot is five… Isla is one. God, please... tell me they’re okay.”
Marjan told him to stay put, asking the man who was watching idly to ensure the father didn’t move until EMS arrived. She had heard whimpering in the back seat while she was talking to him, and the cries from earlier had been from another voice. That told her both kids were still alive, though she wasn’t sure in what shape.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, the back door would not open. Grunting a little under her breath, Marjan gave up after a second and went around to the other side of the car. She managed to get the passenger side sliding door of the vehicle opened a bit, though it took her a good two minutes of forcing it open.
“Elliot? Can you hear me?’
“D-dad?”
“Your dad is in the front seat, sweetie,” Marjan answered, “My name is Marjan, I’m going to help you out so you can see him, okay?”
“O-okay…”
“Is Isla okay?” Marjan asked, trying to keep the boy talking as she shimmied into the van. She could see him by that point but the toddler’s seat was rear facing, obstructing her view of the other baby. Elliot’s face was tearstained and had a few cuts but he was surprisingly alert, which was reassuring. Sniffling, he glanced over at his sister.
“She’s sleeping.”
That had Marjan pursing her lips, whispering a little prayer for Allah to protect this baby while they waited to get them out. A quiet baby was never good in an accident, especially since she had heard Isla crying when she had gotten out of her own car, which made her silence deafening. She was close enough to reach out to Elliot, wincing a bit when she felt something dig into her arm. Marjan probably should have been more careful but the searing pain barely registered as all she wanted to do was check on the kids.
“Does anything hurt?”
“A-arm. Head ouchie too, where’s daddy?”
“I’m going to get you out to see him,” she promised, “Can you unbuckle your seatbelt for me?”
As Elliot fiddled with his seatbelt, his injured arm clutched to his chest, Marjan reached across to check on Isla. She craned her neck, seeing the toddler was indeed unconscious like her brother said. Her dark hair was in her eyes, no sign of blood but she was unresponsive to touch. Pressing on the inside of her elbow, Marjan couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when she felt a rapid pulse through the baby’s sleeve. She was just about to ask Elliot if he was ready to go when she heard a familiar voice.
“Marjan?”
It was TK, his face appearing from the other side of the car as he glanced through the shattered window. His helmet hid his face partially but he looked concerned to say the least, trying to wrench the other door open so he could help her.
“TK, I have never been more happy to see that pretty face of yours,” she let out a shaky laugh to ease her own nerves, “That door is jammed. Elliot here says his arm and head hurts but he seems pretty okay otherwise. I have an unresponsive toddler over here, she has a pulse but I’m worried about head trauma.”
“Okay,” TK disappeared from the window and she just barely heard him shouting to the crew over the sirens. She hadn’t even registered the sounds around her until TK said something, before her whole mind had been intent on keeping these kids alive until someone got there. She felt a hand on her shoulder, glancing behind her to see her captain in his full gear looking at her incredulously.
“We wondered why you were late,” Owen said, “Can you get to the kids?”
“I think I can reach Isla, she’s strapped into a rear-facing harness seat so it might take a minute. Elliot could climb out from the other side if someone helps him or gets that door open.”
“Copy that,” she heard Paul’s voice from where TK had been moments before, gloved hand making sure there was no glass sticking out from the already destroyed window. With the others actively taking care of the rest of the family, Marjan could focus on the baby in front of her. She was still breathing, thankfully, but she didn’t stir when Marjan started yanking at the straps of her carseat. She tried to work quickly, loosening them enough to get the buckle undone. It was a tight squeeze in the vehicle, with the side airbags having gone off and glass and metal littering every free space. She eventually got the seat undone, shimmying even closer to pick up the baby without jostling her body too much.
“I got her,” she called out, trying to carefully shift backwards so she didn’t move Isla too much. She wasn’t sure why the toddler was unconscious but a head injury was as good a guess as any, so the less movement the better. Glancing behind her, Marjan stepped out of the van and almost bumped into TK who appeared behind her.
“She okay?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, “Where’s medical?”
He led her to where Tim had parked the rig, Elliot already wrapped in a blanket and sitting on the seat across from his dad. The man had a C-collar on but was babbling away to Nancy, probably asking about his daughter. Michelle met them halfway, taking the baby from Marjan, who was a bit reluctant to let go.
“One year old female, unconscious and tachycardic,” she breathed as she followed after the paramedic, worried. She stumbled a bit as her foot caught a downed branch, “She was conscious when I got here but went quiet soon after.”
“We’ve got her,” Michelle promised as Rosewater took the infant from her to check her stats properly, “Marjan?”
She looked up, brow furrowing at Michelle’s concerned look. She wanted to ask why she wasn’t helping with the patients, instead she gestured for the firefighter to follow her to the side of the rig. A bit more sheltered from the rain, Marjan looked at her quizzically. The other woman reached out to grab gently at her arm, apologizing when she yelped a little.
“You’re bleeding.”
True enough, Marjan’s sleeve was ripped up her forearm and the side of her arm was bleeding. Upon further inspection, she winced when she noticed a particularly sharp piece of glass protruding from the wound. She hadn’t really felt it before, adrenaline running too high, but now that it had been pointed out she was aware of her pain. It stung, a lot, and she imagined it would be a nuisance at work that day. She blinked harshly against the raindrops that had started obscuring her vision, trying to look at Michelle for answers as she surveyed the wound.
“You’ll need quite a few stitches,” she said matter-of-factly, “Can I take the glass out and wrap it until then? The last thing I need is you bleeding out on me.”
Marjan wanted to protest, to claim she was fine because she could feel the crew watching. It's not that she thought they’d judge her, of course not, it was just that she hated appearing weak. She didn’t want them to worry about her or ask if she was okay, to her that would be embarrassing. It was a pride thing, which was shameful to even admit to herself. Still, she felt herself getting a bit dizzy, using her good arm to grab onto Michelle for stability. Her adrenaline was crashing, now that the victims were all safe and being taken care of.
“Careful,” Michelle’s voice was soft like always, “C’mon.”
Accepting the help, Marjan let herself be led to the other ambulance, not bothered by the hand Michelle kept on her back to steady her. She was attentive, always was, and Marjan was grateful for that. The one person besides Paul who saw through her confident façade was the paramedic, who more often than not would stop to ask her how she was doing before she left.
Aside from the fact that she was an adrenaline junkie, it was clear to Michelle that saving people was the reason she did things without considering her own safety sometimes. She knew Marjan got a bit more emotionally attached to calls than she wanted to admit, which was the cause of her frequent insubordination and fearlessness. She was desperate to help people and not afraid to put her own life on the line for it. The firefighter felt so much but didn’t let herself show it, which often led to her crashing when everyone else had gone home.
Alone in the back of the rig, Michelle pulled on a pair of gloves as she sat across from her. Watching idly, Marjan wasn’t as prepared as she thought for the pain she would feel. It was burning, feeling like she was ripping her skin open more with a smouldering blade. This was a time where she wished she had been wearing her gear, the thick jacket would have prevented this wound all together. With one quick move of the forceps, Michelle pulled out the glass with a gentle apology. Pressing a piece of gauze to the wound to staunch the blood, she looked at the other woman seriously.
“You’ll come to the hospital with us and get this looked after,” she used her free hand to grab the bottle of sterile saline from the shelf, “And then you’ll take the day off.”
“Michelle, I-”
“No arguments, Mar,” the nickname was said sternly but she knew there was affection behind it, “You helped them, let yourself be helped now.”
Marjan couldn’t help but squeak a little as the saline burned when it came in contact with her wound. She felt tears sting her eyes, much to her chagrin, and just nodded when Michelle looked at her again. She didn’t want to cry, even though she was sure it would be warranted given her discomfort. Gritting her teeth, she tried to keep her tone even.
“Okay…” She watched idly as Michelle packed the wound, winding sterile gauze around it with practiced ease. She was being gentle, probably worried about her accidentally passing out. After the excitement of a call wore off and the pain set it, injured first responders would often hide their discomfort until their bodies couldn’t take it anymore. What with the way she had been dizzy and the slight tremor of Marjan’s hands, Michelle wanted to keep an eye on her and maybe check her blood pressure. When she was done with the wound care, she patted Marjan’s knee and studied her pained expression for a second.
“Hey, you did well; even if going in there on your own was foolish.” Her tone was half teasing as she continued, “You’ve played the hero enough today, now let me take care of you.”
#yes the slight Marchelle was necessary#<3#me: i love this character very very much so i will hurt her in my writing#:)#anyway this is the first time I’ve written for 911ls so apologies for it being out of character a bit#my-writing#911 ls#911 lone star#911ls#not med#mutuals#neworleansspecial#userglow#marjan marwani#michelle blake#marchelle#tk strand#owen strand#911 lone star fanfiction#911 lone star fic
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discrepency + dizzy -milkymarj
Dizzy | Discrepancy
Disability!AU; pain can be incredibly disorienting, especially if one pushes through it.
Word count: 1205
Prompt: dizzy
CW: pain, syncope/fainting
@milkymarjan
***
Hindsight is always 20/20, unfortunately, and Marjan tends to learn that the hard way. Realistically she knows better, yet every time she pushes herself too far she finds herself frustrated with her body’s limits. She shouldn’t still hurt like this, she reasons with herself, it shouldn’t be this hard.
She said that but she knew it was the opposite in reality. She already did things doctors told her she would never be capable of doing, and she did them on the daily. That comes with clear risks, of course, but Marjan didn’t worry about them. Not in the moment, anyway, because all she really wanted to do was help people. She was in it for the fulfilment of her childhood dream and the need to help others, though she would also admit the adrenaline rush is pretty great too.
Marjan should be more careful, it's what her parents and friends back home tell her constantly. They’d seen all her videos and the risks are evident but Marjan never listened too hard. She’s Firefox for goodness’ sake, one doesn’t go viral by being careful or by being treated like glass. That's what she told them every time and it's what Owen needs to be reminded every time he expresses his concern. She knew they nag because they’re worried but she’s 25; one would think Marjan could take care of herself by that point.
That’s what she muttered to her captain when he nudged her on their way back to the rig. She was limping, she could feel it in the way her body instinctively favoured her right side. Something wasn’t right and Marjan knew that but she had hoped no one would notice. Usually capitan Strand was too preoccupied with his own thing to really notice, but that wasn’t the case on this day.
“Marwani, you okay?” His voice was lowered, thankfully, and Owen waited until Paul had gone off to help Mateo with the hose before he spoke. They had an agreement that Marjan would keep him updated on her condition so long as he didn’t let the rest of the squad know. Considering the amount of things he kept a secret from his son in the past, she hoped he could apply that to the whole 126 this time around.
“Fine, Cap,” she answered as she went to hoist herself back into the truck, trying to hide her flinch when she leaned too much on her leg.
“Marjan.”
“Just a strain,” she promised, settling down in the seat she usually claimed. A quick glance out the other window told her the others were coming into the rig. Giving Owen a look, Marjan went to fiddle with her seatbelt in an attempt to avoid eye contact, hoping he would take the hint. Marjan didn’t need the concern and she certainly didn’t want the rest of her crew to know anything was wrong. Nothing was wrong, after all; or at least that’s what she told herself.
Even still, she had to admit paying attention to any conversation was extremely difficult. Actually, Marjan was having a hard time focusing in general, her brain feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. All she could think about was the amount of screaming pain her leg was in at that point, the ligaments in her knee being particularly bothered. Any movement sent harsh tugging motions through the connective tissue, making Marjan grit her teeth and hide her flinch as the rig came to a less than gentle stop in the station.
She was the last one out of the truck, pretending to fix her scarf and tugging on her undercap a bit. The boys didn’t bother her or look in her direction whenever she did that, something she was always grateful for. In that situation it gave her some time to have them disappear to shower or change, leaving Marjan mostly alone so she could relax for a moment.
That was the idea, anyway, but it was easier said than done. Even after sitting and trying to relax her muscles for a moment, Marjan could only feel pain. A gentle hand pressing on the back of her knee through her gear felt like she was being hit with a baseball bat, causing her to stifle a pained sound. She had to stand up, though, because her staying in the rig for this long was already a cause for concern.
Holding onto the handle for support, Marjan lowered herself out of the seat, praying she didn’t fall off the step with how unstable she felt. Her head was spinning, an uncomfortably familiar sensation caused by her adamance to push through the pain. Even as she tried to regain her footing, she knew she pushed herself too far this time.
She had declined Paul’s offer to be the one to rappel into that building, insisting it was her turn and hooking her harness to the rigging system before he could argue. She had been fine all day, through the walking and heavy gear and even while carrying a little boy out of a house fire. She miscalculated her stability during the rappel down, though, and a stumble when going to break a second floor window with her boots had her knee buckling. The initial pain was bad but the aftermath made it feel like a pinprick in comparison. She wasn’t sure what she had done but the way she had to grit her teeth with every bend of her knee told Marjan it was way more than just a strain.
“Marjan?” Mateo was behind her all of a sudden, a gentle hand on her elbow when she teetered on her unstable legs. She winced because she wasn’t sure how to avoid the truth but this wasn’t a situation she could hide from them. She was hurt, that was clear, and she couldn’t smile her way out of the concern of her crewmates.
“I’m fine, Probie,” she replied before he could ask, “Knocked up my knee a bit is all.”
“I’ll get Tommy.”
“Mateo, no,” Marjan said quickly before her friend could run off to find the paramedic capitan. She tried to shake her head, meaning to put on a brave face and promise she was just fine, but that was a mistake. The rapid head movement only worsened her vertigo caused by the discomfort, the room spinning and her leg threatening to buckle under her. Mateo must have noticed because he grabbed her again, quick to help support her right side because Marjan was clearly having trouble.
“Captain Vega?!” Marjan wanted to protest again but she was too dizzy, her eyes felt heavy and all she wanted to do was cry. She hated appearing weak but she couldn’t keep up the façade at that point, not when her whole leg felt like it was on fire, almost as bad as when she first tore her MCL back in middle school. Marjan couldn’t even answer Tommy when she asked what was wrong, only a stifled whimper of pain preceded her descent into unforgiving unconsciousness, falling limp in Mateo’s hold.
#this is bad and also late as hell Lmao#911 ls#911 lone star#my aus#discrepancy#disability!au#marjan marwani#tommy vega#mateo chavez#owen strand#asks#mutuals#glow tag#usernova#userglow#usermehr#tuserjamie#usermaximus#userthai#userjillian#cj add this to your fic masterpost
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Hey besties I have a survey about my AUs and blog that I would appreciate responses on! Its anonymous so feel free to be honest with me please
My last exam is tomorrow and you should have my full attention again soon enough, so this is a way for me to collect feedback beforehand so I know what not to do and what you all want to see
#Thank u ily#creds to Nova for the forms idea cuz they did this not too long ago too#I just figured it was the easiest way to compile anonymous feedback#crockettstiddies#usermehr#usermaximus#userglow
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I don't know what I need + Marcy (marjan/nancy)
Need | Aftermath
PTSD!AU; after Tim’s death, Nancy has trouble even beginning to understand what she feels and Marjan wants to help
Prompt: “I don’t know what I need”
Word count: 1746
CW: Talk of death, allusion to the start of Nancy’s PTSD, crying
***
Paul had finally gone home, after their sparring match led to tears and comfort. When Marjan couldn’t hold herself up anymore, the weight of her grief too much, he had taken her in his arms no question. After a moment, he lowered them to the floor, holding Marjan as they both wept because punching couldn’t dispel as many feelings as crying did. They had stayed like that for a while, on the floor of the gym just trying to cope. It hurt because neither of them wanted to go home, home meant being alone with their thoughts and the reality of things. They had both left everything behind when they came to Austin, so their only support system in that moment was each other.
Still, they would have to go home eventually and it was getting rather late. After Paul had left to go take a quick shower, Marjan decided she would head home. She collected her things mindlessly, the only thing she could really think of was why. Why Tim? Why now? Why this way? It was all too much, made her question too many things about this line of work and the universe itself, and Marjan wanted nothing more than to sleep off the endless questions.
Marjan needed some time, she assumed, to properly process this. She would go home and she would pray, she would keep Tim in her thoughts and hope he finds an afterlife he deserves. She would help with the funeral and memorial set up, of course she would, but it would feel weird. She was struggling to come to terms with it and she knew it would be even worse for the others.
For those who knew him, had more time to spend getting to know him. They were becoming friendly, when the EMTs started spending more time around everyone during off hours, but she didn’t know much about him. He was selfless, kind, maybe a bit sarcastic; but he was a good EMT. He wanted to help people and he strived to do that, even at the risk of a reprimand.
Marjan knew this but she didn’t know him, not really. She didn’t know about his hometown, his favourite things, or what he did in his free time. She didn’t know that he had a partner back in Maryland, one who was waiting for their Masters program to end so they could move to Austin and be with Tim. She didn’t even know that he had a cat or that he had moved so far away to join the 126, risking so much for this job; just like she and Paul had.
There was one person who knew all of this. One person who knew Tim way better than the rest of the crew. Nancy had been absolutely wrecked when she realized what had happened. Marjan would never unhear those terrified screams, the way her friend’s hands flew to her mouth in disbelief and how Tommy had to hold her back. She was sobbing when they pulled her away, begging them to let her save him. She had to know there was nothing left, he was gone the second that fireball hit him, but Nancy didn’t want to admit it. Admitting it would mean she lost her best friend and the crew knew she couldn’t do that; not yet.
Maybe she would call Nancy later, once she got home and showered away the soot and sorrow of the day. Marjan ought to check in with her, she thought; she wasn’t sure if Nancy would have anyone during all of this and she shouldn’t have to be alone.
She was just passing the ambulance bay when a sound caught her attention. She thought her mind was playing tricks at first but after a second she figured it out. Her eyes travelled up to the source, Nancy was sitting on the bench in the back of the ambulance, her face hidden in her hands and her body wracking with sobs. She was hunched over painfully, as if she was trying to disappear into herself, and Marjan’s heart felt like it would break right then and there. She was hurting, probably more than any of them were, and she had no one to turn to in her worst moment.
Marjan didn’t think much of it as she dropped her bags, letting them clatter to the floor. The sound made Nancy look up, her cheeks darkening a bit as she realized she’d been caught. It was embarrassing, how she had no control over her emotions, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t speak when Marjan hoisted herself up into the rig too. They stayed silent, even when the other woman sat down beside her and looked at her expectantly.
She wanted to ask if she was okay, the unspoken question hanging in the heavy air, but it never came out. There was no point; she knew Nancy wasn’t okay. None of this was and it wouldn’t be okay for a long time, that was just the harsh reality of it all.
Instead, Marjan just nudged her knee gently with her own, opening her arms, “C’mere, Nanc.”
Nancy only hesitated for a second before she accepted the hug, melting into the comfort because it was all she could do. Marjan always gave good hugs, strong ones that made one feel like they were more protected than they ever could be. It was soothing but Nancy was already overwhelmed, so maybe it was the gentle affection that had her harshly sobbing again.
It was a needed moment of vulnerability, a chance for her to let go over everything and just feel properly. Marjan knew that and she didn’t press at all, she just held the other woman close and hoped she could provide some comfort. Her sobs were heartbreaking and she couldn’t imagine the amount of pain she was in at that moment. Tim had been her best friend as far as everyone knew, certainly her closest colleague, and this whole situation was terrifying. She would hurt for a while, they all would, but Marjan knew this might impact Nancy’s life forever.
“Nancy,” she spoke as she rubbed her back gently, “I’ve got you.”
“H-he’s…” she interrupted herself with a little gasp for air, “He’s r-really gone, M-Marjan.”
“I know, I’m so sorry.”
They lapsed back into silence, save for the sound of crying and the occasional sniffle as she tried to calm herself down. There were no more comforting words to be said, none that would be helpful or unheard before anyway. Marjan just held the other woman in her arms, knowing the slumped over position would become uncomfortable after a while. She would stay for as long as Nancy needed, though, because it was the least she could do.
It was the latter who broke the silence again, after she roughly swiped at the tears sliding down her cheeks, “You… you can go, M-Mar. I d-don’t want to keep you h-here so late.”
“Nancy, you know I can’t leave you like this,” she replied immediately, “The least I can do is make sure you aren’t alone.”
“But-”
“Unless you wanted to be,” Marjan added as an afterthought, “What do you need right now?”
Nancy couldn’t even begin to think of an answer to that. She needed that day to be all a dream, she needed her best friend to be alive and safe. No one could turn back time, though, and at the end of the day Tim would still be dead and she would be the last original member of the 126 EMS team. It was alienating and she knew work would be painful for a long time. Everyone would look at her in pity for weeks, not to mention how much more real it would become when they eventually had to replace him. She couldn’t focus on the present, not with the future being so uncertain, and she certainly couldn’t think about herself when her best friend died that day.
“I don’t-” she sighed shakily, “I don’t k-know what I need. I can’t-”
“Hey, it’s okay. Is there any way I can help? Even just for right now?”
Nancy looked up at Marjan, seeing no real pity in her eyes. Instead she was sad, clearly, but she didn’t look at Nancy like an unstable, injured animal like everyone else did. Marjan wanted to help like she always did, it was in her nature, and this was no different. Who was Nancy to deny a friend in this time when that’s what she needed the most?
“I-I don’t wanna… I don’t think I can be alone tonight…”
Marjan wanted to cry at the admission because she just sounded so broken, like even the thought of saying it out loud made her ashamed. Nancy was always helping people and keeping them safe but she had trouble asking for it herself. She needed a support system, Marjan realized, probably way more than she would ever let on.
“Okay,” Marjan gave her another gentle hug, “Would you like to stay at my place? You’re always welcome, you know that.”
“You’re sure?” Nancy didn’t want to intrude, much less overstep in any way. Her and Marjan were friends, yes, but she wasn’t sure how far that friendship went. She never knew where she stood in the crew, to be honest, and it made situations like this a bit awkward for Nancy.
“Of course, Nanc,” she nodded, “Whatever you need.”
It took a little more coaxing before Nancy felt ready to leave, even though she knew she desperately needed to be away from the station for a bit. It felt like she would be leaving Tim behind again, just like they did when they left the scene without him earlier. She didn’t mind when Marjan took her hand to lead her to her car, though, nor did she protest the way she helped her into the passenger seat. Taking care of people was how the other woman coped and Nancy knew that, plus maybe it was okay to surrender to the comfort for once. She trusted Marjan and knew being with her that night would help keep the thoughts at bay, even if it was just for the first day.
#<3#I love hurt/comfort but like ow#it hurts so bad gsjskdk#nancy gillian#marjan marwani#marcy#ptsd!au#aftermath#my aus#asks#anon#911 ls#911 lone star#cj add this to your fic masterpost#userglow#usermaximus#userjillian#userthai#trickytag#911 lone star spoilers
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“Paul, you never told me you had such beautiful friends in Austin,” the man said with a soft smile, the kind that could mend a broken heart with how sweet it was.
“Please,” Marjan laughed at the comment, “I’m Marjan.”
“Crockett,” he nodded across the bar to where a woman sat, chatting up the bartender, “And that charmer over there is my roommate Ava.”
Marjan’s eyes followed his motion, landing on the person in question. She, Ava, was grinning impishly as the bartender laughed at whatever she had said. Her smile alone was gorgeous, certainly solidifying Crockett’s comment about her charm. The blonde somehow managed to look absolutely regal in a red and black flannel and some jeans, her elegance exuding despite her casual clothing. She was pretty, in the simplest sense, but she was also way more than that. Something told Marjan that she wasn’t as much of a player as she appeared to be with her blatant flirting, a thought that she might be more approachable than she seemed. The firefighter certainly wanted to approach her, even if just to introduce herself-
“Marjan?” Paul’s elbow gently nudging her ribs was what tore her from her thoughts, a slight gesture to Crockett prompting him to repeat himself.
Marjan’s thoughts of the blonde were put on a back burner as Crockett asked questions about work and life in both Miami and Austin. Still, she couldn’t help but glance over at Ava a few times, entranced for reasons she couldn’t quite explain.
- Exerpt from the Marjan x Ava AU I’ll never write
#me: but what if they were gay and also in love :)#don’t take this too seriously#when will I stop clowning#it’s 3 am cj go to bed#ava bekker#marjan marwani#911 ls#chicago med#paul strickland#crockett marcel#my-writing#userglow
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Patient: Bekker, Ava Lusea
Diagnoses: Borderline Personality Disorder, Complex Post-Traumatic Stress, Obsessive-Compulsive tendencies
Primary psychiatrist: Sarah Reese, MD
Reason for admittance: Unpredictable episodes led to her employer fearing for her safety and that of Bekker’s colleagues and patients
Medications: Sertraline 150 mg, Risperidone 3 mg, Lorazepam 1 mg (as needed, up to 3 times a day)
Session: 9 Date: 04/22/19 Time: 13:45
Physician notes:
Ms. Bekker was transferred to my care after she expressed discomfort with seeing a male physician. She has been seeing me three times a week for three weeks now, though we have not made much progress until now. The patient was admitted as high risk after a C-PTSD attack during a shift at a hospital she worked for as a surgeon. Bekker became agitated and fearful, striking one of her coworkers after he tried to restrain her. She refuses to share what triggered that particular attack, though I have managed to get some information on her history to infer.
Bekker was diagnosed with BPD after a suicide attempt when she was nineteen. She has been on and off many medications, including anticonvulsants and antipsychotics. Her comorbid symptoms of anxiety/paranoia, major depressive disorder, and compulsions have led her to be an interesting case. She often has trouble sleeping, claiming her memories get “too loud” during the later hours of the night. After our 6th session, I prescribed 1 mg of Ativan to be administered under supervision as needed. The low-dose is to ensure no interactions occur with her pre-existing treatments, however they do seem to have helped her with relaxing situations Bekker deems to be stressful.
Today the patient was in a relatively good mood. She spoke cheerfully to me and was pleased to mention that Nurse Sexton took a group of patients out to the gardens for a time. She enjoys being outdoors, though she is still considered a flight risk so her exposure to the gardens has been limited. I do notice an improvement in her demeanor in comparison to our last session, where she was visibly agitated and non-compliant. I believe outdoors may be a much needed change in pace and scenery and I will be discussing with my attending whether I can do a future session outside to monitor her attitude.
We were able to discuss how her medications make her feel, where the patient agreed that the lorazepam is helping her calm down during mini-episodes. She does state that she has experienced digestive upset as of recently, which makes me assume her sertraline is increasing nausea after the last 50 mg dose change. I have placed in her chart that this medication will now be given to the patient with her dinner, to ease any stomach upset that may come about. She does not have anything to say about the risperidone, aside from her usual complaints that she “isn’t crazy” and does not need to be on antipsychotics. They do seem to ease her irritability and make her less paranoid, so the risperidone will continue.
Bekker tells me that she has worried about her relationships with fellow patients. She has always exhibited anxiety over friendships and is scared to upset or lose her acquaintances. This manifests as clinginess and has led to a few meltdowns when people did not respond the way the patient wished. She has been known to guilt and/or manipulate others, trying to gain their good graces and affection in whatever way she can. She does not realize this can be seen as manipulative and rude, as she merely wishes for people to like her. She does not like to be alone and has told me many times that she preferred when she had a roommate, however it is still uncertain whether she is stable enough to be roomed with another patient at this time.
Bekker is still unable to tell me much about her childhood, she freezes up upon mention of her foster families and will not talk much about South Africa. She was adopted when she was sixteen and moved to America soon after, a transition she describes as “hell” and “horrible”. Her adoptive family were well equipped to handle a troubled teen but tell me she often acted out and ran away. I am unsure as to whether Bekker is uncomfortable sharing details of her childhood, which I have concluded are the likely cause of her C-PTSD, or whether she simply cannot remember them.
Bekker has frequent episodes of depersonalization, which may be connected to her trauma. She shuts down and is quite unresponsive in these moments, though we keep her under close supervision. I would like to do an EEG in the near future, to track her responses to certain phrases and stimuli. I believe she is experiencing trauma-related derealization, so she may not be able to recall her childhood as an unconscious defence mechanism. I will tread this area gently but wish to test if I can help Bekker navigate her memory gaps to better heal from her past. I will not be adjusting her medications any more at this time, though I will note that her DBT should go from once a week to twice, while still doing general sessions with me three days a week.
- Sarah Reese, MD
Department of Psychiatry
#lusea is Ava’s middle name from now on because I said so :)#anyway this is structured weird but let me know if y’all want more like this#for nat/crogett/jimmy#felt like this was a good way to introduce their diagnoses and stuff#ava bekker#sarah reese#my aus#fractured reality#psych!au#cj add this to your fic masterpost#userglow
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Aftermath | Nancy Gillian
How am I supposed to think about anything when my best friend is gone and the future is so uncertain?
[NOTE: AU retired as of 12/06/21]
#wanted to do a little Nancy character study#so this is an au now#to explore her trauma and ptsd after Tim’s death#cuz I feel like the show won’t really cover it much#but Nancy deserves to heal <3#ptsd!au#aftermath#my aus#911 ls#nancy gillian#my moodboards#cj add this to your fic masterpost#userglow#usermaximus#userjillian#userthai#trickytag
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"You left your shirt at my house. It’s mine now." for reekser 👉👈
also i hope you're having a good day :)
Thank you!! I hope you had a good day too 🥺
Mine | A Chance Meeting (Twice Over)
Ava comes to work one day wearing something that clearly isn’t hers
***
“No, I definitely saw her wearing it,” Doris was saying from across the nurse’s station, gossiping with the other nurses as she often did. Sarah had to roll her eyes at that, as if there wasn’t enough drama within the hospital as is, especially in the ED. She decided to tune them out, occupying herself with reading a chart over Natalie’s shoulder instead.
“Did you order a contrast CT?”
“Yeah, I-”
Natalie’s answer was interrupted when April came over, an apology preceding her explanation that she needed to steal the resident for a moment. Sarah’s forehead scrunched a bit in confusion but she still let her friend lead her off to a quieter part of the ED.
“What’s going on with you and Doctor Bekker?” April cut to the chase right away, eyebrow arching as she looked at Sarah pointedly. She didn’t miss the way her cheeks turned pink and she stumbled over her answer, making her response redundant.
“I- nothing! W-we’re on Robin’s case together?”
“Uh-huh,” April rolled her eyes, “Sarah, the nurses are already talking about it.”
“About what?” She genuinely didn’t know what that meant. Her and Ava had spent a fair amount of time together since reuniting, they did have ten years of catching up to do after all. Still, at work they kept their distance for comfort’s sake; Sarah worried that people would make a big deal. They weren’t dating, not yet anyway, because Sarah had said she had some things to work through first. Ava didn’t mind, though she had made it clear she would be open to a relationship whenever Sarah was comfortable.
“Your sweater?” April looked at her incredulously, “Doris said she saw Doctor Bekker wearing your work fleece today.”
“April, that’s-” Sarah stopped herself, trying to think of how she could even get around that. She wanted to say that Doris was probably lying, since she didn’t even recall seeing Ava with that particular sweater ever, but then she realized. She had been wearing it when they were together that weekend and she must have forgotten the thing at Ava’s place. She definitely didn’t expect the surgeon to decide to wear it, much less to work, but maybe she had. It was a bit upsetting, since she had said she didn’t want people at work knowing about them before they had actually made things official, but that would be a later issue. At this point, Sarah was just trying to figure out how to dodge the endless questions she could tell April had. It was times like these she actually wished Doctor Charles would come to interrupt him as he so often did but the universe didn’t seem to be in her favour that day.
“Can I-” she sighed, “I’ll tell you later, okay? I would prefer if you didn’t… let Doris gossip about me or Ava, though.”
That seemed to placate April, though her knowing smile only grew when Sarah referred to the new fellow by first name. The resident just rolled her eyes again, shooing her friend away by reminding her she needed to get back to work. Sarah, however, checked the time and realized she could take her lunch at that point. Which was a relief, especially since she had to go confirm something about a certain cardio surgeon.
***
“You didn’t strike me as a thief, Ava,” Connor’s tone was playful, something she was still getting used to. In the three weeks since she started working at Gaffney, the other cardiothoracic fellow had slowly lowered his guard and stopped being so hostile towards her. She knew it was the principle of the thing, since this was all a big competition to be the best for Connor, but it was relieving to know he didn’t hate her. Not that she really cared about what Connor Rhodes of all people thought of her, but him being friendly certainly made her life easier.
“How do you mean?” she asked, not looking up from her computer. She was trying to finish typing up an email to an old colleague from Groote Schuur, wanting to ask her about a technique she used in a surgery for HPLHS when Ava was a resident.
“Well, that’s certainly not your sweater,” he replied with a pointed look, “Unless you changed your name and speciality overnight. Identity theft is no joke, Doctor Bekker.”
Ava looked up at that, sighing, “You think you’re so funny, don’t you? I’m just borrowing it.”
“Since when are you and Reese close enough to share clothes?”
Ava didn’t have the energy to even begin to explain the situation to Connor, not that it was any of his business anyway. She was saved, though, when a quiet voice called her name from across the hall. As if the mention of her name had summoned her, the psychiatry resident had just stepped off the elevator and was making her way over to where Ava sat at the main desk in CT. Connor’s curiosity was obviously killing him, as he looked between the two women waiting for his explanation.
“Hey,” Ava smiled at Sarah, pretending she didn’t notice the way Sarah looked vaguely upset. She could guess why and she did feel a bit bad about it, but they weren’t going to have this conversation around Connor. That would only make things worse, of course, so she just finished typing her sentence and then closed the tab she had open on the computer.
“Lunch time?” Ava asked, letting Sarah know they could go somewhere to talk, away from Connor who was amused with the way Ava’s tone had immediately changed around Sarah. The resident just nodded, waiting patiently for Ava to collect her things. They left the desk in silence, knowing the other surgeon would have lots of questions for her when she came back; most of which would go unanswered. Ava didn’t owe him anything, of course, despite what Connor seemed to think.
Sarah led the way to the stairwell instead of the elevator, making Ava aware that they would actually be talking instead of going to the cafeteria. She leaned against the wall when the other woman stopped walking, looking at her apologetically.
“What happened to being subtle?”
“You left your sweater at my house,” Ava replied coolly, “It’s mine now.”
“Ava…”
“It’s not that big of a deal, Sar,” she promised, “All I’ve said was that I borrowed it. I don’t have my own fleece yet, and the CT floor is cold, you know.”
“Doris is talking about it,” she rolled her eyes but also was clearly anxious about it, “They’ve all been talking.”
Ava reached out to grab her wrist gently, tugging the brunette a bit closer. Sarah huffed but she wasn’t actually that mad, knowing it really wasn’t the biggest deal. She knew Ava really didn’t mean anything of it, she was just already used to borrowing Sarah’s sweaters whenever she was over at her place.
“Let them talk then,” she suggested softly, “I will take it off if it bugs you, though.”
Sarah looked at her, unable to hide her smile when Ava looked at her with a tiny pout. She certainly knew how to get on her good side, she thought ruefully, the other woman still proving to be her weakness ten years later.
“It's okay.”
“Are you sure?” Ava asked seriously, watching as she reached out to fiddle with the zipper that the blonde had only done up ¾ of the way. The little gesture made her feel better, glad she hadn’t actually made her angry. She didn’t mean to at all, of course, she just loved Sarah’s sweaters. They were warm and smelled of her perfume, a faint vanilla scent that reminded her of their past. It was reassuring when Sarah nodded absently, hesitating for a moment before responding.
“Let them talk,” she echoed, “I like seeing you in my sweater, anyway.”
The wide grin she received from Ava made everything seem better, her own smile growing when the older woman took her hand and gave it an appreciative squeeze. It was enough for both of them and maybe it made Ava really happy when Sarah let her hold her hand until they reached the downstairs hallway. It was a big step, she knew that, and she was grateful that Sarah trusted her like this.
#this is kinda weak ngl#I changed the prompt a lil to fit this#but this is the second time I’ve written Ava steal Sarah’s work sweater <3#because she would 🥰🥰#ava bekker#sarah reese#my aus#a chance meeting (twice over)#asks#cr1pt1d#mutuals#userglow#my-writing
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Rupture | Marjan Marwani
Part 2 to Don’t want to (die)
CW: medical gore, surgery talk, mentions of dying
Word count: 1973
***
“Michelle?” Nancy had returned from her walk to get coffee for them, though Tim was nowhere in sight. Instead, Nancy was flanked by Owen and TK, who both looked quite worried. Of course they were, everyone was. She knew there was no sense telling them to go back and wait at the station, just as much as she knew the rest of the crew would arrive soon. Owen would hover, like he always does, and try to make sure everyone was remaining positive. Grace would arrive eventually, to check on Judd and everyone else. They would all remain in the waiting room at least until they had an update, just like they did when TK got shot.
“She’s in surgery,” she told Owen slowly, standing on shaky legs. Nancy was quick to help her, a gentle hand wrapping around her arm for added stability. Her blood pressure was probably low, paired with her rapid heart rate from the stress of the situation. No one commented on it and Michelle just shot Nancy a thankful look, accepting the disposable coffee cup she was handed. She stopped to take a sip of the caffeinated beverage, wincing at the acrid, lukewarm excuse for coffee.
“And her injuries?”
“Pretty major,” she admitted, “I was right about the ribs, 8th and 9th left ribs fractured severely.”
“Ouch,” TK mumbled, “Anything else?”
“The surgeon hasn’t come to update us yet but she had fluid in her abdomen and the likelihood of a splenic or renal rupture is really high...”
That had Owen sighing, his hand landing on TK’s good shoulder and giving it a squeeze. He was having trouble separating this from the times his son was in a similar situation, that was obvious. Even if it was different, Marjan was basically family and this was enough to scare the Hell out of all of them. Everything was so uncertain and it felt too surreal, fear palpable between them.
“Cap?” Mateo’s voice had them turning, drawing Owen’s attention away to the rest of the crew. Michelle took that as a moment to drop her brave face, with everyone else preoccupied as TK and his dad informed them of the situation. Nancy noticed her attitude change, she always did, and her arm was around her waist in seconds.
“You okay, Chelle?”
She shrugged, letting her lead her back to the chairs they had been occupying. She and Marjan had begun hanging out outside work recently and Michelle wouldn’t hesitate to call her a good friend. Everything about this was horrible, none of the crew should get hurt, but the fact that it was Marjan was somehow worse. She was so selfless and so fearless, ready to jump into danger both to help people and for the sheer excitement. She wanted to help, she always helped, and this wasn’t fair. Besides that, Michelle was just tired. She knew she would be preoccupied with answering everyone’s questions and checking on them all evening. She didn’t mind, of course, but it was overwhelming. Nancy knew that, she knew exactly how situations like this went and how much her captain internalized it.
“She’s strong,” Nancy reminded her gently as she nudged Michelle into her chair, “Just breathe.”
“I’m scared, Nanc,” her admission was barely audible but she still heard it, immediately taking Michelle’s shaking hand in hers. There was no need for a reply, nothing could be said to make this better. Nancy knew better than to waste her energy making up promises neither of them could be sure of, nor would she even think of doing that to Michelle. She didn’t need coddling or uncertain promises, she just needed an anchor in that moment. So they sat in silence instead, hands clasped together tightly, and it wasn’t perfect but it did help.
***
Two hours passed before any update was heard. Grace showed up eventually, immediately beelining for her husband like she always did. Still, Michelle watched as she stopped in front of Mateo, who looked to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Grace tapped on his arm gently and opened her arms without a word, drawing the young firefighter into a gentle embrace. Grace’s hugs were always so warm and maternal and Michelle was glad she was there. These firefighters never liked to show weakness or be vulnerable, so it was times like these where an outside support was needed. It was clear in the way Mateo thanked her quietly and smiled a little, albeit it didn’t really reach his eyes.
“You hang in there, sweetheart,” she replied and let him sit back down, finally going over to Judd. It was moments like this where Michelle realized just how much of a family the 126 had become and it made her so grateful. After the accident with the original crew she wasn’t sure Judd would be the same again, nor did she think the new crew would be able to get their feet on the ground in the beginning. Yet despite all the stress and change, they managed to find real trust and love in each other. As terrifying as this all was, they were lucky to have each other through it all.
It was still weird, though, because something felt wrong. It was worse than it was with TK, somehow, because they all felt Marjan’s absence so blatantly. Her love language was tiny acts of service, it was how she coped, and in a moment like this they noticed the difference. Marjan was usually wandering between everyone, handing out coffees and offering a reassuring touch or a smile. Without her familiar support and comfort, the waiting room felt even more cold and uncertain. It was never comfortable to be down a team member, especially in such a situation, but missing Marjan in particular was exceptionally hard.
The doors to the OR hall opened and the woman Michelle recognized as one of the trauma surgeons stepped out. She looked around the crowded waiting room for a moment before looking at Michelle, simply because she knew her from previous calls they had brought patients here from.
“You’re with Ms. Marwani?”
“Y-yes,” Michelle glanced back at everyone, “We all are.”
“She’s out of surgery. The rib fractures were severe, we needed to realign them with titanium plates to ensure proper healing. The shards from the break also ruptured her spleen and the damage was extensive, I’m afraid we had to remove it completely.”
“Will she be okay?” Mateo’s question was one they all silently echoed.
“She will be in the ICU until she wakes up, from there we will monitor her for as long as we see necessary. Her recovery will be extensive, I’m afraid, but she got out of surgery with minor complications.”
***
Michelle was allowed to see her after about another hour, though she was told visiting hours would be over quite soon. She didn’t mind, though, she just needed to see Marjan for herself. After she had passed out mid-sentence in the ambulance, Michelle had been absolutely terrified. She was shaking like a leaf when she had to intubate her, knowing in that moment exactly why doctors weren’t allowed to work on friends or family. It was hard to depersonalize, especially when Marjan’s life hung in the balance, and Nancy had had to take over the ambu bag when Michelle was shaking too hard.
From a medical standpoint it didn’t look good at all, especially not when Marjan’s stats dropped and her heart rate was uncontrollable. The portable ultrasound had confirmed fluid in the upper left quadrant, which was indicative of a major internal bleed. They got her to the hospital in time but seeing her unconscious and almost coding on that gurney had Michelle more terrified for a crew member than she had ever been.
The ICU was an uncomfortable place for Michelle. It reminded her too much of her dad’s last moments, the way she had held Iris and promised they would be okay. It was all too reminiscent of the times she spent waiting in those uncomfortable leather chairs for good news that would never come. She could almost hear her mother’s sobs from across the ICU, even years later. Still, she let the nurse lead her down the hall to a corner room, thanking her when she opened the sliding door for her and waved her in.
Marjan was unconscious as expected, no longer intubated but hooked up to essentially every other life-sustaining machine in the room. A quick glance at her heart monitor told her she was stable, but Michelle’s stomach still dropped at the sight. She looked impossibly pale, all the usually spunk and confidence sapped from her body. She didn’t stir when Michelle approached, the only signs of life being the telltale beeping of her heart monitor and the slight rise and fall of her chest.
“Marj,” she sighed as she pulled the visitor’s chair closer to the head of the bed, “What did you get yourself into?”
She didn’t sit down right away, though, because something was bothering her. Her eyes scanned the room before landing on what she was looking for. A plastic bag full of Marjan’s clothes that survived the accident and her other belongings. Michelle went over to the counter to grab them, rummaging through the thing in vague annoyance until she found what she was looking for.
“I know it was a sterility issue but really?” she grumbled as she walked back over to Marjan, “I’m sorry, I’ll make sure they leave it be, okay?”
She busied herself with carefully draping Marjan’s scarf back over her head, careful not to jostle her or obstruct any wires. She figured the other woman would appreciate that, especially since she was already in a vulnerable situation. Limited in knowledge and mobility in that moment, Michelle just settled for tucking it around her as best she could, hoping it would at least make her feel more secure if she woke up with any staff or the crew around.
“There,” she sat down when she was content, studying her friend’s unmoving face for a moment. It still felt so surreal, the whole thing, but this helped a little. She was unconscious and her recovery would be extensive, it would be months before she could even step foot in a firetruck again, but she was alive. In that moment, that’s what made Michelle feel a bit more grounded. She tried to ignore the fact that there was a large plastic tube sticking out from her abdomen to drain excess fluid from her splenectomy, not to mention the fact that Marjan would be way more susceptible to infection until her other organs could take over her spleen’s job. They would cross that bridge when they got there, she figured, but Marjan being alive was the most important thing.
Michelle shifted a little in the stiff chair, uncomfortable with the way her uniform had begun to chafe her skin. Carlos had offered her a ride home when he was leaving with TK but she had declined, citing the fact that she wanted to stay with Marjan a bit more. He had looked at her with a sad expression, yet simply offered his best friend another reassuring hug before taking TK’s hand to leave. Everyone else had gone home because visiting hours would end soon anyway, planning to come back the next day to check on Marjan. Michelle couldn’t bring herself to leave, though, as much as she wanted to change out of her uniform and sleep away the stress of the day.
Marjan needed someone, especially right then, and the least she could do was be there for her. Maybe that’s what prompted Michelle to take her cold hand in her own, holding it close in an attempt to warm up her poorly oxygenated skin. She held onto her tightly, something in her brain screaming that she needed to. It was as if Michelle thought Marjan would disappear if she let go of her after that, which only prompted her to keep a careful hold on her limp hand.
“I’ve got you, Marj,” she murmured, though maybe it was for herself when she added, “You’re not going anywhere, okay?”
#don’t like the ending but anyway#I know I said I was on an angst break but#a random spark of inspiration made me do it#forgive me <3#also idk why my brain decided this was Marchelle centric because they’re Not Together but y’know#it be like that#911 ls#911 lone star#marjan marwani#michelle blake#userglow#userthai#usermaximus#userjillian#tuserjamie#idk who else to tag lmao but notice me lone star stans <3
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Please for rehearsal AU pls 🍑
Please | Rehearsal
Theatre!AU; Ava’s charms don’t work as she had hoped this time
Word count: 960
Prompt: please
***
“What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Bekker?”
Ava rolled her eyes a little at those words, disregarding everything she usually stood for. Ava was raised to be a good girl, always polite and doing as she was told, especially when it came to authority figures. That had died the second she left South Africa, though, because this is what her parents signed up for. If they were going to ruin her chances at a great medical school and early education all for some job in America, then why shouldn’t Ava have a bit of rebellion to teach them a lesson? Besides, this principal was insufferable and she had become sick of her ridiculously cold office. Maybe everything in Chicago was just cold and unwelcoming, that would certainly make sense.
“I have no comment, ma’am,” the honourific held no respect despite its implications and it made Ms. Goodwin raise an eyebrow.
“Your lack of respectful etiquette is glaring, Miss Bekker,” she glanced at the computer which must have had Ava’s student files pulled up, “And yet your previous school spoke so highly of you. You were set to graduate early and had applied to so many medical schools in the country, were you not?”
“I was. Unfortunately adults in my life decided my future didn’t matter. Now I’m in this dump, dragged out of class yet again; so you can probably infer why I have zero respect for any of you.”
“I would watch it if I were you, Ava.”
“Is that a threat, Sharon?” Ava questioned pointedly, running a hand through her perfectly kept hair. She was pushing it, more than she had in the month she had lived there, but her patience was running thin. Her parents had been arguing all night and she barely got any sleep, now here she was stuck in the office instead of her biology lab. Really it would be their fault if she failed, since she had gone to class on time as she always did.
“Clearly detention doesn’t teach you anything. Five separate instances in the past month where you’ve ended up in my office, don’t you get tired of acting out, Ava?”
“I’m getting tired of this conversation.”
“The security video shows that it was you who broke the sprinkler latch and triggered the fire alarm yesterday. Absolutely nothing warranted that, so clearly it was another one of your antics, wasn’t it?”
“Can you blame me?” Ava leaned back in the squeaky chair, crossing one leg over the other languidly, “Those assemblies you hold are absolutely insufferable. I was already missing class for a mind numbing reason and standing outside for an hour was much more enthusing, if you ask me.”
The principal’s look for exasperation was amusing, making Ava quite pleased. She would never act like this back home but at this rate she had nothing to lose. All they did in this school was give out detentions, which were just boring above all. It gave her a chance to sit in silence and finish homework anyway, and any place was better than the joke of a house she lived in now.
“The school corrections officer and I have decided that you need a bit more motivation to behave, miss Bekker, so here is the deal. You will deal with a two week suspension that will go on your permanent record and have you marked as absent for those 14 days, which should give you some incentive to do better in the future.”
That had Ava’s stomach flipping anxiously, realizing she had maybe pushed a bit too hard much too fast. As much as she had developed a “didn’t ask, don’t care” attitude since her move, attendance and grades were still the top priority for her. She was never absent, not even tardy without a reason or excuse, and she had sustained her top of the class status even in Chicago. Detention after school she could handle, since it didn’t impede directly on the school day at all, but a suspension was not part of the plan. She understood she had stepped out of line maybe a bit too far but this was unexpected, considering Gaffney high school didn’t seem to be much of a harsh punishment type institution.
“Respectfully, Ms. Goodwin,” she said slowly as she tried to turn the script, “I would prefer another option.”
“This isn’t a prize to be bargained, Ava.”
“I understand that, I just think it is an unfair punishment. Taking away my education for two weeks because I was peacefully protesting an irrelevant assembly that interrupted my learning? A bit redundant, don't you agree?”
“Causing panic and wasting the time of first responders for a fake fire is not my idea of peace. I think you would benefit from this punishment, as it clearly upsets you.”
“That’s cruel,” Ava retorted, “Is there no other option?”
Sharon stopped, looking at the teenager with an unreadable expression. Her annoyed exhale was very audible, clearly wishing Ava had just decided to go with the two weeks off school like every other delinquent kid would have. Ava Bekker was a mystery, she decided, and she had no clue what to do with her.
“Please…”
“Community service,” she said firmly, “That’s your only other option. The rest of the term, every school day after hours for two hours.”
“Done.”
“Miss Bekker, are you serious?”
Ava shrugged, “What are you making me do, clean up trash? That’s better than permanently ruining my academic standing.”
“You will be an assistant for the drama club’s spring production,” Goodwin answered, “Odd jobs, line reading, clean up, stage decorating; whatever they need.”
“I-”
“Drama club or suspension, that’s final.”
#you ever write something that barely fits the prompt and then you spend 30 minutes debating on deleting it#also I hope someone got my reference in there with what Sharon said#:)#ava bekker#rehearsal#theatre!au#sharon goodwin#my aus#asks#heartofmarjan#userglow#crockettstiddies
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I might not get another chance for recurrence?👀
Hehe
Uncertainty | Recurrence
Cancer!AU; Ava makes a leap of faith after a bad thing happens
Prompt: “I may not get another chance.”
Word count: 1451
CW: cancer talk
Part 2 of Collapse
***
This was something Sarah had feared since Ava first said the words. It was never a dealbreaker, she didn’t dwell on the idea because she knew it would drive her insane, but it was a worry. Ava meant the world to her, she had become so important to her in such a short amount of time and her love grew greater as they became closer. Ava was so strong, so confident, and her past only proved how far she had come to get to where she was. She had been doing so well, since she was fifteen years into her remission the only thing they ever had to worry about was her missing ribs and minimized bone density. It was all supposed to be okay, Sarah had been so confident, but her hopes were shattered when Sam found her that day.
“Doctor Reese,” she had caught up to her in the cafeteria and Sarah was confused, “I need you to come with me.”
“Doctor Zanetti, I-”
“It’s Ava,” those words had her attention in milliseconds, “She collapsed.”
Sarah had almost cried right then and there, terrified for the wellbeing of her girlfriend. Still, Sam had taken her hand and tugged her out of the room, knowing she needed to be with Ava in that moment. Everything was so uncertain, especially since they didn’t know why she collapsed, and both of them feared for her. The two weren’t close, only friendly because Ava gave them a common relation, but they were here for each other in this. Sam knew if this was bad news that Sarah would bury her own fear for Ava’s sake, so she silently made note to check up on her too.
Ava was in an ER bed, an oxygen mask over her face and her eyes half-lidded. She was clearly medicated, barely noticing Sarah had entered the room until she came over to the bed. A gentle hand on top of hers got through to her, though, and Ava looked up at Sarah weakly. She was embarrassed, that was obvious, but her breathing was too shallow and ragged for her to make any believable excuse for her being there. Something was wrong, they both knew that, and they could only wait for the worst.
“What happened?”
It was Connor who answered, walking into the room again, “After a surgery I went to ask her about a case. We were walking to the ward and she collapsed, her respiration was really low.”
“Chest… tube,” Ava muttered as she gestured vaguely to the plastic tube that Sarah hadn’t seen sticking out of her gown before. She looked at Ava incredulously, knowing that her flinch from that morning had been way more than just a strained rib. Hindsight was 20/20, though, and all Sarah could do was sigh and lean a bit closer to bonk her head lightly against Ava’s. She needed to be close to her, to be sure she was okay; it was all she could do.
“Fluid?”
Connor nodded but didn’t say anything, just leaned heavily against the wall across the room. He wasn’t there as a doctor, she realized, he was there as a friend. Sam had stayed outside, citing that it was too cramped in the room and she didn’t want to make Ava uncomfortable. They all knew she hated this, the worry and the coddling, but it was all they could do.
“Best case scenario is pneumonia, then,” she concluded with a shaky sigh, making Ava tug on her wrist.
“H-hey,” she took a deep breath that Sarah could hear rattling uncomfortably in her chest, “I’m... fine.”
“Ava, I had to shove a plastic tube into your mediastinum less than 45 minutes ago,” Connor retorted incredulously, “You had to have known something was wrong.”
Sarah looked at her pointedly but didn’t add to that, because she didn’t need to be chastised or embarrassed anymore. Ava had a habit of pretending she was okay until she wasn’t and this was just another one of those times. She was used to pain, she spent half her childhood and adolescence in pain, so of course she was used to it. Ava didn’t like to appear weak and to her this was probably nothing, even though they all knew the implications.
“I didn’t want to assume the… the worst,” she shrugged, “I’m alive, for now.”
“Ava, don’t,” Sarah warned, not ready to even think about what she meant by that. Of course Ava was assuming it was back, even though pneumonia would make more sense. It was cold and viral pneumonia was going around the inpatient ward, she probably caught it when doing post-ops. That’s all Sarah could tell herself because she was too afraid to admit what else might be happening.
“Sorry…”
“You’re okay,” Sarah leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head, “Just… you’ll be fine, okay?”
“I’m fine, darling,” Ava concluded, the sure nod she gave Sarah was enough to soften her and ease her nerves.
“Gross,” Connor rolled his eyes as the brief affection, “I’ll go check on the CT.”
When they were left alone, Ava shifted a little on the bed and looked up at Sarah. The space she made was a peace offering, an apology for hiding her pain and for making light of the bad situation. It was also a silent request for comfort, even though she wouldn’t ask outright in a situation like this. She needed Sarah, she needed to feel grounded and safe in so much uncertainty. It was what they both needed and it’s why Sarah didn’t hesitate to sit down on the uncomfortable gurney mattress beside her.
Ava leaned into her immediately, hiding a flinch when she jostled her chest tube. Sarah just wrapped an arm around her, mumbling a “be careful,” into her shoulder.
“Sarah?”
“Yeah, Avey?”
“I-” she sighed shakily and held out her hand, waiting for Sarah to take it. Their fingers laced together as perfectly as they always did, a familiar pressure that soothed them both. Sarah waited for her to gather her thoughts, knowing she was probably terrified and trying to make light of it all to cope. This was hard on her, sure, but Sarah couldn’t imagine what Ava was feeling right now.
“I’ve got you, okay?” she said gently, “Whatever this is, I love you, Ava.”
That had Ava squeezing her hand, a shy sound escaping her as she looked down. She nodded and then glanced back at her with a little smile. Sarah wasn’t sure what she was thinking at that moment but the words that came out of Ava’s mouth had her in shock.
“I want to marry you.”
“A-Ava I-”
“I’m serious,” she added firmly despite the way her breathing was uneven, “I love you and… I may not... get another c-chance to say that. So yeah, I do want… want to marry you.”
“God, you will be the death of me,” Sarah muttered as she hid her face in Ava’s shoulder, even though she knew she had already seen her embarrassed blush. She wasn’t upset, she honestly felt her heart swell knowing Ava wanted to marry her, but the situation was hard. She didn’t want either of them to think about a future where they couldn’t spend it together, even though the threat was looming over them.
“Don’t say that,” her words were a little muffled, “You have every chance, okay? You’ve made it this far and I’m sure as Hell not giving up on you, so you better not either.”
“Sarah…”
“Hey, I want to marry you too,” she added pointedly, “So you will keep your stubborn ass alive, won’t you?”
Ava grinned at her, mood immediately improving as she took off her oxygen mask to lean forward and steal a kiss from her lips. Sarah just laughed a little, kissing her back gently. Despite everything, this was the kind of comfort and reassurance they both needed. Whatever happened they were together and they would get through it. Ava certainly wasn’t going to miss a chance to see Sarah as a bride, her bride, that was for sure.
It was short lived, though, because Sarah knew she was struggling to breathe enough as it is. She urged her to put the mask back on, though she did press another kiss to Ava’s forehead to appease her. Ava compiled without complaint, just happy to know Sarah was there. Despite all this uncertainty, one thing she was sure of was that she would marry Sarah Reese one day; not even cancer would stop her.
#this didn’t turn out the way I wanted or intended#but oh well#unedited because my heart is Not Cooperating and I can’t focus lol#ava bekker#sarah reese#reesker#connor rhodes#sam zanetti#my aus#recurrence#cancer!au#asks#anon#cj add this to your fic masterpost#userglow
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