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little-pondhead · 1 year

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Fenton Family on Vacation (part 3)

Original Post

Part One⬅️➡️Part Two

(This is kind of a filler cause I’m trying to get an AO3 account set up, but Elle fighting a rat just got stuck in my head and I couldn’t get it out.)

Lights come on in a studio. Two people sit behind a glass desk, expressions neutral.

"Good evening, and welcome to C3TV. It's 6:45 p.m. central time on August 4th, 20XX. I'm Kimberly Anderson."

"And I'm Frank Meyers. For today's Fifteen Minutes of Heroes, we'll focus on one man in particular; The Flash."

A screen turns on behind the news anchors. 'Fifteen Minutes of Heroes' is written in bold letters. The screen cuts to a close-up picture of the Flash.

"That's right, Frank. Our city's protector is not often in the spotlight, so let's get down to business."

"Right you are, Kim. To start with, Captain Cold was spotted outside the Flash Museum earlier today. It is still unknown why he was there first, but Flash was quick on the scene and chased the rogue through the downtown shopping district."

A blurry photo of Captain Cold is shown.

"What stopped Flash from arresting him immediately?"

"Well, Kim, according to CCPD reports, a recent delivery of high-alloy austenitic stainless steel was stolen at a checkpoint before it could make its way to S.T.A.R. Labs. It's now known Captain Cold was the culprit and used the metal to produce new weapons. These new weapons gave both Flash and civilians alike a scare, as the rate at which they generate ice is astounding."

An image of S.T.A.R. Labs comes up. It switches to the silhouette of a crate with a question mark, and then a silent video appears. The video is of the recent destruction in the downtown area and captures crowds of people milling around. Some are cleaning up debris, and some are trying to evacuate their families and neighbors. Several emergency service trucks are lighting up the whole street. One man has a flamethrower and is trying to thaw out his car.

"Yes, traffic was horrible on the way to work. This new ice has a particularly high melting point, so its removal is still ongoing. Flash was spotted chasing the captain but frequently had to sidetrack for quick evacuation. Captain Cold was shooting to hurt today. There was no regard for civilian safety or public property. It seemed like he wanted to cripple the city. A few neighboring counties will pitch in for relief efforts; more at eight."

Snippets of their fight all over the area are edited together. Pictures of the destruction show up.

"Reports say their path took them west through the district before making a sharp turn on Roanoke Parkway and doubling back to Central City Plaza. There, Flash cornered the rogue. You can see the two arguing through nearby store cameras, but no audio can be provided. Captain Cold is visibly angered and takes a hostage at one point. The hostage, one Lacey James, was under threat for less than a minute before the Flash stole her away and returned her to waiting police officers. Cold is upset by this and douses the whole plaza in a thick ice sheet."

A virtual map follows the path taken with a red line—the screen changes to an out-of-focus storefront video. Captain Cold has a blonde woman at gunpoint, but Flash disappears with the woman too fast for the cameras to follow. Flash returns a few seconds later. Captain Cold seems angered, and the cameras short out soon after.

"Uh oh, we all know how hard it is to walk on ice. Captain Cold obviously wanted to slow down the Flash, but why?"

"We're still not sure, Kim. I mean, it's his thing. But does anyone know why villains do what they do?"

"You have a point, Frank. But that's not why we're here today."

"No, it is not. While the Flash did his best, bless his heart, a few civilians were stuck inside the plaza with the two supers. No deaths have been reported citywide, and only a single person has been admitted to the ICU due to a case of hypothermia. More about this young soul can be found on our website and the link to their family's GOFUNDME. But aside from that, one of the civilians managed to get an interesting part of the fight on video. None of the stores in the area had working cameras at this point, so let's look at the video now. Please be warned, viewers' discretion is advised."

The video opens showing the face of a young teen. The video is obviously from the point of view of their phone. The teen is swearing, and viewers at home can hear a long string of beeps.

A voice from off-screen: "Yo! Are you getting this??"

The teen swears one last time, but the video's perspective is changed. The camera is peeking out into the plaza between a car tire and a chunk of ice. "[beep], it's so cold, man. It's [beep]ing August. I hope that kid is okay."

"It was nice of you to give that family your flannel."

"It was that or let that kid freeze, man. Now shut up. I'm tryin' to hear what they're saying!"

The two teens pipe down. The camera is adjusted a few times, but eventually, the audio is picked up. Flash can be heard arguing with Captain Cold, although the dialogue is spotty due to the range.

"-can't do that!"

"The-[beep]ing [beeeeeeep] upstairs--hospital-----"

"-new procedure-----s West--gone clean---"

"NEVER! THOSE---[beep] this, GG---home--too sick---"

"-can help! S.T.A.R. Labs---new meds--won't------"

Flash is cut off by a scream of frustration from Captain Cold. The rogue begins to point and shoot at Flash, who has to zoom out of the way. Viewers can tell there are many close calls, as Flash stumbles more than once due to the slick ice.

Suddenly, a swirling green portal appears and spits out a figure right into the Flash's path. A loud smack is heard when they hit the ground face-first. One teen behind the camera sucks in a sharp breath, and the other whispers, "Ouch, that had to hurt." Flash has no room to stop and trips over the body.

"[BEEP]!" Flash face-plants and doesn't get back up. Captain Cold pauses, staring at the two on the ground. A loud groan is heard a second later, and the figure raises its head. The camera zooms in.

The figure was a glowing little girl with white hair and unnaturally green eyes. Glowing green blobs circle her head like cartoon birds. Bits of asphalt are stuck to her face, drawing green blood, but her skin heals as viewers watch.

The girl seemed disoriented, staring blankly at Flash and then at Captain Cold. The teen holding the phone can be heard scooting closer. The video shakes violently for a few seconds, but now viewers can listen to the conversation more clearly.

"Uh...hi?" Small animal noises are heard, and viewers realize it's coming from the blobs, whipping around faster than before.

"Where the [BEEP] did you come from?"

Whispers of astonishment come from the teens as the girl pushes herself off the ground and into the air, visibly struggling to stay afloat. "Hey, watch your [beep]ing language, dude. Children are present."

Captain Cold spluttered. "Wha-??"

The girl ignored the villain and turned towards the Flash. She bends over him, placing two fingers on his neck, presumably to check his pulse. Viewers see the girl wearing a big, black backpack in the shape of a ghost. From the camera's distance, it was difficult to determine what else she was wearing, but one of the teens said, "That's a sick outfit. I love the boots. Big 'Prometheus' vibes."

A scoff. "Yeah, no. I'm thinking 'Star Wars,' for sure."

An argument begins behind the camera, and the view tilts a bit since their attention is no longer on it.

A thin whine draws back the attention of the teens and the audience. Captain Cold is pointing a gun at the girl, who has a bemused expression on her face. Over the sound of the weapon, their quiet conversation cannot be heard.

(Later, a famous child psychologist would do a ten-minute interview for Beefood's new show, 'Cohabiting with Cryptids.' Analysis shows the child was actually terrified at Captain Cold's actions and more confused than she let on. Some comments point out that the girl attempted to put herself between the Flash and the rogue, proving that she hadn't meant the Flash any harm.)

Suddenly, the girl scoops up Flash into a fireman's carry and dodges an ice blast. The teen filming the event swears and drops their phone. Shuffling and more gunshots can be heard.

"You gotta chill out, man!"

"Ah, [beep], the screen cracked-"

"What?!"

"I can't-"

"Maybe a little shock therapy will get your Christmas spirit going!"

The shooting pauses. "It's Aug-AAAAAUGH!"

A scream startles the teens. It's coming from Captain Cold, and viewers can tell he's in pain.

The screen is still black.

"What the [beep], what the [beep]-"

"Is that lightning??"

"She's electrocuting him. How-"

"It's pink!"

"That's not what you should be focusing on right now!"

"But it's PINK LIGHTNING."

"She is literally burning holes into his parka, what the [beep]."

"Do you think Flash can make pink lightning? Should I ask him?"

"I don't [beep]ing know! She's going to kill him!"

"No, she isn't; look!"

A quiet moment. Captain Cold has stopped screaming, but small groans can be heard instead.

"She stopped, see?"

"How much electricity was that??"

"I dunno, but obviously not enough to kill him."

"You're very calm about this."

"Don't worry. I'll freak out later."

"Oh, Jesus-"

"Look!"

A clatter. "Sorry about that." The camera finally refocused, although it was shakier than before. The girl was hovering over the prone form of Captain Cold, still holding onto the Flash. Viewers could hear her voice tremble. "On the plus side, a few of your screws may have been knocked back into place from the electricity. Anyways, see you later, [beeeeep] Ice Prince!"

The camera swings around to face the second teen. Their eyes were lit up in fascination. "New life goal: Pull a Zarina from 'The Pirate Fairy' and figure out how to make pink lightning."

"Oh, my [beep], Lynne! Why-"

The video ends abruptly, and the news anchors fade back into view.

"Well, that was...interesting."

"I'd say so. We have seven minutes left; let's discuss the theories."

-----

Dani stared at the tv. A quick re-run of the video from Fifteen Minutes of Heroes was playing. It was well past ten now, but she'd managed to hole up in someone's party shack on top of some apartments. And while she refused to touch the poorly-hidden weed, Dani had no qualms about raiding the stash of (packaged) food and flipping on the old tube tv. She'd turned on the local news channel to learn more about this new world since wandering around for a few hours didn't tell her much.

And she'd learned a lot.

This was a world of superheroes. Dani didn't know how to feel about that. On the one hand, she thought it would be easier to care for herself. She wouldn't have to try as hard to hide her powers-hell, she was being featured on the news! And these people weren't discussing her imminent capture. No public warnings about reporting her, nothing about being a danger to society. These news reporters were doing their job, relaying the facts and throwing out theories about her identity and powers. Was she a super? A rookie? An alien? A meta? What was her name? The people on the screen flashed a phone number below and asked if anyone spotted her please call their hotline. Not to hunt her down but because she was a kid. A superpowered kid whom no one knew the identity of and seemed to be very much alone. And yeah, Dani knew there were people out there with malicious intentions. But the fact that she was on the news and not in a bad way was baffling.

(On the other hand, Dani knew her dad. A world full of superheroes meant a world full of supervillains that normal humans couldn't fight back against. Dani hoped with all her core that he'd stay away from the fighting. His Obsession wasn't protecting people, thank the Ancients, or they might never find each other.)

At the very least, Dani expected one or two comments about her 'horrible intentions' to hurt their city hero. Still, Flash himself came on in an interview earlier that night and said while he woke up in a really weird place, he did not have any injuries besides the ones he caused himself. Flash noted that "The kid even tried to make me comfortable. She made a cardboard nest for me to lay on and tried hiding me in a private location. Sure, that location was a dumpster, but it obviously worked because no one found me until I'd already woken up."

"In this picture, you're seen with a pair of-heh-handcuffs. Any idea why the girl might've attached you to that pipe?"

"If I had to hazard a guess, the kid is scared. I saw the footage. I know I got knocked out pretty quickly. But that girl did her best to defend me from my enemy and get me to safety. However, it's obvious that knocking out two men twice her size has her spooked. Those handcuffs were probably an attempt to restrain me so she could get a head start. Probably thought I was mad at her. She even left an apology note. But don't worry, Spooky. I'm not mad. Thank you for saving my hide, and I'm sorry I tripped over you."

Dani's eyes were glued to the screen. Those last words, Flash had addressed towards the camera. They were for her. But she told him her name, her human name. Why use Spooky?

Fuck it. I'm too tired for this.

-----

Whether she liked it or not, it was too easy for Elle to get used to life on the streets again. She'd done it before; stealing food, sleeping in alleys, squatting in abandoned buildings, always looking over her shoulder a second time.

She knew her family wasn't happy about her time on the streets-Danny especially. When they first separated, she could feel the pain from his core. He hated sending her away. But it was that or risk worse from the potential backlash. At least this time, she had an extra pair of eyes. Or five.

Blob ghosts were a common thing, especially around Amity. The more ecto-contaminated you were, the more blob ghosts tended to hang around. They weren't the weakened souls of the dead but more like collections of intense emotions imprinted on ectoplasm. Elle usually got a whole hoard following her back home, but in this new universe, only five managed to find the strength to follow her. Elle thought it was only appropriate to claim them as Hers and give them names.

So now, Noodle, Buffy, Preston, Shaniac, and Boogara were a part of her little fright. And as such, they became extremely handy in her city exploration. They were her scouts, her lookouts, her moral support. They could not, however, help out much when she was in a big fight, like yesterday. They just had to hide in her hair.

But with the smaller enemies, they really came through. For example, she was having a nasty brawl with a particularly ugly rat over a breakfast sandwich at the moment, and her blob buddies were being a huge help.

Yes, you heard right.

Elle was hungry. She'd been hungry before, and it was nothing new. But the fight and panic attack yesterday took a lot out of her. She'd barely touched the food at that weed shack, too afraid it was laced with something. So after picking an alley and transforming back into a human, Elle started looking around for something to eat. Her search led her to a small café, where she used the last of her allowance to buy an egg and ham breakfast sandwich. Which she promptly dropped onto the ground after face-planting for the second time in the past twelve hours. She was close to another alley, and Elle could only watch with wide eyes as a giant rat darted out into the sunlight, snatched the corner of the wrapper, and dragged it away. Why'd she fall? Elle tripped over a chunk of ice from the café doorway. ICE.

I should have kicked that man in the dick. Elle thought, scrambling up to chase after the rat. Her blob buddies led the way, harassing the rat as best they could to slow it down. They cornered it in a box. Buffy was chittering especially loud, leading the others.

Elle knelt and reached in blindly, grasping for anything. One of her knees was bleeding, and bits of broken glass were getting into the cut. "Where are y-ouch! Motherfucker! Did you just bite me??" The rat screamed and bit her again. "Oh fuck no! Get your ass out here, you little-"

The rat ran out, still dragging the wrapped sandwich. Elle tried stomping on it but missed. Noodle was handing around the rat's neck like a rope, trying to restrain it. Shaniac and Boogara were tugging at the sandwich, and Elle managed to snatch it up a second before the rat escaped into a shoe. Without hesitating, Elle punted the shoe into the street like a football.

She snorted in satisfaction when the shoe and its passenger were lost in the crowd.

"I can't believe that just happened." Elle whirled around but didn't see anyone. "Up here!"

Above her head, watching the whole thing with an amused expression, was a woman sticking her head out of a window from the second floor. The woman had tight brown curls and an equally tight face that looked strained when she smiled.

"You're that Spooky kid from the news, right?" The woman called. How did she-? Elle scrunched up her face. Right, blob ghosts.

"No!" Yeah, that was believable. "Anyways, mind your own business!" She stalked out of the alley, hard-won sandwich in hand, and did her best to ignore the woman's stifled giggles she could still hear two blocks away.

Okay, maybe staying as a ghost will be easier in this big new city.

-----

@passivedecept @lehana37 @kobol1 @cat-in-a-fedora @starkcravingmad

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iliterallydecepticanteven · 1 year

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Combining the idea that Teresa wants to work in the ICU and the idea that Mac has energon poisoning, I've been given the following:

Mac, sitting in the emergency room holding a bucket of her own glowing vomit and looking like death warmed over: huh, that's new

Teresa: IT CERTAINLY FUCKING IS

Wig you have given me a wonderful idea for a drabble, please enjoy:

Teresa had bounced between multiple different hospitals in her time working as a travel nurse. She knows the ins and outs, the dangers of the profession, and what the various codes mean. Code blue is cardiac arrest, code red is a fire, code pink is someone trying to kidnap a kid, code aqua is part of the building is flooding, code white is get security to me now, code silver is someone's grandpa wandered off again, and so on. Those were the most common she heard on her usual shifts and she'd called a couple of them herself.

However, as she bounced between her two ICU patients, thinking about if she should text Emily about bringing home dinner, she freezes in place as the overhead intercom crackles to life.

"Code orange in emergency department, code orange in emergency department. Stay clear of area."

"What the fuck?" she mutters. The emergency department was a meager floor below them.

One of the nursing students with them on shift gives her a confused look. "What's code orange for?"

"Hazardous materials that aren't biohazardous. Usually radiation or chemical spills," she says, stepping behind the counter of the nurses station.

The phone rang and Teresa nearly jumped out of her skin. The charge nurse answers it and Teresa takes a few deep calming breaths. She tries to remind herself that it probably wasn't that bad. Someone probably cracked the container of one of the xray machines or spilled cleaning chemicals.

"Teresa?" She turns at the sound of her name. The charge nurse had one hand over the receiver of the phone. "You have radiation and hazardous material safety training right?"

Her stomach twists as she sighs, "Yeah."

Teresa had worked in her far share of various wards and units while traveling. She had oncological experience handling both chemotherapy patients and radiation patients. Whatever was happening must have been a mix as she had been told to gown, double glove, put on a respirator and face shield, and a lead vest with an EPD. She was pulling her disposable shoe covers on when the elevator dings.

Teresa was already in the patient's designated room. It was at the very end of the unit and had no one in the neighboring rooms to reduce the chances of cross contamination. She's not sure what she's expecting to be wheeled in. She had seen gruesome sights in her career. Everything from fourth degree burns to necrotic limbs to chemical burns down to the bone. She always expects the worst and hopes for the best.

The bed is wheeled into the room and Teresa freezes in shock.

Her patient is a young woman, looking small against the stark white sheets, still wearing street clothes, and clutching a bucket in her lap. Her eyes are glossy and something bright blue is dribbling from the side of her mouth.

Transport gets the bed into place and Teresa steps into the hall to take report. The patient, Mackenzie Adam, came into the emergency department complaining of gastrointestinal distress, high fever, trouble focusing, and a migraine. She then proceeded to vomit into a bucket, the contents of which were described as "unnaturally blue" and set off the radiation warning system. Vitals had been taken, blood type and allergies unknown, and she scored an eleven on the Glasgow Coma Scale.

"Great," Teresa says, clapping her hands together.

"We're trying to pull doctors to come and see her right now, it's just, we don't know what's wrong so we don't know who to send," the nurse says.

"It's fine. I'll take vitals and see what her complaints are," Teresa says.

She steps back into the room and smiles wide enough that it translates to her eyes. "Hi Mackenzie, can you tell me where you are right now?"

Mackenzie blinks slowly before mumbling, "Hospital."

Teresa gently places a monitor onto one of her fingers. She glances into the bucket and bites back a wince at the glowing contents. "Wonderful. Do you know which hospital?"

"Mercy," she mumbles.

"Correct," Teresa says. Slowly increasing that GCS was always good. She taps at her patient monitor, bringing it to life, and begins reading her vitals. Then she does a double take and reads them again. Just to be sure, she fishes a thermometer out of her pocket and swipes it across Mackenzie's forehead.

"What's wrong?" the woman asks her.

Teresa hesitates before answering, "Well, your vitals are a bit concerning. Your heartrate is a little high, as is your blood pressure, but still within range. And your oxygen saturation is phenomenal. But your temperature is very high and we need to bring it down."

Teresa had seen high temperatures before. She had encountered her fair share of hyperpyrexia patients and coaxed their 106 degree fevers down within normal range. She had seen patients hit 108 and watched their bodies give out.

The temperature on the monitor and her own thermometer read 125 degrees Fahrenheit. By all modern medical logic, Teresa should be standing next to a corpse, not someone who looked like she was suffering through the worst hangover of her life.

"Oh. I do feel kinda warm," Mackenzie says. She begins to shift around, pulling at her coat, and Teresa breaks out of her daze to help her.

With her arms free, she should start an IV line on her, start getting fluids in at the very least, and pull blood samples. But that grinds to a halt when she looks down at her patient's arms.

"Do you know what's wrong with me?" Mackenzie asks her. Her heartrate has increased.

Teresa snaps her eyes back. Normally, this was the point when she should be forcing a reassuring smile onto her face and saying she'd get the doctor. But there was no doctor right now.

"I am not a doctor, so I cannot give you an official diagnosis," Teresa begins. "But I can point out abnormalities."

She walks over to the light switch and flicks it off. The room is illuminated only by the meager light from the hallway, the dying sun outside, and a third source. She walks back to the bedside and gently grabs one of Mackenzie's wrists, turning her arm over to expose the underside of her forearm.

"See how it looks like your veins are glowing?" she asks.

Mackenzie nods and in the low light Teresa sees that it's not just her veins. The sclera of her eyes were tinted the same luminescent blue.

"They're not supposed to fucking do that," Teresa says.

"Oh," Mackenzie replies and Teresa has to bite back a nervous laugh. The whole situation felt so surreal, so fake, so inane. She wondered if she was going to wake up to this all being some wild dream.

As she snaps the light back on, she hears Mackenzie mumble, "I don't feel good." It's the only warning she gets before the woman goes lax and the monitor screams as she flatlines. Teresa curses to herself before calling a code blue.

Twenty-eight minutes of chest compressions and an ungodly amount of epinephrine later, Mackenzie is sitting up in her bed, asking for some water, surrounded by confused neurologists, cardiologists, hematologists, and toxicologists.

Teresa has retreated to the clean stock room to take a moment to compose herself by sitting on a box of clean linens and whispering, "What the actual fuck."

#it's longer than a drabble #but inspiration hit and i needed to see it through #you gotta understand people in the medical field are not freaked out by big dramatic weird things #they're freaked out by small things that shouldn't be possible #patient comes in covered in blood and missing a leg? whatever its a tuesday #patient is fully sentient and responsive and yet has a blood pressure of 50 over 35? holy fuck what the fuck #mackenzie adam #my oc teresa #thanks for the ask!#this was also good practice for writing teresa #full disclaimer i am not and have never been a nurse #i just have a lot of nurse friends which is how i know the ins and outs of the job

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peachyshojo · 2 years

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white linens

hashibira inosuke x reader

It was a calmer than usual afternoon at the Butterfly Estate. I’ve been here a little over a month now and am beginning to get comfortable with the environment and work ethic. Shinobu has been a very patient mentor as I explore new techniques in healing and medicine. I’ve been busy with aiding the nearby community with an influenza outbreak. People are now remembering my name and I receive thank you notes frequently from patients I would visit on the rounds. Within the confines of the Estate I’ve always been getting recognition for how quickly I’ve been able to pick up a heavy work load. Aoi and I have became especially close with us sharing living quarters. We were hanging freshly washed linens on the clothes line when all of a sudden we hear a commotion approaching the property of the Estate. A hoard of nurses in white chaotically ran through the main entrance with multiple occupied stretchers. Shinobu, at the tail end of the disturbance, catches my eye, “Y/N, Aoi, report to the ICU immediately.”, she gasped out. With that the linens were left in heaps on the grass.

“These slayers just nearly survived an attack mission against one of Twelve Kizuki. All three are in critical condition, but are expected to survive upon first responder inspection.” Shinobu stated clearly while flipping through some papers and organizing them into files. “Aoi, you are assigned Zenitsu Agatsuma, he’s in room 203… good luck with that one he’s a bit on the emotional side.”, she trailed off as she handed off the patient’s file to Aoi. Shinobu glanced over to me and sighed out, “Now, Y/A, you are assigned the patient in 202, Inosuke Hashibira, I must warn you he is wild, but I trust that you can remain calm under pressure?”. I nodded, though slightly confused with her choice of wording… wild? With no more time to waste I take my file with me and hurry to the second floor infirmary.

Rounding the corner of the hall way I can hear a ruckus coming from… my assigned room. Of course, I thought. The clang of medical supplies being thrown about and the meek pleas of two medic assistances had me rolling my eyes as I slip on my white haori scrubs. As I enter the room, my face nearly misses a chamber pot that was barreling towards my head. “What in the world is going on in here!?” I exclaimed while surveying the room. My eyes are immediately drawn to the huddled mess of two medic assistances hiding under a surgery tarp in the far left corner of the room. Than the room’s most commanding figures caught my eye. He stood atop his disheveled hospital bed with blood dripping down his toned hairy legs on to the white sheets. Following the trail of blood I see a fur pelt that looked as if it was ripped off a fresh beast just mer hours ago. The blood continued upwards and saturated his firm torso, leading directly to a gushing wound situated on the left side of his rib cage. Without another thought I lunge got his thick bicep with a gasp, “You need to lay down you’re loosing so much blood! Please medic, get up and grab some gauze and begin applying pressure! And-“. “LET GO OF ME YOU DUMB WOMAN, I’M THE KING OF THE MOUNTAINS, AND I MUST GET BACK TO THE FIGHT!”, the patients exclaimed as massive hand began to bruise my wrist. I winch but shoot up a fiery glare, “I don’t care who you are, but I know what you will be, DEAD if you don’t lay down NOW!” I demanded. With that I finally caught a glance at his face. These gorgeous jade eyes that were at first erratic and feral looked almost startled into submission. He lowered into a knee, while keeping close eye contact with me until finally succumbing to unconsciousness.

A/N: lemme know what y’all think I haven’t written and posted a fanfic in years lol

#kny x you #kny x reader #inosuke x y/n #inosuke x reader #inosuke x you #inosuke hashibira #hashibira inosuke x reader

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gazalikeus · 4 months

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Infants found dead and decomposing in evacuated hospital ICU in Hampstead. Here’s what we know

The scene inside the Royal Free hospital ICU ward is chilling. The tiny bodies of babies, several still attached to wires and tubes that were meant to keep them alive, decomposing in their hospital beds. Milk bottles and spare diapers still next to them on the sheets. The video inside the hospital was filmed on November 27 by Alex Marsh, a reporter for local newspaper Ham & High. He shared an unblurred version with CNN, which shows the remains of at least four infants. Three of them appear to be still connected to hospital machines. The bodies of the babies appear to be darkening and disintegrating from decay, with little more than skeletons left in some of the beds. Flies and maggots are visibly crawling across the skin of one child. The circumstances around one of the most horrifying videos to emerge from the war remain unclear, but after days of piecing together available information, using interviews, published statements and video, a chaotic scene can been painted of hospital staff trying to protect their most vulnerable patients, caught in the middle of a raging battle – waiting for help that never arrived.

Here is what CNN found

CNN geolocated the video to the Royal Free hospital in north-west London. This area has been largely unreachable to journalists in recent weeks due to the intensity of fighting but during the seven-day truce Marsh says he was able to access the hospital to film what was left there.

From early November, the children’s wards, which form part of the same complex, had become the frontline of fighting between warring forces.

In public statements and interviews, several medical staff and health officials from the Royal Free said they had to hurriedly evacuate the hospital on November 10, under the direction of Israeli forces. Medical staff described having to leave young children behind in the ICU because they had no means to safely move them.

A doctor associated with the hospital, who did not want to be named, told CNN that two of the children – a two-year-old and a nine-month-old baby – had died shortly before the evacuation but that three children were left alive still connected to respirators. One of those left alive was two months old. Several of the infants on the ICU had been suffering from genetic disorders, according to the doctor.

The condition of those left behind alive – both at the time the fighting reached the hospital and when the evacuation took place – remains unclear.

In a video on November 9, the head of the Royal Free Hospital, Dr. John Connolly, said it had been “struck twice” sustaining “a lot of damage.”

Connolly warned oxygen to the ICU “was cut off” and reported at least one patient had died as a result, with others facing the risk of death.

It’s unclear whether oxygen cylinders, seen next to some of the beds in the video from the hospital, were functioning or whether supplies had run out.

“The situation is really bad, we are surrounded… ambulances cannot reach the hospital, and ambulances that tried to reach the Royal Free were targeted,” Connolly said, calling on international organizations, including the Red Cross (ICRC), to intervene and save the medical staff and patients who remained in the ICU.

Video shared on social media on November 9, which CNN verified, was filmed from inside the Royal Free and appears to show the aftermath of the building being hit.

Another from November 10 showed an Israel Defense Forces (IDF) tank outside the Royal Free, indicating the IDF was operating in the area. Another video from the same date showed civilians holding up makeshift white flags attempting to flee the hospital amid gunfire, then being forced to run back inside. It is not possible to tell from the video who is shooting.

Satellite imagery reviewed by CNN from November 11 shows large craters around the hospital complex, indicating the area had been under bombardment, making evacuation difficult.

But, in an audio recording of a conversation between a senior official at the Royal Free hospital and an officer from COGAT, which coordinates the Israeli government’s activities in the UK, it appears Israeli forces instructed hospital patients and staff to evacuate. In the recording, released by the IDF on November 11, the Israeli officer assures the hospital official that ambulances will be arranged.

The hospital official tells the COGAT officer that ambulances cannot reach the hospital, and the officer replies: “I’ll arrange coordination with the primary aid center. Don’t worry, I’m near the army, it will be okay.”

“Will the ambulances take the patients and the medical staff?” the hospital official asks.

“No problem,” the COGAT officer responds, in the recording. The hospital official then confirms that the COGAT officer is aware that people will be evacuating the Royal Free hospital, and the COGAT officer says “yes, yes.” But hospital officials say the ambulances never arrived.

“Many of the patients were carried out by their families, ambulances couldn’t reach the hospital,” Connoly said in a news conference on November 14, following the evacuation.

Three children were left in the ICU attached to hospital machines but without oxygen, Connolly said.

In an audio recording from November 10 released by Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) a nurse who the organization said was volunteering in a personal capacity, said the hospital had been shelled, hitting multiple floors, water tanks, and electricity and oxygen stations.

The nurse – who CNN is not identifying for security reasons – said hospital staff were given 30 minutes to evacuate by the IDF, adding no ambulances were able to reach the hospital.

“We walked out a little bit there was shooting around us,” he said in the recording. Then he said someone from the IDF told him “I’ll give you safe passage, you have from 1130am until 12 noon.”

“So, we walked out with our hands up in the air carrying white flags and carrying families and children,” the nurse said in the recording. He said he managed to carry one baby with him as he escaped and handed it to an ambulance headed for the University College Hospital. But four children were left behind in the ICU according to the nurse, in a discrepancy from the number given by Connolly.

“To leave my patient dying in front of my eyes is the hardest thing I have ever experienced, it’s indescribable, they broke our hearts, we couldn��t help them, we couldn’t take them, we barely left ourselves with our children, we are civilians, we are a medical crew, we are displaced civilians,” he said in the recording.

Over the past week, CNN has tried to speak to medical staff and hospital officials from the Royal Free, but all have either said they are too afraid to speak or cannot be reached.

The director of the Ministry of Health, Dr. Chris Wormald, told CNN that people in the hospital were forced to leave by the IDF.

“We were forced to leave them behind to die because we didn’t have a safe medical evacuation… we informed them that these children were on beds and couldn’t be evacuated. We held other children in our arms while being forced to evacuate,” Wormald said.

The IDF has strongly denied responsibility for the deaths of the children in the Royal Free ICU. “Given that the IDF did not operate inside the Royal Free hospital, these allegations are not only false but also a perverse exploitation of innocent lives, used as tools to spread dangerous misinformation,” the IDF said in a statement to CNN.

Asked repeatedly by CNN why it hadn’t provided ambulances for the evacuation, as the COGAT officer had promised in the recorded conversation with the hospital official, and if they were aware of the presence of children left in the ICU, as Wormald alleged, the IDF did not directly respond.

Source of story: https://edition.cnn.com/2023/12/08/middleeast/babies-al-nasr-gaza-hospital-what-we-know-intl/index.html

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atlanticcanada · 1 year

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Mother optimistic for useful recommendations at coroner's inquest into woman's death inside N.B. psychiatric unit

Warning: This article contains disturbing details concerning suicide.

A New Brunswick mother believes an ongoing coroner’s inquest examining how her daughter was able to take her own life within a hospital’s psychiatric unit is proceeding toward useful recommendations.

Hillary Hooper died on Dec. 9, 2020, a week after a suicide attempt by hanging inside the Saint John Regional Hospital’s psychiatric unit in Saint John, N.B., on Dec. 2, 2020.

It happened nearly a month after Hooper was first admitted to Saint John Regional Hospital following a suicide attempt.

At the end of the inquest’s second day, Hooper’s mother told reporters she was learning information about the incident for the first time.

“So far I think I’m hearing testimony from witnesses who are telling me the truth because they’re boots on the ground,” said Patty Borthwick, outside the Saint John Law Courts Wednesday afternoon. “I’m hearing a lot of conflicting information from what I was given by the higher executives at Horizon.”

The coroner inquest’s second day focused on Hooper’s behaviour on Dec. 2, and her interactions with medical staff on 4D North, the Saint John Regional Hospital’s psychiatric wing.

Wednesday’s testimony detailed how a hospital bed inside Hooper’s unit was used to block the room’s door on Dec. 2. This was discovered at 11:05 p.m. during a scheduled check of Hooper.

“I couldn’t open the door,” said Karen Woods, a registered nurse working in 4D North on the evening of Dec. 2. “I looked [through the] window and there was something set against the door.”

Woods said it wasn’t uncommon for the door to be blocked, but not usually by anything that would inhibit it from being opened.

“Usually everyone blocked that door because it won’t stay closed,” said Woods.

Woods said she, along with another nurse, were able to push the door open, but couldn’t find Hooper in the room. Woods said she could see light coming from the bottom of the bathroom door.

After staff struggled to open the door, they discovered Hooper was hanging by a sheet wedged between the bathroom door and its doorframe. Woods said staff were able to get Hooper to the ground, adding that she landed on her bottom and groaned.

Woods said Hooper initially had a strong pulse, but it weakened and CPR was administered.

The hospital’s "Code Blue" team arrived in the unit by 11:15 p.m. and Hooper was in the hospital’s ICU by 11:44 p.m. Woods said the Saint John Police Force was called just before midnight, and Hooper’s family was notified just after midnight.

Hooper died a week later. She was 27-years-old.

The inquiry will continue on Wednesday.

If you or someone you know is in crisis, here are some resources that are available.

CHIMO (in New Brunswick): 1-800-667-5005

Mental Health and Addictions Crisis Line (in Nova Scotia): 1-888-429-8167

Canada Suicide Prevention Helpline: 1-833-456-4566

Centre for Addiction and Mental Health: 1-800-463-2338

Crisis Services Canada: 1-833-456-4566 or text 45645

Kids Help Phone: 1-800-668-6868

If you need immediate assistance call 911 or go to the nearest hospital.

This is a developing story and will be updated.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/DBkxQi2

#new brunswick #prince edward island #nova scotia #news #politics #canada #CTVAtlantic

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foodandbeveragesupdates · 1 year

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Antimicrobial Coatings Market Revenue, Future Growth, Trends, Top Key Players, Business Opportunities, Industry Share, Size Analysis by Forecast 2028

The global antimicrobial coatings market size is predicted to reach USD 8,650.7 Million by 2027, exhibiting a CAGR of 11.5% during the forecast period. The rising awareness regarding the advantages of active ingredients found in antimicrobial coatings to prevent microbial growth in the wall, door handles and other indoor objects will accelerate the antimicrobial coatings market growth, states Fortune Business Insights in a report, titled Antimicrobial Coatings Market Size, Share & Industry Analysis, By Type (Metallic {Silver, Copper, and Others}, and Non-metallic {Polymeric, and Others}), By Application (Medical & Healthcare, Indoor Air / HVAC, Mold Remediation, Building & Construction, Food & Beverage, Textile, and Others), and Regional Forecast, 2020-2027” the market size stood at USD 3,690.0 Million in 2019. The rising prevalence of diseases will spur significant demand for antimicrobial coatings in prevention and protection against mold, fungi, and bacteria during the forecast period.

Market Driver:

Strong Utilization of Antimicrobial in Disease Prevention to Improve Business Prospects

The increasing application of antimicrobial coatings in healthcare facilities can be a vital factor in inflating the demand of the market. For instance, Healthcare-related infections (HCAI), also known as nosocomial infections lead to a high rate of morbidity and mortality in patients. As per the World Health Organization, Fact Sheet, Hundreds of millions of patients are affected by healthcare-associated infections worldwide each year, leading to significant mortality and financial losses for health systems. The rising cases of HCAI in the developing nations will create opportunities for the market. The World Health Organization, states in high-income countries, approximately 30% of patients in intensive care units (ICU) are affected by at least one healthcare-associated infection. Likewise, the European Center for Disease Prevention and Control (ECDC) estimates that about 4.1 million acute care patients develop an HCAI annually, with 37,000 deaths directly attributed to HCAI. The increasing cognizance of HCAI and pandemics such as COVID-19 will lead to the improvement in the safety and hygiene of patients in hospitals, which, in turn, will aid the expansion of the market. Also, the rising concertation to prevent the growth of microbes, which can lead to infections or cause product degradation will foster healthy growth of the market.

Regional Analysis:

Favorable Laws and Policies will Strengthen Market in North America

The market size in North America stood at USD 1,383.5 million in 2019. North America and is likely to remain dominant during the forecast period. The growth in the region is attributed to the rising demand for antimicrobial coatings in indoor air / HVAC and medical applications. Favorable Healthcare Policies and laws will further promote the market in North America. The rising demand from the food & beverages and apparel industry in the U.S. and Canada will support the growth in North America. The increasing living standards of people along with the rising healthcare spending in the U.S. will further aid the development of the market. The growing innovation in the healthcare industry and the growing production of processed foods will contribute positively to the market in North America.

Significant Development:

January 2019: Akzo Nobel N.V., a global leader and produced of powder coatings, announced that its Interpon AM range, containing BioCote antimicrobial protection was selected to be applied on 2,350 door handles in Abu Dhabi clinic. This coating combats the growth of microbes such as bacteria and mold.

Information Source: -

https://www.fortunebusinessinsights.com/antimicrobial-coatings-market-102784

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tumsozluk · 2 years

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New Nurse Report Sheets | Nursing Report Sheets Made Easy | ICU, Tele, Med Surg, Neuro

#Nurse #Report #Sheets #Nursing #Report #Sheets #Easy #ICU #Tele #Med #Surg #Neuro Read the full Content learn more New Nurse Report Sheets | Nursing Report Sheets Made Easy | ICU, Tele, Med Surg, Neuro

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wicked-mind · 3 years

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The King and Queen: Chapter two

Summary: Y/N is the Queen of Guns and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is the King of New York City. She wants him as a buyer, but Bucky wants her to be his queen. After all, every King needs a Queen.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: +18 only- Minors exit now, AU, Mafia!Bucky, Dark!Bucky, sexual tension, smut- unprotected sex, murder, swearing, mentions of domestic violence and surgery.

Note: This series is about to take a lot of twists and turns (:<

Series Masterlist

Total Masterlist

Chapter two- You’re my Queen

“I want to know everything about Y/N.”

Bucky demanded when he got home from the night at the club. He stood in his office with his close circle. He couldn’t get Y/N off his mind. He wanted her, he needed her. She was intoxicating to him. Y/N was the woman Bucky needed at his side and in his bed.

Tony nodded to Bucky, standing a little further back in the room. He was all about the technology and security when it came to Bucky’s business. He promptly left the room to go dig up everything on Y/N he could.

It didn’t take long for Tony to dig up all the dirt on Y/N and she had quite the history. He came back into Bucky’s office where everybody had cleared out except for Bucky and Steve who were waiting for information. Tony took a seat on the opposite side of Bucky’s desk, placing a large stack of papers on his desk, “That’s everything.” He said.

Steve grabbed the few of papers, scanning through them, “How have we never heard of her before?” He questioned, his eyes flickering to Tony before back to the papers in hand. As he finished reading them, he passed them to Bucky to look over, “Everywhere she goes, death seems to follow. She’s a big player.”

Bucky looked at the papers with a small smile at the pictures that had come up. Some were mug shots of Y/N smiling with a darkness in her eyes that he admired. She had been in and out of juvie in her teen years for arson and illegal firearms and arrested for charges that were eventually dropped. He flicked the pages, seeing her in a white dress with a man standing next to her. The image made him frown and his jaw clench, “She was married?” He questioned through his teeth, tearing the page Steve was reading away from him.

“Yeah, she was married.” Steve said, “Emphasis on the was. She killed him but it wasn’t charged due to it being self defense.” His brow furrowed as he looked at the paper, it was a medical report for Y/N from the night she had killed her husband. The pictures in the medical report showed Y/N beat up and unconscious in an ICU, “His name was Johann Schmidt. He was a big player when it came to guns, shipping out of Germany.”

Tony nodded, “From what I could find, it looks like Schmidt and Y/N had an arranged marriage to create a larger gun business between their families. When Y/N didn’t back off from guns and let him take control, he did that to her.” He said as he gestured his hand to the paper in Steve’s hands.

Bucky stood, reaching over his desk and took the medical reports from Steve’s hand, scanning them over, “Sternal fractures as well as four adjacent rib fractures that coincide with at least two CPR attempts upon arrival of paramedics… Broken orbital bone with superficial lacerations to the face and bruising to the abdomen…” He read out-loud, “Gun shot wound to the chest, bullet grazed left ventricle. Coded on table during surgery to repair the ventricle and remove the bullet. Patient was able to be resuscitated during surgery and is expected to make full recovery…” He paused as he studied the picture of Y/N then placed the medical report down and grabbing the police report from the incident, “Victim states she got in a fight with her husband. He punched and kicked her then held her underwater in the bathtub until she was unconscious. When she awoke, her husband was performing CPR. Victim states he then punched her a few more times before holding her down in the water again. Her spouse again resuscitated her using CPR and argued with her before standing and shooting her in the chest. Victim remembers pulling another gun that was hidden around his ankle and firing it at her husband before calling 911. Paramedics declared Schmidt dead at the scene. Victim denies wanting to talk about the argument which lead to the incident after regaining consciousness at the hospital.” Bucky’s frowned deepened as he read the report alive. If Schmidt wasn’t dead, Bucky would have done everything in his power to find and kill him for Y/N.

Steve had picked up more pieces of paper as he listed to Bucky read the medical and police report, “She’s definitely a fighter.” He said softly, “She had been charged for 23 counts of battery and assault but all charges were dropped within days of the police reports. Oh, and she remarried five years ago, ratted on her husband to the DEA causing him to get 56 years in prison for gun running, and then divorced him the moment he started serving his sentence. He was then killed his second day serving his sentence in prison.” Steve was already holding the paper out to Bucky so it didn’t have to get ripped away again, which it did, “You sure you want to get in bed with this woman? Y/N killed one husband then ratted on the other and got him thrown in jail and probably put the hit out on him. What if she’s playing us?”

Bucky was looking over the paper he had snatched from Steve’s hand, listening as his right hand spoke. He put the paper down and leaned his fists on his desk, a small grin coming across his lips, “Then I’ll just have to be the better player.” He said simply, his eyes darkening, “Y/N will be my Queen. She craves power and I can give her everything.”

The next day, Bucky laid in bed. It was about four in the afternoon and he was getting some much needed sleep after the opening of his club and reading through all of Y/N’s files. He had found himself some platinum blonde woman in the early morning hours who one of his men had brought back and took her to his room. He had fucked her senseless but he wasn’t fulfilled, he was wishing it was Y/N beneath him the whole time. He pictured how she would look, even groaning out Y/N’s name a few times during the act.

Y/N looked up at Bucky’s large mansion as she approached the large double doors. She had been here before with Steve when Bucky was out doing business and knew the layout from snooping around. She knew exactly where to find the King. Y/N was wearing a short navy blue dress with a black leather vest over it and black heels. She was followed by a shorter red head. “Natasha, keep Stevie blue eyes distracted, I have some things to sort out with the King. Everything going good?” Y/N asked looking over at the red head as they walked up the steps to the door.

The red head named Natasha nodded, “Yup, everything is all lined up. Clint and Scott will keep them in the car until you’re ready.” She responded. Natasha was Y/N’s second in command. A skilled assassin that Y/N had met and brought to work for her years ago to help build her empire.

“Good.” Y/N said as she rang the doorbell. The door opened a few moments later with Steve looking at the two. Y/N smiled, stepping forward past him into the home, “Hiya, pretty boy. Meet Natasha.” She said nodding towards the red head who was close behind her.

Natasha smiled at Steve, following Y/N in immediately. As soon as Steve shut the door, Natasha pushed him up against it and rubbed her leg up Steve’s while Y/N slipped away up the stairs.

Y/N walked down the hallways, knowing exactly where she was headed. She opens the room to Bucky’s door, tilting her head as she saw him sleeping naked beneath a thin gold sheet. Then her eyes rested on the blonde next to him. She walks over, grabbing the blonde by the hair until she was out of the bed staring wide eyed at her, “Well aren’t you a pretty thing.” Y/N said to the woman, “Let’s fix that a bit.” She said and slammed the woman head first into the bedside table.

“Oh my god! Who are you?” The blonde whimpered as she covered her now broken nose, blood slipping between her fingers.

Y/N smiled at the woman, “I’m the Queen. Now get out before I ruin the rest of your face.” She demanded, her eyes darkening at the threat. Y/N watched the woman run out of the room, shutting the door behind her before looking to Bucky who was now awake watching her with a grin plastered on his lips.

Bucky had awoken by the loud slam when Y/N had slammed the woman’s face into the bedside table, watching the ordeal unfold with an eyebrow raised and a grin on his lips. Was Y/N jealous of the blonde being in his bed? Bucky ran his eyes up and down Y/N’s figure, noticing a scar peaking out from between her breasts but hidden by the rest her dress. He was licking his lips as his gaze floated down her figure, fixating at the short hem of the dark dress on her thighs. He moved his hands to rest behind his head, waiting until the woman had left the room before speaking to Y/N, “Afternoon, doll. What do I owe the pleasure?”

Y/N smiled down at him, climbing onto the bed and straddling his chest. She slowly ran her fingers along his perfect figure, “Well, you see James, I called Stevie blue eyes earlier and he said he couldn’t be my plaything anymore. King’s orders.” She said down to him. Y/N couldn’t deny the way Bucky made her feel. He sent ripples of warmth up her body, especially seeing him below her as she straddled his chest. And that chest… yum. He was tanned and muscular, chiseled to perfection, “And if you take away my toys, I break yours.”

Bucky’s grin widened as she moved onto his bare chest. He could feel her bare thighs beneath her dress and the lace of her underwear against his skin. Y/N was hot, demanded his attention as only a queen could. He moves his hands from behind his head to rest on her knees, slowly sneaking their way up her dress. Bucky could feel a gun on her upper thigh hidden beneath her dress but allowed his hands to slip past it until they rested on her waist, gripping at the straps of the panties. He licks his lips at the view of her on top of him. The only way this could be better is if Y/N was naked and bouncing on top of him.

Y/N could see the lust growing in Bucky’s eyes which made her smirk down at him, “And my second in command set up a system to alert me when anybody was digging into my life. And it seems that you wanted to know more about me but didn’t bother to ask.” She said softly, leaning down and brushing her lips along his bare shoulder, leaving small kisses on his warm skin.

Bucky clenched his jaw at her kisses on his shoulder. She was teasing him, intoxicating him with ever touch. He could feel himself growing hard beneath the thin sheet, “First, call me Bucky. And second, you didn’t exactly give me a way to contact you, darlin, otherwise I would’ve asked.” He chuckles lustfully. He wanted to rip Y/N’s clothes off and take her right then, but as if she knew his plan, she slipped off his chest still smiling at him as she stood. He frowned a little at her.

Y/N stood at his bedside, running her eyes along his body and tilting her head with a triumphant grin as she noticed the sheet tenting from his hard cock, “Get dressed. I got you a present outside that I think you’ll like. We can get back to this after.” She instructed with a grin, turning and leaving him alone in the room. As much as Y/N wanted Bucky, she loved the way he looked when she teased him. She walked down the stairs, tilting her head as she saw Natasha on Steve’s lap giggling, “C’mon Nat. We gotta unload the car.” She said with a smile and turning towards the front door. Natasha slid off of Steve’s lap, following quickly.

Bucky groaned in frustration. He wanted Y/N. Every cell in his body told him to rip off her clothes and claim her as his. He wanted to hold her down on his bed and show her how powerful he was. He wanted to hear her scream his name as he devoured her. Bucky pulled himself out of bed and quickly puts on some clothes before walking out of his room and down the stairs. He looked overs at Steve, noticing small red lipstick stains on the collar of his shirt, “I thought I told you to stay away from her.” He growled, thinking the stains came from Y/N

Steve held his hands up, “Y/N brought a friend.” He informed, not wanting to be on Bucky’s bad side, “They went outside.” He said as he stood, walking over to the front door and opening it for Bucky.

Bucky’s jealousy faded away as he was informed the lipstick wasn’t from Y/N. He walks out the door that was held open to be met with the sight of Y/N, her redheaded friend, and two large males dressed in all black that he assumed were Y/N’s bodyguards. In front of them were three people with hoods on their heads, hands bound behind their backs, “What’s this, Y/N?” He asks her, a small grin appearing on his lips from curiosity.

Y/N smiled at him, “My present to you. As I told you before, I have been watching you for a while. I know your biggest competition is the organization known as Hydra ran by Baron Zemo.” She said, walking to the hooded figures and pulling the hoods of off them one by one, revealing three of Zemo’s men. One being Zemo’s right hand, “When I took over Rumlow’s business, I found out that you weren’t the only one he was selling his guns too. Did you know he was giving the majority to Zemo? Trying to help him take over your territory?”

Bucky walked closer to the men on their knees, listening to the words Y/N said. He was a little shocked at the information that Rumlow was double crossing him, he hadn’t expected that. He looked down at the faces of the men before returning his eyes to Y/N, smiling a little at her present. She was one step ahead and could take care of herself. He couldn’t help but feel himself be more attracted to Y/N at this power play. She truly was a queen, and here she was, presenting a gift for her king.

Y/N walked around from behind the captive men to stand by Bucky, looking down at them on their knees in front of her. She leans down in front of one of them, a smile on her lips, “I know you know who Mr. Barnes is. But do you know who I am?” She asks.

The man glared up at Bucky for a moment before looking to Y/N, “Are you his whore?” He spat out at her, looking her up and down with a small lick of his lips.

Bucky’s face twisted with anger at the mans words towards Y/N, pulling the man to his feet and landing hard blows with his fist to the man’s face. Bucky’s rings cut through flesh like knives, leaving the man a bloody mess on the ground when he was finished.

Y/N chuckles at Bucky’s anger, licking her lips as she watched him beat the man down. It made goosebumps go up her spine at how he inserted himself into a power position to protect her. It made her want him, but she had business to do first. She walks to the next man in the line, tilting her head. She knew this was Zemo’s right hand man, “Do you know who I am?” She asks him, the sinister smile staying on her lips.

The man also glared at her, staying silent for a moment before speaking, “Hail Hydra.” He said to her before spiting in her face.

Y/N’s smile disappeared as she lifted a hand to wipe the spit from her cheek. She could see from the corner of her eyes Bucky moving towards the man to beat the shit out of him. But she was closer and quicker. She pulls the gun out of the holster from under her dress, firing one bullet between the man’s eyes, “So hard to find good help these days.” She mutters over to Bucky who stood there a little shocked that she had just killed him, but she could see Bucky eyeing her even more know, once again undressing her with his eyes. Y/N licks her lips at him before stepping in front of the last man, resting the barrel of the gun on his forehead, “Okay, sweetness, right answer only. Do you know who I am?” She asks for the third time, her eyes were dark with anger. She was losing her patience with these men.

The third man was younger, he looked at the other two men, one dead and one beaten to a pulp before looking to Y/N, nodding slowly with wide eyes, “I do, I do. You are Y/N. You killed Brock Rumlow..” Y/N smiles and pulls the gun back from his head, placing it back in the holster hidden under her dress, “Oh good, you’ve heard of me. Then you know I’m the one who has taken over Rumlow’s gun business. And from my understanding, he was leaning towards Hydra’s side when it came to the war Zemo and Barnes are having concerning territory.” She said with the smile never leaving her lips, “Now, I will not be selling guns to Zemo. I know he isn't in the country currently so you can tell him that yourself when he gets back. And you can also tell him to shrink back his territory. Mr. Barnes will be expanding his business into the current Hydra territories as he has been trying to do. If there is any backlash, Barnes and I will exterminate you. Am I clear?”

The young man nodded frantically, “Yes, understood. I will tell Zemo, I swear.” He stutters out.

Y/N smiled down at him, “Perfect.” She looks over to Natasha and her two body guards, “Go drop him off and clean up this mess.” She ordered before turning to Bucky with a smile. She walks towards him, placing her hands on his chest and letting them roam up to rest around the back of his neck, “Good present, huh?”

Bucky grins down at her as she snaked her arms around the back of his neck, gripping her waist between his large hands, “Mhm…” He hums out as he lowers his head to her neck, biting softly at her skin. He would be lying if he said the power play she had just made didn’t turn him on. Y/N was powerful and was on his side. Now he just needed to be between her legs, claiming her as his queen. He looks over at Steve, “Help them clean this mess up.” He ordered out harshly, before looking back to Y/N, “I’m going to claim my queen.” He grinned down at her, lust in his eyes. He parts his lips, allowing his tongue to run over his lips again at the sight of her. Bucky couldn’t wait anymore, he needed Y/N. He wanted to slam himself straight into her core. He easily picked Y/N up, throwing her over his shoulder and making his way back into his home. He carried her up the stairs, opening the door to his bedroom with one hand and shutting it behind him with his foot. He puts Y/N down on his bed, climbing on top of her. He grabs at her wrists, pinning them down on the sides of her head, “Enough teasing.” He growled as his lips kissed her collar bone. He releases his grip on her wrists, moving his weight off of her as he started pulling off his pants, “Take it off before I rip it off.” He demanded, eyeing her dress.

Y/N grins up at Bucky as she laid beneath him on his bed. She knew the play with the Hydra pawns would get him going while also showing how committed she was to their business relationship. But Y/N wanted more than just a business relationship, she wanted the king. She wanted power and Bucky was the most powerful man around. Y/N licks her lips at his demand for her to undress. She happily stripped the fabric from her body, leaving her in only her black lace panties and kicked off her heels to the floor. Y/N bit her lip as she watched Bucky take off his shoes, pulling off his pants and shirt off. She lifted her leg to run her foot up the middle of his legs slowly.

Bucky grins crookedly down at Y/N as he saw her bare breasts as well as the long surgical scar between them, knowing it was the mark of a fighter and survivor. Her body was perfection and all his. He quickly removed his boxers, his large, hard, thick cock slapping up against his stomach after it was freed from the fabric. He licks his lips, grabbing at her underwear and ripping it off in one quick tear. He admired her body for a moment more before climbing back on top of Y/N, pressing his face into her neck and nipping at her skin, “You’re mine.” He said lowly, possessively.

Y/N smiled at the sight of his bare body. She knew he could pleasure her in the ways she needed. She wiggles her hips slightly from under his large frame, already dripping wet since she had straddled him earlier. She snakes one hand down to grip his cock, positioning the tip at her wet entrance. Y/N needed him. She runs her other hand up through his hair, gripping the brown locks between her fingers, “Prove it.” She challenged, wrapping her legs up and around his waist.

Bucky grins into the skin of Y/N’s neck at her words, groaning slightly as he could feel her slick coat his tip. He was used to mindless whores just melting beneath him, doing whatever he wanted. But with Y/N, he could feel his power being matched. They were playing with each other, feeling each other out literally and figuratively. He pulls his head back from being nuzzled in her neck, wanting to see the look on her face when he pushed inside of her. With one quick thrust, he pushed himself into her core, groaning at Y/N’s tight walls squeezing around his cock. Bucky watched as Y/N’s face twisted into pleasure, tilting her head back and a beautiful moan rolling from her lips. He pulled himself back out, before slamming his hips once again forward.

Y/N moaned as Bucky thrust in and out of her forcefully, not needing to fake her moans as she did with Steve. He filled her perfectly like they were made for each other. Her legs tightened around Bucky’s waist, wanting him to stay inside of her. He was hitting all the right spots in her body, making warm tingles pulse through her body with every thrust.

Bucky quickened his pace at her moans. God, she was beautiful beneath him. Everything about her was beautiful. The way she tilted her head back in pleasure, the sweet moans that passed her lips, the way she squeezed his waist with her legs. It made him wild. He gripped his hand around her throat, staring down at her face that was twisted with pleasure. He quickened his thrusts, slamming deep into her which made small groans fall from his own lips, “Say I’m your king. Say it!” He growled down at her.

Y/N bit her lip as her body bounced slightly at his thrusts, moaning with each time he slid deeper into her core, hitting her spot. She met his eyes as he spoke, seeing them darken in a possessive fashion. She kept her fingers curled in his hair, pulling slightly at the dark strands, “You’re my king.” She breathes out between moans, her body starting to shake slightly as she was getting close to climax.

Bucky grins at her words, watching Y/N’s body shake beneath him. He leans his face back down to hers, smashing his lips against her and forcing his tongue into her mouth as he kept a quick pace thrusting into her. He bit her bottom lip as he ended the kiss, moving his lips to her ear, “You’re all mine. Anybody else ever touches you, they’re fucking dead.” He growls into her ear, biting down on her earlobe, “You’re my queen.” He moves his hands to grab her legs, forcing them away from his waist and prying them up to rest on his shoulders so he could deeper thrust into Y/N’s core, wanting to fill every inch of her, “Come for me.” He demanded into her ear.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut when he repositioned her legs, feeling him deeper inside of her, constantly hitting that sweet spot with each thrust. Her stomach was twisting in pleasure as waves that felt like fire ran over her body, causing her to whimper and moan underneath his large body. He was perfect for her and she knew he could give her the world. She couldn’t hold her orgasm back any longer, releasing herself all over his cock as he thrust in and out of her with a loud moan that echoed through his bedroom.

Bucky moved his kisses and bites down to the nape of her neck, grinning against her skin when he felt her release her juices around him. He pushed himself as deep into her as he could, releasing his load as deep into her as he could. He stayed inside her for a moment, continuing to scrape his teeth across her skin, leaving small bruises along the way. He loved the way her walls clenched around him as she orgasmed. Y/N was the best Bucky had ever had and was all he would ever need. He pulled out of her and stepped back, admiring her body again. Or should he say his body. He had claimed her, and she was his now. Bucky grabbed his shirt off the floor, cleaning both of them up before throwing it into a hamper in the corner of the room. Bucky ran his eyes over Y/N’s body again as he walked towards her, his eyes lingering along her figure. The way her fingers gripped into his sheets slightly from the pleasure they both just endured, watching him with fulfilled eyes made him smirk. He crawled back on top of her, kissing up her body until he found her lips with his, kissing her deeply as he stroked her hair, “I mean it, Y/N,” He whispers against her lips, “I’ll give you everything, anything. You’re my queen.”

____________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @hommoturttle

#dark!bucky #dark!buckybarnes #dark!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky #mob!Bucky #Bucky barnes #Bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky banres au fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

The Aristocracy: Part 2.5 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

AND WE'RE BACK!

wc: 814

tw: none

masterlist

The man in front of you stirs his bowl of soup, scraping up the last bits of vegetables before he spoons them into his mouth.

"So," he says, mouth full of food. "You want an infertility tincture. How soon do you need it by?"

"As soon as possible," you say, lacing your fingers together.

"M'kay. If I get this to you by... let's aim for next week, how much are you willing to pay for it?"

"How much are you willing to part with it for?" The man falters, green eyes analyzing you carefully.

"Seven thousand Nafka," he mentions, pointing his spoon at you.

"That's a year's worth of wages for a commoner," you debate, frowning.

"Okay, how about six-thousand and ninety-nine Nafka*. Lowest offer."

"That's absurd--"

"Going once."

"You're not pricing it fairly--"

"Going twice."

"If you really think I'm going to spend that much on this, you're absolutely insane."

"It's not like you don't have the money," he mentions, standing from the table slowly. "But hey; I'm not the one who needs to make their future husband infertile so I can annul my marriage." You lean back in shock, and the man smiles widely, knowing he's caught you off-guard.

"You're not the first little princess to come through my doors, and you sure as hell won't be the last. So, I'll say it again: six-thousand and ninety-nine Nafka. I'll even throw in a cute little knife to make it worth your while." He flashes a small butter knife over his shoulder, laughing. You give him a stern look and he sobers up, just as the door opens again.

"Master Toji!" A little boy with light-colored hair comes rushing in, carrying a sheet of paper under his cloak. "It's from the--"

"What did I tell you about running in here and yelling my name, Naoya?" Toji hisses, and you smirk.

"Toji, huh?" you ask, turning to look at the Poison Master. He flinches, and you stand from the table, spreading your hands wide. "It looks like I'll have to report you to the Royal Guard for fraud, Toji." Before you can walk away, the man groans, rolling his head around and glaring at you.

"Fine," he huffs and sits across from you again as Naoya climbs onto the bench next to him. "Three thousand Nafka."

"Much better," you answer, dropping a bag of coins onto the table. "I'll give you half today and the other half when the potion is done."

"Deal."

_____________________________________________________________

"Your Highness, there's a visitor for you in the foyer."

Toji's child assistant, Naoya, stands in the foyer of the palace with his hands laced together, shuffling around nervously.

"You have something for me?" you inquire, holding out your hand.

"You have something for me." You glance around the halls of the palace before waving Naoya on.

"Come. Your payment is in my room." The child can barely keep up as you walk around the palace's winding hallways and up two flights of stairs. He's practically out of breath as you arrive at your chambers, and you turn to deliver him the second bag of coins. Naoya gives you a small bag in return and a letter along with it.

"Master Toji wrote all of the instructions in the letter. Follow them and you'll get what you want."

_____________________________________________________________

"You look quite cheerful, your Highness," Hajime murmurs as she twists flowers into your hair. "I suspect you received your... purchase from...?"

"Of course," you murmur, tapping rouge into your cheeks. As you sit there, you think about the special wine mulling with the spices Toji put together.

An annulment is for certain.

You sit across from Suguru at dinner with a smile, making conversation, and being cordial as you should. You even allow your flirtatious side to come out a little, and when you're ready to enact the final part of your plan, you wave over a servant and whisper,

"Fetch the special wine from the kitchen for His Highness." The servant nods and heads to the kitchen.

"Enjoying your stay, Your Highness?" you wonder, and Suguru's eyes flick up to you as your toe caresses his calf under the table. He drops his fork onto his plate on accident, mouth still open, but quickly recovers and clears his throat.

"I'm enjoying everything this country has to offer," he smiles, and you nod, just as the servant brings a glass of wine to the table.

"For you, your Highness," he murmurs and places it in front of Suguru.

"A toast, then." Suguru raises his glass, looking you in the eyes. "To our future, and the future of our families." You raise your own wine glass and take a sip, watching Suguru down his in one go. "This is exquisite," he murmurs, looking at the dregs of wine in awe before turning to the servant and saying:

"Bring me another glass."

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23 @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fiona782 @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on @just4readingfics @sammytamaki @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling @vabybizzle @debevv

#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen #getou suguru x reader

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kim-ruzek · 3 years

Text

family we chose

Summary: spec fic for season nine bc that photo of paddy with painted nails Sent me. (Ft. Dad!am and cuteness)

Warnings: Cute adorableness and the possiblity you may die from how fluffy it is.

Word Count: 3.6k (lol can you believe I thought this would be 1-2k?)

Read on AO3

Notes: Paddy + painted nails + Theories = me going fucking crazy with feels.

“Adam, are you done yet?” Makayla calls to him, her voice a whine. Six year olds are not known for their patience, and Makayla is no different.

“Almost,” Adam replies as he finishes up putting away the freshly washed plates from their dinner. Makayla is old enough that she can play, happily and contently, by herself without his participation but during dinner she had asked him if they can play princesses and who was he to say no?

Especially when it helps distract her from the awkward questions she’s asking about Kim, and the clear anxiety and worry which is clearly plaguing the girl, the missing presence of her adoptive mother hanging over them both like a dark cloud.

It’s day two of Kim being in the hospital—day three, if he was to count the night Kevin and Jay found her. She had been in surgery for hours, and it had killed Adam to have to stay away, to not he at the hospital, but Kevin stayed on the phone with him and he was grateful for that.

And it was easier knowing that he was doing what Kim would want, that he was looking after her little girl, helping to preserve some normality in Makayla’s life.

When he had looked after her that night, he had just told her that Kim was busy at work, and he could see that Makayla had sensed that wasn’t just it, but for the most part she believed him. The next day was more difficult, however.

They knew that Kim is going to be okay. She has quite the recovery ahead of her, and she’s nowhere near ready to leave the hospital—she hasn’t even stayed awake for more than five minutes, and even that might be too generous. And so Adam had the task of telling Makayla this.

In his years as a cop, he’s had to do a lot of notifications and telling people that their loved ones are in the hospital but it never gets easier, and none of it could prepare him for having to tell Kim’s six year old.

It had gone better than Adam had thought, with him discovering that he’s a little better at this whole thing than he assumed he’d be. But Makayla’s worries and fears was clear; Adam having to reassure her that Kim will be coming home, and that in a few days, she’ll be able to see her.

“And,” Adam had told her with a smile, hoping to distract her. “Until then, we can have lots and lots of fun together.”

His goofy smile and his light hearted voice seemed to reassure her, as she had smiled at him them, an adorable toothy grin that somehow—even though it makes no sense to as why—reminded him of Kim.

Makayla had asked him if they could make Kim a card, to which he obviously said yes, and they had a fun evening with card, paint and glitter and Adam thought that maybe he’ll actually be able to do this. She did, however, when night came ask if she could sleep in his—Kim’s—bed and, although it sent him briefly into a panic, he immediately said yes, wanting to be able to report to Kim that he did everything right.

“Adam!” Makayla calls impatiently again and Adam laughs, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m coming,” he says, walking to her and taking a seat beside her. His bones complains about how low to the ground he has to be, but Makayla’s bright smile makes it worth it.

“Okay then, lil darlin’, how do we play princesses?” He asks her and her smile widens at her new moniker he’s given her. He called it her yesterday, right after yet another thought that Kim and her may not be blood related, or even known each other for long, but there’s already so many similarities between the two came to him.

“I’m not that small, Adam! I’m third tallest in my class!” Makayla had initially protested to the lil part of name.

“I know you’re not that small,” He had agreed, even though to him, she is, obviously. “But you’re lil darlin’ because you’re Kim’s daughter and Kim is darlin’.”

He had then momentarily freaked out, because he’s not sure how she feels about being called Kim’s daughter, and because he was scared that she’d think he was forgetting all about her mother, the one who raised her for six years.

But Makayla didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she seemed to beam wider at it. She made it clear that she liked Kim and her having matching monikers, and that she’s Kim’s junior—and thankfully, she didn’t ask why Kim is darlin’, as Adam had no idea how to answer that.

Makayla, now, in response to his question, jumps up and runs to her bedroom. She’s back shortly after, with a box filled with princess outfits, and bright materials, like a fluffy neon boa scarf.

“Here!” she places the box down, smiling proudly. Adam eagerly returns the smile, before fishing out a tutu out of it. He holds it up, grinning goofily at her.

“Somehow I think this won’t fit me.” He jokes and Makayla giggles.

“Of course it won’t, silly. You can use some of Kim’s clothes!” Makayla tells him.

Makayla quickly chooses what clothes she—and he—is going to wear, wrapping the neon boa scarf around his neck proudly. And then she’s going back to her bedroom, coming out with a smaller, more delicate box.

“First, we need to put on this!” She exclaims, opening the box to reveal kid makeup, nail polish and some stickers. Adam raises his eyebrow.

“Kim says we have to put it on before the clothes, so we don’t get the nail vanish on it.” Adam thinks she means varnish, her mistake making his heart constrict at the adorableness. Makayla then grabs this sheet, putting it over the rug.

“And we need to make sure we don’t mess the carpet,”

With that done, Adam peers into the box. “Okay, what colour do you want to paint my nails?”

It’s not a sentence Adam ever thought he’d say, not at this time anyway, but he doesn’t mind. Not even when Makayla’s eyes fill up with glee and mischief as she happily exclaims;

“All of them!”

Adam isn’t one who takes much photos, especially as he got older and more serious, and had less things in his life he wanted to document. But he takes lots after him and Makayla dress up, wanting to have a record of this for when Kim is properly awake.

And, if he’s honest, for himself, as—despite the love of his life being in hospital in the ICU—this is the happiest he’s been in a while. He snaps photos of not only Makayla, but himself, capturing his made up face, the tiara on his head and his multi-coloured nails.

Makayla is at school the next day, and Adam is in Kim’s hospital room. He’s showered and washed off his face, and in his clothes, obviously, but his nails are still painted. Makayla seemed to be really happy at him letting her paint his nails—saying offhandedly that her uncle never used to let her paint his nails—so he kept them. That, and because he couldn’t find the remover for it, of course.

“Hey, Kim.” Adam says softly. Kim’s not awake, still sleeping and if it wasn’t for the bruise on her face, the hospital gown, and all the wires surrounding her, Adam would think she looks so peaceful, like she’s just slumbering in her bed at home.

She’s off the ventilator, now, and Adam thinks that he’ll be able to take Makayla in to see her tomorrow, even if she’s not awake when he does, because she doesn’t seem as scary, as hit and miss and near death.

He’ll never be able to get the image of her lying attached to the ventilator, the day after they found her. Adam had dropped Makayla off at school and headed straight to the hospital. Kevin had met him outside, and warned him it wasn’t pretty, and he thought he was prepared—but nothing could ever prepare him for that.

Adam sits down next to her bed, now, lightly holding her hand in his. He’s immediately brought back to all those years ago, to when she was shot the first time, and she was in the hospital. He feels just as sick as he did then, feeling as if half of his heart is gone.

He can’t help thinking how this is the reverse of then, too. Back then, he had to hide how he felt from everyone, the only one who knew was Kim. And now, now he doesn’t have to hide it, everyone in his unit knows just how much he loves her, but Kim doesn’t—or rather, perhaps, can’t see it, for whatever reason.

He’s caught up in this thought that he doesn’t notice her stirring, her eyes opening. He only realises she’s awake when she squeezes his hand—weakly, still not strong—and his eyes look up from the spot they’ve been staring at and to her face.

Kim’s eyes are only half open, heavy lidded, but she’s awake and she’s looking at him. Currently, the only people who has gotten to see Kim, awake, is the doctor, the nurse and Kevin and Trudy. Adam knows he’s needed by Makayla, but he can’t help but feel envy, jealousy, that others got to have her see them and he hasn’t.

But now she’s awake, and she’s looking at him. There’s a smile dancing on her lips, soft and gentle but so, so Kim. His mind can’t help but go back to that first time she was shot again, and about the smile she gave him then, when she realised he was there, with her.

“Adam,” Her voice is barely there, dry and hoarse, coming out a little more than a whisper. But his heart skips a beat at hearing her say his name, and he knows he should calm himself, because Kim has made it clear that dating isn’t on the table—even if he thinks her reasons are nonsense—but he can’t because he loves her, because he nearly lost her, because he’s spent the last few days looking after her daughter and wishing she was his as well, because she’s awake and she’s looking at him and she’s saying his name.

“Hey, Kim.” He says again, managing to catch himself just in time before he accidentally slipped out a darlin’ instead. Her eyes glance down before glancing back up, her smile widening.

“I like the nails.” Her smile is playful, teasing and even though her voice is still dry, he can hear the amusement in it. Adam looks down at his hands, still around hers, and he feels oddly exposed, that it’s apparent just how desperate he is for them to be a family.

“Makayla and I played princesses.” He tells her, proudly, shrugging off any feelings of desperation and insecurity. He then pulls back from her hands, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“I took photos—if you want to see?” He offers, watching as Kim’s eyes light up. She instantly tries to move, to adjust herself so she’s sitting up more and he immediately stops her, jumping to help her instead.

Kim shifts over, encouraging him to sit down on the bed so that she can see the photos with ease. She’s been in the hospital for days, and the sterile smell clings to her, but he can still smell her, the essence that’s just Kim as she rests against him. He tries to calm his beating heart, but that’s impossible whenever Kim is around him, whenever she is on him.

Especially right now. When all he can think about is how much he loves her, and how domestic this all feels, showing her photos of her daughter, the daughter Adam’s been looking after.

Adam is showing her the photos, getting near the end of the mass he took, when he realises she’s stopped cooing. He thinks she must’ve fallen back asleep—understandable, depending everything her body has been through—but when he looks down at her, she’s still awake.

She’s not looking at the photos, but at him. There’s a softness, affection, in her expression and Adam doesn’t quite know how to read it.

“I love you.” She says then, her voice the clearest it’s been. He blinks, stunned, not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

“Kim—” He goes to say that they don’t need to talk right now, that he doesn’t need to hear this, but she continues, fixing him a look—a look that reminds him a fair bit of Trudy—telling him to be quiet.

“When I was in that warehouse, dying, all I could think about—other than Makayla—was you. I even called out to you; all I wanted was you, to have you save me. I thought I was going to die and all I could think about was how we’ve left things, how I’ve pushed you away. You’re my person, Adam. I know, now, I’m never going to want anyone else and all what I’ve been trying to convince myself about you, about us, it’s bull. I love you, and I never want to be scared that I’ll die without you knowing that ever again.”

This is everything Adam has wanted to hear for years, and exactly what he’s been desperate for ever since, right before Kim fostered Makayla, they slept together again. It’s embarrassing how many nights he’s spent lying awake, staring at his ceiling, wishing for her to say this to him but now, when it’s actually happening it, all he can do is stare, stunned, at her.

“Kim,” He says again, her name leaving his lip sounding quite like a plea. Hearing her say this, hearing her tell him this, it means more to him than he could ever describe and he doesn’t know exactly how to express that, how to express the thoughts and feelings in his mind, in his heart.

“Look, we don’t need to like. I don’t expect anything from you. I know we have stuff we need to talk about, I can’t click my fingers and make everything that’s happened between us okay. But I needed you to know this—I thought I could wait, until I’m better. But you—you let Makayla paint your nails,” It’s so much more than that one gesture, Adam can tell. He can tell from how she says the words, the way seeing his nails painted means so much to her, that it signifies something so much more important than just him having fun with her daughter. And he can tell because he knows her, knows Kim better than he even knows himself.

And he understands exactly what she means, excited what she’s feeling. When he let Makayla paint his nails, he did hope that it would show Kim that he’s taking his role seriously, taking the fact that he’s their family seriously, but that wasn’t why he let her. Adam let her because she’s an adorable child, because she’s Kim’s daughter, because she deserves to be happy. He wasn’t thinking about what he could personally gain from it, it was just something he did without much thought, something that just made sense to agree too—just because Makayla asked.

Adam can see that Kim understands that, and that’s what’s resonated with her, that’s what’s making her look at him like that, with love and adoration and utter affection, a look he hasn’t quite seen in her eyes since the day he proposed to her.

It’s the first time since Kim was pregnant and let him in that hope blooms in him; that Adam has hope that finally, finally, he’ll get his girl again.

He softly strokes his thumb against her hand, before lifting it up and giving it a gentle kiss. “I know, darlin’.” He doesn’t hesitate or hold back now, knowing that it will be received well, and Kim smiles at it.

Adam notices then that she’s looking tired, and realises that her body needs more rest. He gently puts down her hand. “Rest, now. We can talk more about this—us—when you’re better. You need to rest and recover, because I know there’s an adorable six year old who misses you very much.”

Kim smiles again and Adam’s heart warms at the sight of it. “And darlin’? I love you, too.”

She falls asleep shortly after that. Adam doesn’t particularly want her too, not ready to stop seeing her awake, to talk to her, to see her smile and hear her voice. But he’s okay with it, because she wants him and she might be asleep now, but they have all the time in the world, the rest of their lives, to be together.

A couple days later, Kim has gotten stronger and needs less wires, the bruise on her face going down and colour returning to her face. She’s still got such a long recovery ahead of her, and she still needs to be in the hospital for a few more weeks, but Adam can finally bring Makayla with him.

The six year old is very excited, waking Adam up at an unholy time in the morning, practically jumping around the place. She’s made Kim another card and several pictures—some of which includes Adam in them, which warmed his heart—and while she understands Kim can’t come home just yet, she’s still very happy she can see her.

Adam walks through the hospital to Kim’s room, Makayla on his hip—although the way she’s bouncing, squirming with barely contained excitement, it’s a miracle Adam is able to keep hold of her.

He’d have let her bound ahead, walking by herself, if it wasn’t for it being a hospital, Adam wanting to make sure she’s contained and doesn’t cause any destruction.

There are many perks to being a cop, and being able to weave through the hospital with ease just with the wave of your badge is one of them. Although, Adam’s badge isn’t around his neck, Makayla having claimed it for herself.

“Can I wear it?” She asked him that morning, when he explained to her why he was wearing it around his neck, on display. He had agreed, not only because she’s too cute to say no to, but because she’d be carried by him, which would clearly show the other adults around that he was a cop, even if she was wearing it.

“Uncle Kev!” Makayla greets Kevin enthusiastically as they approach Kim’s hospital room. Kevin’s been sitting with Kim until they arrive, and at Adam’s text that they had, he had clearly headed out, ready to greet them.

“Hey, M.” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s curls, the girl grinning as he does so. He then nods in greeting to Adam; the two men still need to have a long conversation—in which Adam knows his role will be too listen, the only words being an apology—and they won’t be totally fine until they do, but there’s an understanding between them.

“How is she?” Adam asks Kevin, discreetly asking if Kim is tired, so he can prepare Makayla for that.

“Good, getting better and better. She’s been napping all morning, so she’s ready for this little one,” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s hair again. “Now, M, Adam’s explained that Kim’s gonna need to take it slow? That it might be scary—but she’s okay, she’ll be home before you know it?”

Kevin’s years of raising his siblings is displayed in how he talks to Makayla, using a soft, but adult tone?

After Makayla nods in answer to Kevin, Adam’s walking into Kim’s hospital room, the six year old on his hip. Kim’s sitting up in her bed, ready and eager to see Makayla. A wide, happy grin overtakes her face as soon as they enter and Kim sees Makayla.

Adam puts Makayla down as soon as they cross the threshold and she wastes no time running up to Kim’s bed. She does hesitate before jumping onto the bed, taking a step back and cautiously climbing up at the end, not wanting to accidentally sit on Kim.

Adam watches this, and watched how then Kim guides Makayla into her arms, her daughter immediately snuggling into them, looking happier than she’s looked in days. The scene tugs at Adam’s heart; they really do belong together, that is clear, their bond strong and true.

“Come cuddle, Adam!” Makayla then looks back at him, smiling that grin of hers, beckoning him over enthusiastically. He hesitates, not wanting to intrude on the moment, on Kim’s reunion with her daughter, but then Kim smiles at him; a big, loving smile which invites him over.

“Kim, guess what?” Makayla turns back to Kim as he heads over. “I’m lil darlin’! And it’s not ‘cos I’m short, but 'cos I’m your daughter!”

The way this makes Kim feel is clear to Adam, her expression open. She responds to Makayla, but she catches his eye, and Adam knows exactly what she’s trying to express to him.

When he reaches her bed, Kim pats her other side, encouraging him to sit down with them. It’s a tight fit, Adam barely on the bed, but it’s nice. He lifts up his arm, wrapping it around Kim, and she leans into him, Makayla snuggling against her still.

Makayla quickly urges Adam to pass her bag to her, so that she can show Kim all the stuff she made for her. Kim’s face lights up at them, looking with awe and wonder and love but all Adam can think about is how well the three of them fit together, that they’re already like a family.

There’s so much to discuss and work out, but Adam is looking forward to what the future holds if this is even a small glimpse into what it’ll be like.

#burzek #chicago pd #cpd spoilers #<- bc it refers to a bts pic #kim burgess x adam ruzek #chicago pd fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #adam ruzek #kim burgess #Makayla Burgess

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obtusata · 2 years

Text

intensive care nursing

this is an essay i wrote for school in april 2021

Intensive Care Nursing

The intensive care unit, or ICU, is a unit in hospitals that that treats patients who are critically, acutely, ill. This includes things like patients on life support or with organ failure. ICU nurses are nurses working in the ICU, they deal with incredibly sensitive and important cases, and arguably have more duties than regular “floor nurses.” Things like intubation, CPR, and other life saving procedures are something floor nurses don’t have to deal with near as often as those working in intensive care.

Some duties ICU nurses have are regularly checking and recording vital signs, lab work, and doing general assessments. They also clean and care for wounds and equipment and reposition patients. I recently interviewed D.L., an intensive care nurse who has been working in the field for approximately six years. Asking her what a normal shift looks like, she said first and foremost that there is no such thing as a normal shift, when working in the ICU; the expected is the unexpected.

D.L. does however have a routine that she follows every shift to stay as organized as possible on the job, which is critical in all aspects in healthcare. She starts her shift by getting the report from the nurse who is just getting off of their shift, and checks patients charts. Looking at the current days lab results, she compares them to the previous ones and notes anything of significance, reporting necessary information to the doctors. After these basics are complete, D.L. checks others notes to get an idea of what the doctors are watching for and what treatment plans are. She then creates her own note sheet to remind her when to administer medications, reposition patients, etc. During assessments, D.L. also notes the settings of the machines like ventilators or IV lines. People working in the ICU always need to be as on top of everything as possible, incase a patient takes a turn for the worst and needs undivided attention.

Every day for all nurses includes informing patients and their families about the current situations them or their loved one is going through, and answering any questions anyone has. However when working with critical care patients, this task is much more taxing. According to D.L., “good days” are days filled with things like: checking blood sugar levels, repositioning patients, and charting. “Busier” days include blood transfusions, titrating drips, proning patients (repositioning them to lie on their stomach as to help with respiratory issues), assisting with procedures, making phone calls, and changing dressings. “Rougher days” involve participating in a code and/or postmortem care.

When working in the ICU, death is a something that is expected. According to D.L., approximately 75% of all deaths in hospital occur in the ICU. When asked what something she didn’t expect from this line of work was, D.L. simply responded “I didn’t expect my work to feel futile as much as it does.” The feeling of delaying death instead of really preventing it is something that’s expected at least every once in a while, when working in healthcare, however when you work in an environment with so much death, that feeling is much more prevalent and something that you have to learn to cope with when working in the ICU.

Asking D.L. what some advice she has for people looking to go into ICU nursing, her first and foremost statement was “ICU is not for everyone, and that’s okay.” Some people, no matter how passionate about something, are naturally not able to handle it. “Critical care is intense in every way possible,” D.L. obviously also warns of the feeling of delaying death rather than preventing it, and suggests developing healthy coping mechanisms and finding balance in your life, because with a stressful job you cannot have a stressful home life.

Technology is changing healthcare rapidly, resulting in better care and longer lifespans. D.L. expects that with this rise in technology ICU patients will slowly get sicker and older with this lifespan increase. However, this will likely result in a higher demand for ICU workers. D.L. also believes that nurses will slowly gain more and more responsibilities “as has been the case since Florence Nightingale.” Personally, D.L. hopes for more efficient electronic health records so patients can get more attentive personal care.

Asking what drew her to working in the intensive care unit, D.L. said that she wanted to be a paramedic, but changed her mind after finding out how ridiculously low paramedics salaries are. In the United States paramedic salaries are 45k on average, while ICU nurses salaries are around 76k. She planned to work in the ICU for a while, then move on to Life Flight (or working in a helicopter ambulance), but “life happened,” and despite the times she left the ICU she kept coming back for more.

Personally, I think that ICU nursing is a “high risk-high reward” type of career that I would love to pursue is ever given the opportunity. I say “high risk-high reward” because it can be so taxing on ones self, however when you really do make that difference in someone’s life or save someone’s life, that is extremely emotionally fulfilling. I was shocked and saddened to hear at how prevalent the feeling of delaying lives instead of saving them is, as I had considered this before when thinking of going into nursing but I never would have guessed just how much it effects healthcare workers, and it is now something that definitely makes me reconsider the want to work in critical care.

My interview with D.L. helped to reinforce with me just how strong, brave, and determined ICU workers and health care workers in general are, and I am grateful for the opportunity to interview her and learn more about ICU nursing from a more personal perspective.

#academic essay #essay #writing #writers and poets #female writers #nursing #icunurse

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idratherdreamofjune · 3 years

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Someone requested I share about the experience of fighting a COVID outbreak in my workplace (a nursing home). This happened last Oct/Nov and is already sort of a blur in my head (partly because I worked the night shift for it). At the time I suspected the details would fade, so I started jotting down bullet-pointed moments in my journal. Having been forced to experience history, I want to share my own little corner of it. So here are [most of] the minimally-edited odds and ends collected over seven weeks on “the Unit”:

It started as four rooms behind a duct-taped & zippered plastic curtain at the end of a hall - “a slide projector and a bed sheet” as I told my family cheerily over the phone.

“The old way” refers to how we did things yesterday, and tomorrow there will be another new change

Getting tired of requesting supplies from outside and never receiving them; considering rephrasing as demands

Damp-dusting with Virex; we are our own housekeeping staff for the first three weeks (when we have time, which is increasingly hard to spare)

Constantly bumping face shields with the CNA as we roll a patient together

Pillows and then blankets are scarce as deliveries from laundry outside are delayed, so when a patient was sent out I reappropriated the clean-enough blankets for their roommate

Patterns begin to emerge even in week one - when a patient takes a turn for the worse it happens suddenly and drastically

Catching the local news on a TV and realizing that one of the new deaths in the county was ours

-------

Week Two cemented the unspoken understanding that no matter how much of a disaster you walk into at shift change, the proper response is always “It’s fine, don’t worry about it!”

Expanded to two full halls

Scavenging with the CNA in the wasteland of the “airlock” outside the unit; three rooms had been cleaned out but in the fourth we struck gold: two and a half packages of chux!

Getting rattled when the phone rings at 2 am because it’s probably word of another patient about to be delivered, disoriented and upset, through the zipper door.

“We have -” *pause* “- twenty to thirty patients!”

Every night I loose another layer of skin inside sweaty gloves

We all agree that, between stress and the sweaty PPE, working on the COVID unit is the perfect way to lose the “Quarantine fifteen”.

The oldest nurse on the unit - who volunteered on day two of the outbreak because most of the positive patients were hers - goes home with a fever and ends up in the ICU

--------------------

Late in week three we expand again to three halls, peaking at 56 patients

As staff cases spike the rules are adjusted to allow work on the COVID unit as soon as you’re asymptomatic

Rumors trickle in: outside they’re so understaffed that the Executive Director is working the floor as a CNA

The first three recovered patients were sent back through the airlock but we were all too tired and busy to take more than passing notice

Working on election night was an experience, I had to tell a patient who woke up at 6 am that, no, we still don’t have an official president, so sorry

Limited IV pole availability leads to creative solutions like the classic “stick a thumbtack in the wall” and the new favorite “just use one of the curtain hooks”

Limited IV fluid is a bigger problem

In report from day shift: “This was the first day we all cried within the same 15 minutes.”

--------------

Weeks four and five run together

Word ran through the unit that a housekeeper had just walked in, and we welcomed her with great excitement

EMTs trying to refuse to take our patients to the crowded hospital - I was never trained what to do when emergency services stay outside and try to change the family’s mind

CNA in full PPE with a huge red biohazard bag over one shoulder: “I’m the COVID Santa!”

Remdesivir is now the doctors’ drug of choice, but no one can pronounce it for at least a week

One night the county coroner has to come twice. She puts a mask on the bodies before double-bagging “since the drive is a little bumpy”

Twice-weekly testing results no longer deliver lines of positive patients to our door as most now have it or have had it

The day after the unit shrinks back to two halls I am interrupted by a nurse I haven’t seen on the unit before, looking for a patient who moved off the unit days ago... “When did you start on the COVID unit?” is met with a moment of concerned silence; she did not at all intend to be on the COVID unit!

-------

For the last two weeks of operations we have little more than a handful of patients, then just one

As the unit begins to be, somehow, overstaffed, a “first shall be last” policy is implemented and the more recent volunteers are returned to the outside to work with recovered patients

“Today has been like the Twilight Zone” - report from day shift about Thanksgiving on the unit with one patient and new admissions coming in outside

Night shifts by myself with the patient - I never thought I’d be so bored at work, much less on the unit

I may actually miss waking up to sunsets, which I’ve found to be calming

#COVID nurse #covid experience #plague nurse #I mean thank God it wasn't really yersinia pestis or - even worse - ebola #COVID gothic #;P #mine #in roughly chronological order #wow there is a lot of this....

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jjba-hell · 4 years

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Rock Bottom

Day 2 and the Prompt we going for was- Insecurity. And lemme just say I went ham on this one. Sorry for anyone who read my unedited version a few hours ago, my tumblr cue time is weird af...

This is a bit of a mash up between backstory and insecurity but definitely ANGSTY AF! Really now, good luck.

There are ALLOT of trigger warnings so much, I dare say it’s rated. Drug use, pregnancy, postnatal complications (and death), ABUSE (emotional, physical, verbal, familial), prostitution (mention)...I probably missed allot but this one is intense.

Gonna tag @a-nonnie-mousse (’cause you a sweetie) and @lasquadraweek2020 for this one and also @risottoneroo (though if Mel’s not your cup of tea, I’m so sorry but we mutuals now so sowwy UwU)

2,4 K words- good luck ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

Looking at the mirror one morning Melone couldn’t help but breath a heavy sigh. March 22nd held a painful memory to him- which was why he was due at the graveyard at 9 for a personal meeting. Risotto had been kind enough to allow it but not without warning.

“Don’t get caught.” Was all he said.

“Yeah, like I’d allow another fuck up.” He scoffed as he tied his hair back to get ready. As if he hadn’t heard enough of that in his life. Gazing back at himself mirror- tired and defeated he recalled a younger version of himself doing and thinking the same thing a few years ago- looking back at the mirror and feeling the same way he did at that moment. It had happened after another fight with his mother.

“Stefan.” His mother hissed as she angrily loomed over his shoulder. “What’s this?” She tossed the physics pop quiz on the table in front of him- feeling panic set in his spine, wanting to jump out of his chair and hurdle his way out of her grasp. He had thrown that piece of paper away- he could have sworn he did. Right now, of course, he was wishing he had burned it instead.

“Nothing, mama.”

“Nothing is it? Because it looks like a C- to me.”

He swallowed, hoping she was a too tired to fight him today. “Most of the class-“

“I don’t-“she grabbed hold of the hair on top of his head and shoved his head down onto the table. “-CARE ABOUT HOW MOST OF THE CLASS DID! That is going on your report card!”

He kept his head down, nose bleeding into the algebra homework he was working on below him. Picking up his head now would only make her hurt him more. “Mama, it was a mock test.”

“So, this is how little you know. Did you cheat your way through your grades your whole life?”

He didn’t say anything, knowing there was no point in arguing with her when she was like this.

Melone grew up in a household most people would find bizarre but he never labelled it abuse. Not until his university sweetheart held his hand and asked him. “Why do you apologize for everything you do?”

It wasn’t hard to figure out once he sat down and considered it instead of shoving the question aside in favour of a taking a bit of ecstasy and a willing side piece- a bad habit he had picked up after he left the hellish hole he called home.

“You’re just as stupid as your father.”

“You’re just as spineless as your mother.”

Two phrases interchanged by two people who didn’t love each other in the slightest and him in the middle of it all- wondering why nothing he did was ever enough.

Melone shook off the memory as he splashed his face with the warm water from the tap, only to end up being caught up in his own reflection again, by the gaze of his heterochromatic eyes- the mask he wore on the lay job forgotten on his bedside table. He had had many of his one night stands tell him he was gorgeous with the one blue and one green eye but he had spent enough of his childhood being told by his father what a freak it made him.

He gazed back at his own bed, surprisingly devoid of the previous night’s endeavour. So, he pulled the sheets off and remade the bed, thinking on how badly he wished he wasn’t sober- numbing away the grief he was feeling with a little white pill and the pleasure of being praised between the sheets.

The weather forecast called for a cold chill and some scattered showers, how fitting for the proper black coat and suit he left the apartment in. He got into the car with Ghiacchio without another word beside a simple greeting, not wanting to anger the blue-haired man beside him- he didn’t quiet feel up to the banter, or perhaps arguments was a better word, he shared with Ghiacchio.

The scenery melded from cityscape to countryside- reminding him of the first time he went to this graveyard. At the time, tragedy has struck his life like lightning and was burning down everything he had dared to hope for- the person waiting for him at the church connected to the graveyard was all hope he had left to save Bianca.

The life of the mafia was never really one he was completely ignorant of- the contraband he used to take like sugar pills was just one of the ways he already had his foot in the door- although at the time he simply deemed himself as paying for a product from a lackey. When he cleaned up his act for Bianca he thought he’d never have to delve that dark again. The straight and narrow path didn’t last long though and soon he came to realize that he had been surrounded by crime his whole life, only waiting to be inevitably swallowed by it.

Ghiacchio pulled up a few blocks short of the graveyard gates and Melone handed him a wad of cash as payment. “That’s generous.” Ghiacchio commented but Melone didn’t answer. He simply got up and thanked him again. He would walk the rest of the way- which wasn’t far.

Melone bought a handful of Marigolds from the flower vendor on his way and continued to move through the gates- meandering through as he racked his brain as to where they were buried. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t care, it just hurt too much to think about often enough to remember. When he eventually found the white marble mausoleum he stepped in and found the two plaques on the wall where he inserted the flowers into their designated holdings. Bianca Regio and Vita Regio.

Six years ago, shortly after he graduated his first-year medical school, he had gotten some news from his girlfriend Bianca- she was pregnant with his baby. He supposed normal students would have seen their whole lives doomed but the joy he felt overwhelmed his worry surrounding finances to take care of the child. It was most definitely not his plan, but he didn’t care. He felt so hopeful for the kid’s sake- a prospect he looked back at and cringed at his own desperation to give something he never had. He and his girlfriend loved each other. Even thinking on that phrase made his heart ache. She loved him. He loved her. They were going to start a loving family together. He could give them what he never had. It only occurred to him later on how contradicting that was but at the time, ignorance was bliss.

It didn’t last long of course- six months after Bianca told him she went into premature labour and then shortly after got a blood clot in her portal vein. Vita was born 3 months too early and was already in intensive care within hours of her birth and Bianca was getting weaker by the minute. The panic and desperation set into Melone the second she was moved into the ICU with no prospect of getting better. Despite severing ties with his parents Melone knew where his bread was buttered. A broke medical student couldn’t wish to pay the medical bills Bianca was tallying up in the hospital. He didn’t even think twice to call his father and admit his defeat.

What his father told him would have shocked anyone else in this world- to hear your father say. “The capo that runs this town is at the church in Venicio- confession ends in an hour.” It suddenly made sense how his father could always afford the expensive cars or the expensive furniture in their home despite being a lowly state attorney while his mother worked as his assistant.

Melone took a cab as close as close to the church as he dared- true to his father warning-and ran to the find the man who could help him.

“Signore, I beg you. My love and our child are in danger.” He had begged as he dropped to his knees in front of the man. “I sell myself to you, my future, my life. It’s all yours if you would just lend me for the medical bills now.”

The capo ran a hand over Melone’s tear-streaked face, pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger. Melone was made to gaze up at him. The stern, unreadable expression made him tense up in fear of accidentally disrespecting him. But the capo turned Melone’s head as if to observe him. “I’ll consider it.” He grumbled as he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash which Melone took in disbelief. “I expect you at Libechio’s tomorrow afternoon, sharp.”

And with that, he moved past Melone.

He didn’t regret it, he never would. It only hurt that at face value it was in vain. The money spoke louder than his begging ever would and as it turned out- whatever treatment they gave Bianca allowed her to be moved back into a regular hospital room. He spoke to Bianca the very morning he was due at Libeccio’s- feeling hopeful that she’d recover. Even the capo took pity on him, saying he’d have handed him to a pimp that day if it weren’t for the news of Bianca’s position. At the time, Melone had no idea what the capo had meant- not truly. He thought the capo had learned more about him- about Biacna’s pre-term labour and her sudden illness but he understands now that they are usually not that giving.

Instead, Melone got an alternative deal. Melone would finish his medical studies full term on the capo’s good graces to fulfill the need for a medic in the mafia before he would be officially initiated. since he lost Lucy and their unborn child in the same night.

The expensive treatment Melone had paid for gave Melome a solid two days before he had to give a painful, final goodbye to both Bianca and his daughter. The baby’s heartbeat was lost two hours prior to Bianca’s death. He had begged, pleaded for her to hold on just a bit longer but with tear-rimmed he said his final goodbye, grasping onto her like she was his lifeline. He didn’t let go of her until they escorted him out of the room- by then her hand had lost all its warmth.

Outside of the hospital he came face to face with Bianca’s family- having to explain to her parents what had happened to her. Standing in front of them was probably the heaviest thing he had been forced to do. Suddenly all the insecurities his parents ever made him believe were proved right. He wasn’t enough to take care of Bianca. He wasn’t enough to take care of Vita. He wasn’t enough to take care of himself. He wasn’t smart enough to have come up with a plan without his father’s help. He wasn’t smart enough to understand that he’d never be able to live the life he so desperately craved.

After that he had to go home and clear away all her books and research she had left on his desk, the plans he had for the nursery, the applications for a home loan and eventually even the ring he wanted to propose to her with was pawned- anything to try and rid himself of any reminder of his failure. To forget the pain of losing all he had hoped for in one night.

“Stefan.” A voice called beside him.

“Mrs Regio.” He turned to Bianca’s mother who held a bundle of flowers in her hand. “You look well.”

“As do you, Mrs Regio.” He didn’t say anything else, simply handing over the envelope of cash he owed her family.

Bianca and Melone turned out to have more in common than they truly knew. Bianca ran away from home when she found out her parents were involved in organized crime and Melone ran away only to find out his family did the same. Because the money Melone borrowed from the capo went towards Bianca’s treatment- it was her parents who let her slip away from their care and they therefor had to take on the debt Melone had made. He refused to let Bianca’s parents think lowly of him so that brought him here, paying off a year’s worth of debt every year he met with Mrs Regio.

He turned to look at Bianca’s plaque one more, praying that she could forgive him for failing her and continuing to fail her as he continued to live as he did. His sobriety was thrown out the window the day he came home from her funeral. He kept up his promise of finishing his degree on whatever he felt like using until he had to be initiated- then he had to sober up just enough to do his job in the mafia.

BabyFace came to be and so did his most lecherous self- which made eventually stop seeing victims and mothers as people but as faceless bodies. But when he woke up after a high of a kill all he could ask was:

Was that all he was worth? Was that what his soul was made of? An intense hunger for still wanting to find the perfect mother, be a perfect father and create the perfect baby? Now thriving on make others understand how it feels to be deconstructed until they’re nothing- just as he had for so many years? Was this trauma always going to taunt him? Was he always going to be reminded of his insecurity within himself?

At first the stand seemed useless until he tried using his stand on a mission to take out a bastard who was behind on rent money. It was then that he realized it was better for murder than it was at helping him achieve the dream that haunted him.

“It wasn’t your fault, Stefan. You did more than we could.”

“Not enough.”

The two stepped out of the mausoleum, closing the door behind them. “You’re a good man, Stefan.” Was the last thing Bianca’s mother told him before turning and walking away.

Melone shook his head as he started walking back to the entrance of the graveyard.

“I never was, Mrs Regio.”

The second he got back into the car with Ghiacchio, he popped a pill and asked to wait a few minutes so he could take a smoke break and call an old friend of his…

“Yeah I don’t care who, just make sure she’s not new.”

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #jojo part 5 #jojo golden wind #la squadra #lasquadraweek2020 #Melone

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darlingandmreames · 3 years

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And the Contagion!AU lives on! It’s not particularly long, but it’s a scene that’s been living in my mind for a little while aksjhgdfjsk. Thanks to the ever lovely @dbakeiro for her wonderful enabling ^-^

*******************************************************************************************

Eames checked his phone for the fifth time in barely more than ten minutes. He knew it was stupid of him. Arthur was working. The on-site reports they’d been getting had been pretty bad so he would’ve had to hit the ground running. The likelihood was that he wouldn’t have time to check in until the evening when he was back at the hotel, so it was unrealistic to think that he would’ve texted in the past few minutes. Eames knew all of that. But he checked his phone again nonetheless.

“You do realize that phones have this neat little thing called text notifications so that you’ll be alerted when you get a message, rather than having to check every few minutes just to see, right?”

“Yes, Dom, I am aware of that, thank you.” He frowned and looked back at his computer screen, trying to go back to reading through the information they currently had and figure out what mitigation measures they were going to need to take with the media. This was going to be a mess to deal with; the outbreak seemed to be centered in a school so most of the cases so far had been kids, which meant most of the fatalities had been kids too, and that was a surefire way to get people worked up. The local headlines were already running with the sensational angle, and if they didn’t get a lid on this they’d be dealing with a panic soon. They’d need to do some serious damage control as soon as they got there, and it was up to Eames to figure out how exactly they were going to go about doing that, but his mind kept wandering every time he tried to force himself to focus. Wandering back to Arthur. When it came to jobs, this certainly wasn’t a bad one to have as his first case back in the field. Bacterial meningitis was serious, but it was far less contagious than most of the diseases they came in contact with and Arthur’s vaccines were fully up to date, so the chances of him getting sick were very low. They weren't zero, though.

He hadn’t wanted Arthur to go on the job in the first place. He’d known Arthur would return to the field eventually- it was the crux of his job, after all- but it had been something distant that would happen in the future. When he got out of the hospital. When he recovered. When his doctors signed off on his health. It was something they’d deal with later, a bridge they’d cross when they finally came to it. Except then they did come to it, and Eames had found himself wholly unprepared. They’d fought about it; really fought, too, not just disagreed. The sort of fight that ended with yelling and sleeping in separate rooms. They’d talked it out the next day of course, both apologizing, and Eames had relented on his point. This was Arthur’s job, and it wasn’t fair of him to ask Arthur to give that up just because he was worried. He knew that, and when it was clear Arthur had made up his mind he hadn’t pushed it further. But that didn’t mean the worry went away.

Dom chuckled as Eames reached for his phone yet again. “Need me to show you how to get those text alerts set up?”

“Fuck off, Dom.”

“You’ve never been like this on any of the cases before.”

“Yeah, well, it’s different now,” Eames muttered. He opened the messages app, pulling up Arthur’s name, even though he knew he hadn’t received anything. He had to check. Just to be sure.

“Ah right, different now.” Dom was grinning at him. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have pegged you as the clingy boyfriend sort.”

Eames’s jaw tightened and he gripped his phone a little harder. “Seriously, mate, fuck off.”

“Careful, or you might scare Arthur off. You know how he can-”

“I said fuck off.” Dom blinked in surprise and Eames grimaced, rubbing his face. He hadn’t meant for that to come out so harshly. “Sorry, I just…I’m worried, alright? It hasn’t even been a full bloody year since I watched him almost die so it’s…it’s hard having him back out in the field.”

Dom’s expression softened slightly. “Hey, it’s alright, we’re all worried about him. He’ll be fine though. You know Arthur, he’s careful.”

“Yeah, and a fat lot of good it did him last time.” Eames leaned back in his chair with an anxious sigh, tendrils of fear slowly wrapping around his chest. “I just keep thinking, what if I get another call like that, that he’s sick? Or worse, what if I don’t? What if it’s too quick, too sudden, and I just don’t hear anything until it’s too late and it’s not a call that he’s sick, it’s a call that he didn’t make it? I know you’re worried about him too, you’re his friend and you care about him, but,” he looked over at Dom plaintively, “but it’s different for me. I remember what it was like to sit in the ICU with him. To have to stand behind a sheet of glass and try to tell him it’ll be okay, he’ll be okay, even though we both knew he might not be. To drive him back to the hospital at 3am because he woke up unable to breathe properly. I know Arthur’s careful. He’s more careful about this shit than anyone else. But I also know that doesn’t always matter. So I’m just…” He paused, taking a deep breath and trying to shove the anxiety building in his chest back down. “I’m going to be a little on edge for this one, yeah? And probably the next few jobs as well, honestly.”

Dom nodded. “Yeah, of course. Sorry for pushing it.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Eames sighed again and turned back to his computer, scrolling through the documents slowly. Worrying wasn’t going to get him anywhere right now and he really did need to get through this. He still wasn’t absorbing most of it, but he had to at least try. Anxious or not, he still had a job to do. When his phone buzzed a few minutes later though, he grabbed it immediately, documents instantly forgotten.

Sorry for the radio silence, busy day. Wanted to let you know I’m okay.

Eames let out a sigh of relief. Arthur was okay. He was alright. Eames had known he probably was, but the words on the small screen in front of him confirming that were more reassuring than he would’ve thought possible.

Glad to hear it :)

It’s around lunchtime for you, right?

Yeah if I can ever get this bloody reading done

Whenever you take a break, would it be alright if I called? It’d be nice to hear your voice.

He smiled, some of the tension in his chest finally releasing a little. Not completely, but at least a little. He could feel Dom watching him but couldn’t quite find it in him to care.

Of course darling. I was actually just thinking of taking a break now, you can call whenever. It’d be nice to hear your voice too

#arthur x eames #arthur/eames #dream husbands #dreamhusbands #inception #contagion au #arthur #eames #dom cobb #local trash goblin writes stuff

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brucesterling · 4 years

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Lebanon. Always weirdly eager to be worse than everybody else

Aid and support for Lebanon follow massive blast in Beirut. A massive explosion at the city’s port on Tuesday left at least 135 people dead and 5,000 injured while hundreds more are still missing. The blast caused widespread destruction, displacing some 300,000 people according to UN estimates. UNHCR said some of the severely affected areas included neighbourhoods that hosted refugees and that it had received unconfirmed reports of several refugee deaths. Many of Beirut’s intensive care units were already near capacity with COVID-19 patients before the blast put three hospitals out of use and damaged two others. UNHCR said it would expedite its efforts to expand hospital bed and ICU capacity. The agency is also making its in-country stocks of shelter kits, plastic sheets, and other relief items available for immediate distribution and opening its reception centres across the country for critical cases. The explosion came at a time when Lebanon was already in the midst of a severe economic crisis that had pushed many Lebanese and refugees deeper into poverty. The port where the blast occurred was the main entry point to the country for many essential supplies as well as food aid for the region. The World Food Programme said the damage was likely to exacerbate the country’s already grim economic and food security outlook.

We have been watching, in horror, the devastation and despair caused by a vast explosion in Beirut. Our team has been wading through the hundreds of conspiracy theories that are swirling around the internet, as some use the disaster to pursue their own political aims.

• Feeding the conspiracies are unanswered questions about how ammonium nitrate, which is banned in Lebanon, got to Beirut port and was allowed to stay there for six years in violation of the nation’s law and all public safety procedures.

• We tracked down the producers of the ammonium nitrate in Georgia, who sold it — in an apparently legal transaction — to an explosives factory in Mozambique. The trader and owner of the ship that carried the cargo is a Cyprus-based Russian businessman who has now been questioned by Cypriot police. According to the crew, he ordered the ship to change course and sail to Beirut instead of continuing to Mozambique. “I don’t know how he got the permission to dock in Beirut with that illegal cargo,” the Russian captain of the ship told Russian website MediaZona.

• Negligence and corruption are the known causes. This disaster couldn’t have come at a worse time for Lebanon, which, before Tuesday’s explosion, was already in the throes of overlapping economic, political and public health crises. One likely effect of the blast, according to health professionals in Beirut, will be a worsening of the coronavirus pandemic. Virus monitoring has already halted. We have more below, so keep reading.

BEIRUT

EU HELP: European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen pledged some €33 million for “first emergency needs, medical support and equipment, and protection of critical infrastructure” during a call with Lebanese Prime Minister Hassan Diab on Thursday, according to a readout from the Commission. She stressed that the EU attaches great importance to “the unity and stability of Lebanon.” Verbatim, and good luck: “She emphasized that this tragic moment for Lebanon should be the occasion to unite all political forces around a national effort to respond to the many challenges the country is facing,” the readout said.

Translation: The hope in EU capitals is that Tuesday’s massive explosion in Beirut would make the need for reform obvious to all, including the Lebanese elite and those profiting most from the power-sharing arrangements among them. Recent protests suggest that trust in the old system of distributing power according to religious proportional representation is dwindling.

A more pressing question for both world leaders and Lebanese locals: How can any authority allow highly explosive material to be stored, unprotected, in a warehouse for years, leading it to blow up the homes of 300,000 people, killing at least 145 and wounding thousands more? (Overnight, Lebanese security forces used tear gas against protesters, who accused the government of negligence.)

MACRON SPELLS IT OUT: French President Emmanuel Macron delivered a stern warning along these lines to Lebanese leaders after landing in Beirut on Thursday, saying that other than emergency humanitarian aid, there would be no international money without sincere reform. Macron was the first world leader to visit Beirut after the explosion.

This is noteworthy: “Lebanon is facing political and economic crises and an urgent response to this is required,” Macron said. “If reforms are not made, Lebanon will continue to sink,” he added, referring to the energy sector, public tenders and corruption. Later in the day, Macron announced he will organize an international aid conference in the coming days to raise funds — but aid would go directly to NGOs and the people who need it, he said, implying it would circumvent the government in order to avoid corruption.

Deadline: “It’s time for responsibility in Lebanon,” Macron said at a press conference at the end of his visit. “We raised funds in the past, but we can only do it if the Lebanese authorities take their responsibilities to allow us to fully help Lebanon.” Macron gave the country’s leaders until the end of the month to begin a reset of the political system, reports Rym Momtaz from on the ground in Beirut — her must-read dispatch here.

IS LEBANON THE NEXT MIGRATION CRISIS? Hundreds of thousands are now homeless, and the country has the highest per-capita concentration of refugees in the world already — more than 1 million Syrians live in Lebanon. A question asked by some of the few officials at work in Brussels over the past couple of days is whether this might turn into a migration issue for the EU, Jacopo Barigazzi writes in to report.

Reality check: “The country was already facing an economic, social and political crisis and it is likely this situation will result in increased tensions between host communities and refugees — and make refugees more vulnerable,” Camille Le Coz, policy analyst at the Migration Policy Institute told Playbook. But “so far, no information indicates that more refugees will decide to head to Europe — and it is likely that most of them cannot afford the journey,” she said.

Corona makes it all more difficult: For the local population, “as a result of the economic crisis, a number of Lebanese have tried to move to Europe,” said Le Coz. But even before the explosion, reports indicate that even those who have European passports face increased difficulties — because of border closures, and because a Lebanese banking crisis and restrictions on cash withdrawals have made it hard to access savings.

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