#CODEBLUED an independent & selective original character DR SYLVIE MONROE based on hbo's 'the pitt'
penned by danni (30, she/her, uk), established may 2026
carrd
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
art blog(derogatory)
d e v o n
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

oozey mess
hello vonnie

styofa doing anything
Misplaced Lens Cap

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
NASA
Cosimo Galluzzi
noise dept.

if i look back, i am lost
Game of Thrones Daily

seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia

seen from Brazil

seen from Morocco
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Norway
seen from Thailand
@codeblued
#CODEBLUED an independent & selective original character DR SYLVIE MONROE based on hbo's 'the pitt'
penned by danni (30, she/her, uk), established may 2026
carrd

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✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺.
₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of loose quotes taken from various characters from hades (supergiant games). these quotes are from the first game of the series. writing/roleplaying prompts. from fluff to angst! feel free to edit as you see fit, especially since some are gendered.
❝ i’m leaving. try and stop me. ❞ ❝ that could have gone better. ❞ ❝ why can’t you just stay? ❞ ❝ i wish you could come with me. ❞ ❝ you’re coming with me. ❞ ❝ i have to take you back. ❞ ❝ but for you, i will be making an exception. ❞ ❝ whew… they’re gone. ❞ ❝ now, come on, we got places to be! ❞ ❝ may the fates favour your journey. ❞ ❝ oh you know, i’d rather have my eyes put out, but thanks for offering! ❞ ❝ if only… ❞ ❝ you should be ashamed of yourself, and learn your place. ❞ ❝ ahh, so you are taking pity on me, then? ❞ ❝ i’m sorry that it has to be this way. ❞ ❝ you’re late. ❞ ❝ will i see you soon? ❞ ❝ did you miss me? ❞ ❝ i’m home. ❞ ❝ we’re heading home. ❞ ❝ you… came back? ❞ ❝ i hope i didn’t keep you waiting very long, did i? ❞ ❝ is something wrong? ❞ ❝ i can’t believe this. ❞ ❝ i’m in your debt. ❞ ❝ there’s going to be payback, you know. ❞ ❝ … damn you. ❞ ❝ this is for you. ❞ ❝ do you remember me? my name is—ah, nevermind. ❞ ❝ i’m not who you think i am. ❞ ❝ keep following that heart of yours. ❞ ❝ to hell with this place! ❞ ❝ fear is for the weak. ❞ ❝ oh, look at you, you poor, poor thing, you’re hurt! ❞ ❝ you’re such a sweetheart. ❞ ❝ you brought this on yourself. ❞ ❝ no need to thank me, mate. ❞ ❝ please, i don’t want to do this… ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do this… ❞ ❝ only the best for you. ❞ ❝ i hope you’re right. ❞ ❝ gods grant me strength… ❞ ❝ that is the worst idea i think i’ve ever heard. ❞ ❝ do you understand how little sense that makes? ❞ ❝ look what i found! ❞ ❝ something’s changed about the beating of your heart. ❞ ❝ no wonder they don’t like you. ❞ ❝ wish i could be there to see your face. ❞ ❝ i’ll earn your favour yet. ❞ ❝ how bad could it be? ❞ ❝ hello there, handsome. ❞ ❝ … this is the cheesiest thing i’ve heard from you. ❞ ❝ what has gotten into you? ❞ ❝ blood and darkness! ❞ ❝ lucky for you, i’ve no pride like many others here. ❞ ❝ it’s over. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ go. away. i won’t repeat myself. ❞ ❝ i knew your heart was true. ❞ ❝ let’s kiss and make up! ❞ ❝ mischief, me? oh please! ❞ ❝ i don’t know how you can stand this kind of thing… ❞ ❝ you tried. that’s what matters. ❞ ❝ a man after my own heart… ❞ ❝ why won’t you give up? ❞ ❝ ever so stubborn, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ life and death, one and the same. ❞ ❝ you’re running from yourself. again. ❞ ❝ what do you want from me? leave me alone. we’ve nothing to discuss anymore. ❞ ❝ i cannot bring myself to stay upset with you forever. ❞ ❝ the truth is i’m a lover, not a fighter. ❞ ❝ i have to see her! ❞ ❝ so how goes wilful disobedience of late? ❞ ❝ you think all these gifts will make things go back to the way they were? ❞ ❝ we’re older now—i’d hope we’re wiser, too. ❞ ❝ i have to go. ❞ ❝ we were having such a good time! ❞ ❝ time is up. ❞ ❝ you’re so reckless. ❞ ❝ thank you for always keeping me on my toes. ❞ ❝ your luck’s run out. ❞ ❝ i don’t know why i bother with you, honestly. ❞ ❝ may i call you my friend? ❞ ❝ i’d like to make a toast, to you! ❞ ❝ no need for special thanks. ❞ ❝ i’ve some memories i’m not quite ready to give up on yet. ❞ ❝ i’ll break your heart. ❞
"Yeah?" Something in Carter tensed at the admission, all too aware how mere years ago, clubbing would have seemed fun to him. "What did you picture for the night then? In my experience, bars tend to lead to only a handful of outcomes, and very few of those bode well for the straight and narrow."
While he avoided Sylvie's eyes, he sensed her out of his peripheral, hovering while she waited for her drink. "It probably doesn't help for me to tell you not to beat yourself up about it, right? I'd be a real hypocrite if I did. But... I mean, we're only human."
"You're right," he murmured. "It doesn't help...but thanks all the same."
Maybe "being human" was the problem. Carter always had larger than life expectations for himself, and he became frustrated and depressed whenever his lofty goals didn't pan out.
Sylvie finally returned his lukewarm pleasantries, and then she left, and that was that. He hated the strange emptiness that immediately followed her departure. While entertaining her casual conversation, it had been rather easy to pretend all was well, and that he had a modicum of a normal life, but with the young doctor returning to her table, to her friends, the stark reminder of everything he didn't have came launching up at his heart and snapped its hungry jaws.
With a shaky finger, Carter signaled to the bartender for another Manhattan.
--
Drinking alone had its advantages. Unfortunately for Carter, he wasn't about to experience any of those. Sylvie popped up at his side again, earnest and soft as she asked to join him.
For whatever reason, he found himself incapable of speech. Glancing up at her in wall-eyed silence, his brow creased while he watched her park herself on the adjacent bar stool, her body facing the front as she settled in.
"Mind?" he echoed. "Yes. I-I mean...no." Not that he had much choice. "Looks like you've already made yourself at home, so I'd be kind of a dick if I told you to pound sand."
Idly pushing his half-empty drink back and forth between his hands, Carter glanced her way, cautious. "Was this place even your first choice? Ah...Pittsburgh, not this bar. Seems a little rough around the edges for you."
Sylvie struck him as naive and sweet, and her attractiveness likely lent her the pick of whatever calling she wanted. Even though he, himself, had practiced in a rough urban area, she seemed better-suited for the ER cases that involved careless housewives cutting themselves preparing dinner, or some curious gentleman getting a flashlight stuck up his anal cavity.
Whatever had possessed her to come over and sit with Carter despite their clear goodbye was tinged with an elevated unease - An anxiety, perhaps. Embarrassment is likely what it could have been if the edges hadn't been softened by the three drinks she'd consumed in the past couple of hours.
"If you want me to go, I'll go." Her gaze finally found him for a moment, lips curved into a small smile to show that her words were genuine. There was no use sticking around if she wasn't truly wanted. "But I know if I were in your shoes, I'd like to have a friend with me."
The question caught her off guard, taking a moment to consider it - Nobody had asked her that before and Sylvie wasn't entirely sure she knew the answer herself. "I don't think I had a first choice. I just wanted to get as far from home as possible," came her explanation, before she then clarified: "Phoenix. So here seemed as good a place as any, and UPenn has a great med school, so..."
So it seemed like divine fate when she'd received her acceptance letter in the mail, the promise of a world away from her family name so sweet that it took all her might not to board the plane that very instant.
"What about you?" she asked back, angling herself more towards Carter now that the silence had disapated. "You're from Chicago, right?"
she glanced down at the papers as sylvie handed them over, already scanning the handwriting before looking back up at her. "seriously, no problem," she said easily. "i actually really enjoy working with the spanish-speaking patients." the relief on sylvie's face was enough to make her smile. "and i haven't seen my grandma in years, so you're actually doing me a favor. i can get my latina grandmother fix." the brunette chuckled softly before motioning for the other to lead the way.
andrea had seen plenty of providers get frustrated when communication became difficult. the fact that sylvie seemed more concerned about the patient being comfortable than about the inconvenience itself earned points in her book. "buenas tardes, good afternoon," she greeted gently as they entered the room. "me llamo andrea, soy una de las enfermeras my name's andrea, i'm one of the nurses. solo queríamos asegurarnos de entender bien sus síntomas y tener una idea clara de por qué vino hoy, así que vine para ayudar con la traducción. we just wanted to make sure we understood your symptoms and had a clear picture as to why you're here today, so i came to help with translating."
Perhaps her new resolution should be to learn a base level of Spanish, having seen a few Spanish speaking patients come through the doors in the short time since she'd been here. It wouldn't do any harm -- Her conversant French rarely got so much use these days and she could probably use it to boost her skills in another language.
Leading Andrea back into the room, they were both greeted by the warm smile of Mrs Herrera, an expectant gaze upon the elderly woman's face. "All right, Mrs Herrera," Sylvie started. "I've brought Andrea to help out."
As soon as Andrea began talking, the other woman's relief was evident, her own words rapidly tumbling from her lips in a way that they could not with Sylvie. She could make out certain words but nothing solid enough to form a diagnosis, glancing towards Andrea with a questioning expression.
On the whole, Robby liked to make a point of having a quick chat with every new member of staff that settled into his ED. He had, unfortunately, not had the chance beyond a quick hello; he was constantly being dragged away from one emergency to the next, and he just hadn't been able to actually speak to her. So as he knew that Sylvie was still there but needing the end of her shift, he'd asked Dana to send her his way.
Wrapped up in finishing off some paperwork, he'd also forgotten that he'd done such a thing, and it was only when she approached him that he glanced up a nd remembered. "Oh, uh, yes, yes I did." he offered a hint of a smile, saving and logging out, getting to his feet. "Why don't you… come with me?" he said slowly, gesturing her to follow, deciding to dip into the currently empty doctor's lounge. He leaned his hips against the counter, loosely folding his arms. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to you earlier. I wanted to ask how your first day has gone; how are you settling in?"
"Why don't you... come with me?" The words managed to immediately unfurl a spike of anxiety within her, thinking back on the events of the day and if there was anything that warranted punishment. Sure, it hadn't been perfect -- Questions had been pelted her way almost from the moment she set foot inside, so was it any wonder she'd gotten a couple wrong? Was that a fireable offense?
All that and more circled her mind on the brief walk into the doctor's lounge, lifting her chin and swallowing down her fear as Dr Robby turned to face her. Then... relief. His question earned a flicker of surprise, a moment of blinking as lips parted to scramble together an answer.
"Oh... yeah, good. Fine. I got through it, so..." A beat. "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

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"Show them. Show them what you're really all about."
NOW YOU SEE IT (2005): STARTERS
Maybe this was rock bottom. Knees hugged to her chest as she huddled on the cold linoleum floor, Sylvie wondered if she'd ever find the strength to go back out there, the tail end of her sudden onset of panic consisting of sodden cheeks and errant hiccups. If Belle hadn't found her, who knows how long she would have stayed in here? Until a doctor came along and saw a light on in a deserted lounge? Until they'd closed up for the night and she was stuck?
Despite her current state, Sylvie couldn't help a slight laugh at Belle's words, sniffling as she wiped at her eyes with her wrist. It had all been too much: A kid dying on her table this morning, a teenage girl sobbing in her arms this afternoon, and now the evening setting in with a patient screaming at her for doing her job, the words hitting just a little too close for comfort.
"What if this is it?" she asked, shoulders lifting into a shrug as she let her chin fall forwards onto her knees. "What if I'm not cut out for this like you are?"
Someone with taste? Carter grinned before he could stop it, turning slightly away to take another sip from his cocktail. Once upon a time, yes. Absolutely. In fact, his grandmother would’ve commanded that he show some decorum, and his parents would’ve raised holy hell if they thought he was out tarnishing the Carter family name, but here in Pittsburgh, their reach didn’t have quite the level of sway as it did back in Chicago. They didn’t leave the city streets quaking in submission. There might’ve been a tremor here, but not the seismic damage that inevitably followed within his old stomping grounds.
“I’m afraid I’m fresh out of taste,” he muttered. “But if this place is so off-putting, why are you here?”
There was no judgment in his tone, merely curiosity. And as she flashed him a sheepish grin, he found himself offering a ghost of a smile in return. “Five whole minutes?” he echoed, feigning horror. “Well… I’ve always been told I’m not much for following rules. Guess I'll have to disappoint you.”
Sylvie mentioned friends, and Carter discreetly glanced over her shoulder, curious to see what kind of company she kept. “You’re getting your last drink by yourself?” he asked. “Your friends couldn’t even see you off properly?”
Perhaps he was digging in the proverbial knife. It wasn’t any of his business — not really — and once she reciprocated with a question of her own, a slight grimace tore across his features. It was pretty pathetic being here by himself, but he hadn’t anticipated anyone might approach, and least especially not someone he (vaguely) knew.
“No,” he replied, praying his tone didn’t sound as miserable as he seemed. “I finished my rounds about thirty minutes ago, so I figured I’d top it off with some more bad decisions.” His chin stiffened somewhat. “I assume you heard about the grandmother who coded. I made a bad call.”
Carter always tried not to make these cases personal — really, he did — but dammit, whenever he’d seen Mrs. Overton on the table, he’d thought of his own grandmother, and his stomach had nearly folded in on itself, making it near impossible for him to react with a clear and level head.
“She was nearing the end of her life, anyway,” one of the med students had reassured.
It wasn’t the slightest bit comforting. Not to Carter, when he always felt as if he had something to prove.
Not wishing to dwell, he deflected, “Well, don’t let me keep you from your ‘bigger and better’ things. I wouldn’t wager a 'late-night pity party' is high on your to-do list. But, uh...” Here, he offered her a salute with his glass. "It was nice meeting you. Properly this time."
He wouldn't say he was dismissing her, per se, but ever since his start at PMTC, no one had truly extended the invitation for a deeper acquaintance. It seemed that those at the hospital were more content to stay in their own lane, and he appreciated that.
It was a fair enough question, one that Sylvie hadn't expected to come shooting back to her, and she reacted with another shrug. Where else was there to go that did cheap enough cocktails for a group of women at varying stages in their lives? It was loud enough that any awkward silences didn't feel quite so deafening, the music terrible enough that they could laugh about it.
"I'm asking myself the same question," she replied, grin unfaltering before the bartender came into view. Hastily asking for one of their specials and tapping her card onto the machine, there was a moment of hesitation at the mention of her friends seeing her off - Looks like they were getting into personal territory. "No, its okay. We're not that close, really - They want to go off to some club thing and its not what I pictured for the night."
Although Sylvie had assumed that nobody was joining Carter, to hear that he was there alone still somehow surprised her, partially convinced that he had a friend or a date hidden away in the bathroom. And then... oh.
"Yeah, I heard. I'm... really sorry." Losing a patient was the most difficult part of the job, one that she was learning very quickly in her first real year as a doctor. "It probably doesn't help for me to tell you not to beat yourself up about it, right? I'd be a real hypocrite if I did. But... I mean, we're only human."
"It was nice meeting you. Properly this time."
If that wasn't a dismissal, Sylvie didn't know what was. A flash of surprise crossed her expression before the previous smile plastered back onto her lips, wrapping her hand around the glass as it was placed on the bar in front of her. "Yeah, definitely. It was nice to meet you too."
And then, without fully realising her feet had carried her away, she was back at the booth, not even trying to figure out the tail-end of the others' conversation. Her mind was on the man she'd just met, the heaviness that seemed to surround him weighing her down like lead, and she did everything she could not to glance back at him - There was no use giving her friends the wrong impression.
It wasn't even fifteen minutes later that the others were hugging her goodbye, pleas of "are you sure you don't want to come?" met with a firm nod of the head. With her jacket gathered under her arm, a fleeting glance was sent towards the bar, the sight of Carter right where she'd left him filling her with a sense of strange unease.
"Mind if I join you?"
She was beside him again, her body acting on impulse before her mind could catch up with it. Before Carter had even responded, she was already sat at the adjacent stool, eyes fixed forwards so she didn't have to face his potential irritation. On a day as terrible as today, somebody should be with him.
The day shift was never dull---from rescuing a crayon that had 'mysteriously' found it's self wedged up a 3 year olds nose, the little girl had confided in him later about how she'd just wanted to 'smell pink', to a minor head wound of a boy who'd taken a tumble from a tree in his back yard which had only required a few stitches in the end, the child's mother had been distraught at the idea 'not my baby!' she'd cried into Sam's shoulder, leaving the young doctor in a rather awkward position. In the end they'd managed to get the stitches in and the little boy had be ESTATIC at the idea of a scar, his mother on the other hand had not. The rest of his day had went well, news of an abandoned baby down in ED reached them around midday---his senior resident having had given him the quick rundown, baby jane doe would be his responsibility and quite frankly, Sam wasn't all that sad about it. He'd just been finishing up her cot, fresh sheets and a nappy caddy prepped when a gentle KNOCK KNOCK interrupted his thoughts. With a gentle smile on his lips he turned to find the newest ED student Dr Monroe, he'd been briefly introduce when consulting on a case down in the PITT. "Depends on who's needing the room, you might be a little big for this room, Dr Monroe right?" He asked mostly out of pleasantries as he approached the two, his attention solely on the wiggling bundle he assumed was the famous baby jane doe, almost cooing at her. "You must be our jane doe, you're lucky miss---you've got the best room in peds, how's she been?"
Part of Sylvie didn't want to go home just yet, content enough to hold the little bundle in her arms and actually feel useful in a way that she never could at home. What waited for her in her poky apartment except leftover Chinese food and piles of laundry she was procrastinating putting away?
"Well, its quieter here than down at the hub, so I could be tempted." A grin was sent to the other, the urge to stick her hand out in greeting only curbed by the fact her arms were, in fact, full. "Yeah. Sylvie. I've heard great things."
Great things. As in Dana calling him a sweet kid and Langdon not disagreeing was the epitome of a stunning reference, but it was good enough for Sylvie.
"She's good as gold, really. Dr Robby said he sent over her test results, but everything looks normal enough. She's taken formula like a champ and had a normal bowel movement, so she just needs monitoring until social services can find her a foster family. Estimation puts her at about three weeks, give or take."
It was then that little Jane's eyes fluttered open, ocean blue and blinking up at the strange lights before fixing them on Dr Bennett, intent enough that she looked wise beyond her years. The sight of it earned a slight laugh. "I think she likes you."
The statement and question that followed made Ally chuckle. It wasn't the first time she was asked, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last; night shift was a special place and not everyone could handle it. But, for Ally, it felt way more comfortable than the day shift.
"I don't think I have a secret," she shrugged. "It's more...I don't know. It's hard to explain. The logistical answer is I like seeing the sun when I leave. When I did day shifts early on I woke up just as the sun was rising and by the time I left it was already set. That sucked. But I also really like the crew. Dr. Abbot is a great leader and teacher. Not that Dr. Robby isn't, but their styles are different, you know? And I like seeing all the different types of cases we get at night. It could be a kid with the stomach flu or a car accident or something insane I can't even think of."
She turned her chair left to right, one foot sliding on the floor to keep herself from over rotating. "Is this your first night shift?"
The idea of seeing the sun rising upon leaving her shift did instil a warm sense of excitement, a novelty when day shifts meant your off hours were usually plunged into darkness. But it didn't stop the exhaustion rattling through her bones, a tired smile sent to the other at her explanation.
"I did night shifts when I was a student sometimes, but... yeah, first one as a resident. I didn't think it would be that different, but boy was I wrong." Maybe if she worked them often enough she'd get used to it, her body acclimating to being awake at such an odd hour. "Its not, like, bad. But people seem way more honest at night, don't they? I ask a patient how they are and suddenly I'm getting their deepest secret."
headcanon questions
if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the questions are being sent for . feel free to edit these as you see fit .
🌟 What’s something small they did as a child that hinted at who they’d become?
❤️ Who is the one person they’d drop everything for, no questions asked?
💔 What’s the one wound (physical / emotional) they’ll never fully recover from?
🗡️ What’s their “I’ve killed for less” trigger?
☀️ What’s their happiest childhood memory?
🌧️ What kind of weather matches their soul?
🍽️ What meal do they cook when they need to feel like themselves again?
🎶 What song instantly makes them emotional & why?
🌙 Do they sleep peacefully / fight nightmares every night?
🔒 What’s a secret they’ll take to their grave?
🪞 What do they secretly hate about their own appearance?
💪 What random skill are they weirdly proud of?
👶 Baby picture of them - what’s the most embarrassing thing about it?
🏠 Describe their home when no one’s watching—messy, spotless, chaotic cozy?
😭 What always makes them cry, even if they hate admitting it?
😂 What’s the dumbest thing they’ve ever laughed at for way too long?
🧸 Do they still have a childhood comfort object? Where is it now?
✏️ What nickname do they secretly love being called?
⚔️ How do they act when they’re furious but have to stay polite?
🩸 What’s the worst injury they’ve ever had & the story behind it?
🕊️ What would instantly calm them down in a panic attack?
🔥 What’s something they’d burn the world down to protect?
🌹 What scent reminds them of the person they loved/love most?
🪥 What’s their most oddly specific daily routine?
💔 What’s the one apology they’re still waiting for that’ll never come?
🃏 Are they the type to forgive / hold a grudge until the end of the universe?
🌌 What’s their biggest “what if” that keeps them up at night?
🦋 What was their “I’m not a kid anymore” moment?
🎭 Do they wear a mask in public? What’s the real them like underneath?
🧳 If they had to leave home forever with only one bag, what do they pack?
🌑 What’s the darkest thought they’ve ever had about themselves?
☕ What’s their comfort drink?
🖤 What’s a “villain” trait they actually possess?
🤝 Who is the one person they never want to disappoint?
🎁 What gift would utterly destroy them (in a good / bad way)?
🩹 How do they react when someone they love is hurt?
🌅 Are they a sunrise / sunset person - what do they think about while looking at their favorite?
🧣 What texture/clothing item makes them feel safe?
🦉 What piece of advice do they give everyone but never follow themselves?
🔪 What’s the most violent thing they’ve ever done for love / survival?
🦋 What seemingly insignificant memory do they cherish the most?
🌹 What is their love language & how badly do they need it right now?
🪨 What’s the hardest choice they’ve ever made?
🧋 What food/drink do they hate that everyone else loves?
🕰️ If they could relive one day of their life, which would it be?
👑 In their own story, are they the hero / villain / someone else entirely?
🌡️ What temperature do they keep their home at & why?
🧸 What would their younger self think of them now?
💌 What’s the letter / text they’ll never send?
⚰️ What do they want written on their gravestone / what do they want people to remember them for?

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NOW YOU SEE IT (2005): STARTERS
a collection of quotes, phrases, and sayings from the 2005 Disney Channel Original Movie, Now You See It. change & alter as needed.
"What I'm about to show you was never, ever meant to be seen."
"Make sure they spell your name right in the credits."
"The secret to any good trick is misdirection."
"Okay, so I'm not the best at making friends."
"I've tried pretending I'm into lip gloss and text messaging and hanging out at the mall. I just can't ever seem to pull it off."
"No, I can do this, all right? I can do this."
"This really matters to you, huh?"
"You're my last chance."
"They've been scamming us from the start."
"You could come up with something like that again, right?"
"Remember, you never know how strong your magic is until you test it."
"Wait a minute! We're not done talking here!"
"Right now, the only heartbreaking obstacle in my life is you."
"Look, there's things about me you're not gonna understand no matter how much we talk."
"A magician's greatest asset is the ability to think in unusual ways."
"So, uh, [name], now that you've done all this intense-but-not-very-interesting-to-watch thinking, anything you'd like to hop up and show us?"
"Have I mentioned you're making it hard for me to concentrate?"
"It might help if you try cluing me in, you know."
"I'm not the enemy, you know."
"Don't be a freak."
"I think you're hiding something."
"If something's going on, maybe I can help."
"I need to sort this out myself."
"I've got a feeling we might actually really like each other if we didn't have to be in combat mode every second."
"Can we try calling a truce for a minute or two?"
"It's past curfew. It's dark. We're gonna get caught."
"Could you please tell me what you're doing?"
"I can't believe you figured this out."
"Uh, guys, I don't think this is such a good idea."
"This place gives me the creeps."
"Have I mentioned that I'm a little claustrophobic?"
"It's not like anything bad is gonna happen, right?"
"Can someone please explain to me what just happened?"
"Things just keep getting stranger by the second."
"A good magician never reveals the secrets of his tricks."
"What if he actually has magical powers?"
"Do you have any idea how crazy you sound?"
"I don't know how I did it. I don't understand anything about any of this. These things just happen to me."
"You're really learning how to play this game, aren't you?"
"No one knows better than a professional magician what nonsense real powers are."
"Whatever way it ends up, it's just gonna be a complete disaster for me."
"Wait, you don't... you don't honestly think you have real powers, do you?"
"Look, I need to explain something to you, but you've got to promise me that you will just sit there quietly and let me get through it."
"I'm a freak. I'm a freak."
"It didn't just appear. I made it appear."
"But how is any of that possible?"
"I have been driving myself crazy trying to figure out what's wrong with me."
"I can't control my magic, [name]. I don't know how or when things are going to happen. They just do."
"That must be so scary for you."
"Maybe what you need more than anything is just one person who's really gonna believe in you."
"Isn't that what friends are for?"
"You've got nothing to lose, [name]."
"It's common for the powers to first appear around the time of puberty."
"Are you up to it, [name]? Tell us. Are you up to it, or not?"
"Instead of going for far-fetched answers, why don't we look at a more logical explanation right in front of us?"
"I guess it walked up here all by itself, didn't it?"
"[Name], wait! You can't run away from me!"
"Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it."
"You actually had me fooled for a minute there."
"You're exactly like everybody else I've ever known -- setting me up to make me look like a fool."
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe this has nothing to do with you?"
"You know what? Tell it to someone who cares."
"Sorry I was ever lame enough to imagine we were friends."
"Now you see it, now you don't."
"[Name], I know all about you. I know about your struggles, I know about your confusion, and I know about your powers."
"I didn't find you. You found me."
"If I'm so great and magical, then how come my powers are always totally out of my control?"
"[Name], I have felt every single thing that you've been feeling. I was exactly like you, alone and afraid."
"That's where you are, [name]. You're home."
"We'll work on it. We'll work on it together. That's what mentors are for."
"He's the only one that truly understands me."
"For the first time in forever, I'm feeling like a normal kid."
"Show them. Show them what you're really all about."
"Please, you have to believe me. I know what I saw and heard."
"You're probably just overwrought and overworked. We've been asking a lot of you."
"No, you can't do this to me!"
"Save it, okay? You had your chance to speak up, and you didn't."
"I mean, how was I supposed to believe you, huh?"
"You have no idea how happy I've been lately, feeling like a normal kid for the first time in years."
"If you want my opinion, I think what you really came here searching for was to find somebody who could accept you as you are."
"We're in this together now, [name]. I'll be right there with you."
"Isn't that kind of like cheating?"
"We can do great things together, [name]. Don't let me down. I'm counting on you."
"I've been there, and I'm not interested in going back."
"Please listen to me. I really don't want to see you get hurt."
"You don't give up, do you?"
CAILEE SPAENY as ASHLEY MILLER in BEEF S2 (2026)
friendly reminder that if our muses accidentally brush hands once, i will immediately begin constructing a 47 scenes of emotional slow burn in my head.
So are you someone that can ask for help or are you the eldest daughter?
[ stitch ] sender stitches receivers wound.
x
The world felt off-kilter from this angle, a bad dream filled with starched bedsheets and fluorescent lighting as she tried to anchor herself within the situation. It wasn't every day that Sylvie got to experience the other side of her place of work, her day off proving a lot more eventful than she'd originally planned.
"God, this is so weird," she muttered as she watched Bennett prepare the tools for her stitching, a better sight than the 10cm gash that screamed from her thigh. "All right, Bennett -- Show me how you get those patient satisfaction scores."

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➔ stop fighting me and let me help!
x
"I'm not fighting you." Pain radiated through her temple, everything in her holding back the urge to laugh the whole thing off, wince away the trauma of whatever humiliation ritual she was being put through. The fact of the matter was that she was on shift, and a little knock to the ground wasn't going to stop that -- Even if her head had managed to somehow whack itself against the linoleum flooring during the impact.
And sure, maybe the real horror of it all was that she'd had a witness to the spectacular failure, but Langdon really wasn't making this any easier to forget.
"I have a patient waiting for me in room twenty, so... look, I'll get myself checked afterwards." A hand instinctively reached up to touch the tender swelling before the sight of slick red on her fingers earned a groan. Great.
This was stupid. This was such a bad idea. The prospect of being in an open space with tons and tons of bodies, meaning tons and tons of opportunities for attack left Carter with a sour taste in the back of his throat. His therapist had encouraged this kind of push -- that he should absolutely do what scared him. But what if nearly every damn thing under the sun terrified him nowadays?
Remaining curled over a Manhattan and nursing it like his life depended on it -- hell, who was to say it didn't? -- he only turned his head when he was inexplicably gripped by the urge to look over his shoulder.
To his surprise, he saw one of his coworkers, a first-year resident named Dr. Sylvie Monroe, if he recalled correctly, and not exactly someone he wanted to run into in a place like this.
Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it), Sylvie brightened when they locked eyes, and she gave him a chipper wave. "I didn't take you for a 'terrible bar on a Friday night' kinda guy."
Unbidden, Carter snorted, an incredulous smile tugging into place. "Yeah?" he asked, swiveling toward her on his stool. "Then what 'kind of guy' would you take me for? The straight and narrow?" Definitely not anymore. "Do I need to be home by ten? I have at least until midnight before I turn into a pumpkin."
Appraising her, a hint of unease still prickled at the back of his neck. People already gossiped about him. Not exactly in a malicious nature, so much as out of curiosity, so he dreaded what Sylvie and the others at PMTC might have heard. He'd made a point not to talk about his attack at County General, but it wasn't as if a quick Google search wouldn't unearth article after article of "Chicago's Golden Boy" getting knifed in the kidney, and then his young med student coding as a consequence to his ineptitude.
Carter blinked up at Sylvie, wondering if he should offer her a spot to sit down. It would've been polite, but it seemed that even basic manners had been cut out of him. Crippling back pain, rehab, and therapy had become his new normal, so he wasn't exactly going to be the poster child for Mr. Congeniality anytime soon.
"Are you, uh..." Here, he discreetly glanced over her shoulder. "Are you here alone, or...?" Wait. Did that sound creepy? "Just wondering," he quickly fumbled. "I don't usually see you and the nurses separated, so I figured you'd be here in packs."
It had felt like a mistake as soon as she took in his demeanour, observing him in the way she would usually save for patients - Hunched over, seemingly alone, not to mention the briefest flash of something not altogether pleased when he'd first seen her. Maybe he didn't want company, and who was Sylvie to judge him for that?
What kind of guy would she take him for? Considering they'd uttered all of two words to each other before this fateful meeting, she could honestly say that he'd stumped her there, a guilty grin gracing her lips as she shrugged it off. "I don't know, someone with taste? And if you're aiming for a ten o'clock curfew then I'm sorry to say you're over by five whole minutes."
There was a beat, two seconds of silence wherein Sylvie opened her mouth to make her excuses, before another question was sent her way. "Oh, no - I'm here with friends. But they're about to go on to bigger and better things, so I'm just grabbing my last drink before I call it a night." The promise of her own apartment was calling like a siren, a mental plan to put on some terrible TV and heat up some mac and cheese forming as she stood.
The idea that she'd be out on a Friday night with the nurses almost earned a laugh, a shake of the head replacing it. No, they weren't friends like that, not outside of work. It was difficult enough trying to form any sort of connection with anyone whilst on shift, what with the fact she got pulled away from every conversation before it could finish.
"Are you... here with anyone?" It wasn't prying, she told herself, not when he'd asked the question first. Sylvie had heard an entire novel worth of rumours about the man before her since he'd started at the Pitt, each one more outlandish than the last, but the gossip that fed through those halls were always to be taken with a pinch of salt.