Long Lost Lumos

NeuroNurse. 27. European.

[redgoldsparks]

[softwaring]

[thegirlwiththemooglehat]

[chaotic-archaeologist]

*Raises hand* Hi actually we do sometimes find stuff like this and know exactly what was going on. Human nature transcends time and Fuckery and Hijinxs are part of the historical record :)

[gothredy]

[elistudies]

Literature + women is the realest thing I've ever seen in any bio on anything

the only two passions worthwhile, thank you.

[anxietyproblem]

[feelingsoftheday]

yea sex is cool but have u ever been treated like a priority instead of just an option

[abouttimeoc]

[abouttimeoc]

[kosmogrl]

hey, we’ll be ok

[laskulls-deactivated20250318]

so many snow animals are just white puff with dot eyes. amazing design

[laskulls-deactivated20250318]

I just love this genre

[ladydei]

oh this was delightful

[ladyantiheroine]

Don’t forget owls!

[moniquill]

Sphere = the ideal shape for maximizing internal volume with minimum surface area, thus best shape for not lose heat. Sphere stay warm! Sticky outy bits get cold!!

[severus-is-not-a-villain]

I feel so called out rn…

[in-another-april]

bitches will be like “this is my comfort show” and its a show where the characters have never felt a day of comfort in their lives (its me im bitches)

[memeuplift]

[querade]

11x23 "Derek died. He died—I don’t want to feel it. I don’t think I can.”

amelia shepherd is one of those characters whose pain you feel deep in your stomach. it was a constant fight. Just to not be a mess. a single day of weakness is a loss. she's screamed her soul out. she's gone through more than anyone should while feeling undeserving of help the whole time.

[alliecathayes]

DEREK SHEPHERD, AMELIA SHEPHERD & LEXIE GREY — Grey’s Anatomy 8.15 | “Have You Seen Me Lately?” (2012)

[querade]

I thought amelia's firework scrub cap just represented that's she's got an explosive personality. bold, loud, delightful (a little destructive in the wrong hands), etc.

OK YES BUT THEN TIL that as a kid, amelia had a phobia of loud noises because of her father's shooting, so she took a ton of firecrackers and set them off until the sound didn't bother her anymore. 

she‘s freaking badass!! I just love her more and more!!

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Sick Call

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: established relationship, pure unadulterated fluff, seriously so fluffy, sickfic, would that we all had someone taking care of us when we were sick I mean come on Word Count: 0.8k

Summary: You wake up sick in the middle of the night, but your doctor girlfriend won't let you go back to sleep without a full check-up and some taking care of.

You tossed and turned in the bed, head pounding. You’d tried to convince yourself it was just a headache, just allergies, just anything except actual illness. But if your aching head, stuffy nose, and chills were any indication, you were really and truly sick. You coughed and pulled the blankets up to your ears, trying to keep warm. Unable to fall asleep, you propped yourself up to look out the window at the lighted coast and the darkness beyond. Your house was too far away to hear the ocean, but you knew it was there. You fell back down on the pillow with a soft groan, pressing your fingers into your temples. Beside you, Amelia stirred.

“You okay, bean?” Amelia’s voice was gravelly with sleep as she turned to face you.

“Yeah. Just sick. Go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Amelia’s hand shot out of the dark and wrapped around your neck.

“Ow!” you exclaimed.

Amelia sat up. “Your lymph nodes are swollen,” she observed. She moved her hand to your forehead. “And you’re definitely running a fever.” She sat up and turned on a lamp.

You groaned and squinted. “Jesus.”

Amelia launched herself out of bed and strolled into the bathroom.

“Amy,” you protested weakly. “I’m fine. Come back to bed.”

You could hear Amelia rummaging in the bathroom closet. “That’s what you always say.”

“Yes, but eventually I’m always right,” you called, yawning and propping yourself up on your elbow.

Amelia returned to the room carrying several pill bottles, a wet washrag, and a thermometer. “Open up,” she said, pointing the thermometer at your mouth.

You raised your eyebrows. “Amelia. It’s the middle of the night. I have a cold. This is a little overkill, don’t you think?”

Amelia looked around the room, as if gesturing to an invisible audience that this was unbelievable. “I’m sorry, who’s the doctor here?”

You wordlessly rolled your eyes and opened your mouth. Amelia popped the thermometer in and started opening pill bottles.

“Are you gonna pull the doctor card every time I have the sniffles?” you mumbled through the thermometer.

“Yes,” Amelia said. “Now shut up so I can get an accurate read.”

The thermometer beeped and Amelia removed it, peering at the screen. “102.6,” she read. Amelia shook two pills into her hand and opened your water bottle. “Take these.”

“What is it?” you asked, swallowing the pills quickly.

“NyQuil,” said Amelia. “Drink, like, half that water bottle.” She set the bottle of NyQuil and the thermometer on your nightstand.

You drank obediently, then set the water bottle aside. You watched Amelia watching you and felt a surge of love for her furrowed eyebrows, a tell that she was working out how to solve a problem. In this case, the problem was you being sick.

“Now lay down,” Amelia commanded.

You did as you were told, grimacing as you laid your head back down on the pillow and the throbbing resumed.

Amelia leaned over you from her seat on the edge of the bed, brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of your face. She held your head gently, leaned down, and planted a kiss on your forehead. She covered the spot with a cool washrag, letting her fingers linger on your skin a bit longer.

“Thank you, Dr. Shepherd,” you whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Amelia said, walking back to her side of the bed.

Amelia pulled a bottle of hand sanitizer out of her nightstand and squirted some into the palm of her hand.

“Are you using hand sanitizer?” you said, peeking out from under the washcloth.

“Duh. I don’t want your nasty bug.”

“You don’t want to be sick together?”

“Of course not,” Amelia said, pulling up the covers. “I want to be healthy together.”

You sighed. “Fine.”

After a few moments of rustling, Amelia spoke again. “Having established the consistency of the biomarker in a fairly homogenous group of high-risk participants, the broader app–”

“What’s happening right now?” you interjected.

“It’ll take about 30 minutes for the meds to kick in,” Amelia explained. “I’m reading you to sleep.”

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s so sweet!” You reached over to squeeze Amelia’s thigh.

You couldn’t see it underneath the washrag, but Amelia looked at you with so much love, she thought she might burst. She shook her head and picked up her e-reader again.

“Now, go to sleep and listen to JAMA Neurology.”

You breathed deeply and nodded as Amelia continued reading.

“... the broader applicability of the derived threshold from Oxford Discovery was in a multicenter cohort consisting of a heterogenous group with variable risk of developing PD or related dementia, including GBA1…”