#suture skills

[anicehomicidaltree]

“Nadel und Faden” (or Needle and Stitch for you english speakers) is such a Mind coded song

German:

English:

#I haven’t listened to the english version bc I think I would cringe my eyes out like with every dubbed german thing #but fr this is a mind song to me #like he’s blaming the kid for their lack of motor skills but their literally just a kid #basically if u haven’t heard it (I don’t blame u) it’s about an adult bringing way too serious equipment for something minor #like a child gets a scrape and the first thing they suggest is stitches #and then blaming them for not being able to do their own sutures #this may come across as me infantalizing heart but i think this is just how mind acts not just to heart #he panics in serious situations and goes to the most dramatic solution like the “I’ll cut you loose” line and all that #just like how needles and stitches are unfit for a simple scrape; killing your emotions is not the correct way to deal with depression #anyways I just bought harvey’s new eyes on switch and I’m real excited to play it :]]]]]]]]] #chonny jash #cccc #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cj mind #harveys neue augen #harveys new eyes #edna and harvey #edna bricht aus #tree mumblings

[abyshal]

dumb little useless headcanon i thought of a few days ago: ajax is very talented with sewing. since his family had fallen on hard times but were detemined to try and continue to appear as though they had wealth, clothing mending was done mainly by their own hands... which, with ajax basically raising his siblings, means he also had to mend their clothing as well. he learned through trial and error the best ways to sew tears back together in the most inconspicous ways possible, so that there were no tell tale signs of wear and tear that childrens clothing normally goes through. and since ajax has kinda, in a way, a determination to be the best at everything he does (this includes mundane chores like this) he practiced as much as possible with scrap and embroidery projects left abandoned. he doesn't need this skill anymore in a practical sense, since with the income he makes as a harbinger he's able to afford tailors and new clothing for his siblings, but, this talent translated very easily into being a soldier. with deep gashes and wounds, all ajax's underlings know exactly who to go to to minimize most of the scarring and the best sutures. when ajax's own clothing tears, he still mends them instead of taking funds from his family. he does consider this to be a life skill everyone should have so he actually does make his siblings also learn how to sew on a basic level, as well as encourages his underlings to learn as well.

#extra bonus fun fact: he does sew his siblings initials in all of their new clothing #as well as helps with tailoring if his siblings are embarrassed or smth #like he helps tonia with measurements for the tailor #and has a great skill for keeping teucer still when there's pins in his clothing etc etc etc #cw needle #just in case! #my muses always have to have a hobby of mine i stg #(mine is cross stitching but still) #cw stitches #cw sutures #headcanon .

[ollie-alooffloof]

drop doodle requests in my asks <3

i don’t have enough brain left at the end of the day to think of things to draw, but I need to draw something to stay sane ~~

Here are some things I unexplainably enjoy/want to draw:

- Trollhunters

- Community (NBC show)

- Green Eggs and Ham

- Gravity Falls

- Sofia the First, but only Cedric?? only Cedric

- Puss in Boots

- Jurassic Park, The Mummy, Ghostbusters, Back to the Future, Spider-Man 

#getting judged on my cat spay technique and suture skills and cow halter and milk sampling techniques on Friday #I also have test on Friday and two tests next week #and another quiz due on the weekend #send help #send requests #art requests #please #fanart #trollhunters #communitynbc #gravity falls #cedric sofia the first

[mariekavanagh]

Tense surgery in progress.

#veterinary nursing #my suturing skills are very much in their infancy #but it is very satisfying

[cryptotheism]

The "potion-crafter" archetype of alchemist used in fantasy is often, like, an independent chemist that works off commission or sales to create fireball elixirs or exorcism salves. Is there a grain of truth, there? Did alchemists in any period you studied make a living by synthesizing magical items (like panaceas or DIY-chrysopoeia-kits or somesuch) and selling them on to any willing customer, or was that not really in their domain?

Ha! You know sometimes it can be a bit annoying answering asks like this, because most fantasy media isn t terribly interested in authentically representing history, BUT THIS TIME I can give y'all a specific and direct answer!

The archetype of the potion-crafter you're talking about almost definitely has its roots in an actual pre-paracelcian european medical profession; the Apothecary.

There were three types of doctors in the 1500s. There were diagnosticians, the people who went to school to learn about anatomy, and were allowed to call themselves "doctor." There were surgeons, the low-skilled workers who were in charge of hacking off limbs and draining bedpans. And there were apothecaries, basically the medieval equivalent of a pharmacist.

If you were a wealthy merchant, and you went to a doctor for your runny nose, he would look you over, and give you a prescription that you were supposed to take down to your local apothecary, so you could buy a potion from them.

But these prescriptions weren't exactly strict. A doctor might prescribe you an exact list of ingredients with the amounts, or he might just prescribe you "a healing ungent of cooling and drying herbs." So the apothecaries occasionally had some wiggle room based on supplies and expertise.

The important thing to remember, is that apothecaries were NOT considered magicians or alchemists.

That is, until Paracelsus came along.

See, good ol' Paracelsus was a radical innovator. He was one of the first physicians in history to be all three types of doctor at once. He was a diagnostician, a surgeon, and an apothecary. He argued that all doctors should have knowledge of their entire profession, and that no doctor was above suturing their patients wounds, and mixing their patients medicines.

He was also, crucially, an alchemist and a magician.

Alchemy was the cutting edge of technology for the time, a practice regarded with equal parts awe and suspicion, but it was more the realm of glassblowers and metallurgists than doctors or botanists. Paracelsus disagreed. He argued that if it's part of God's creation, it should be used to heal the human body.

This extended to magic. Paracelsus figured that you had to factor in things like "the movement of the planets and their influence on the earth." And he was known for prescribing patients things like "astral talismans to be worn about the neck." A practice that, even for his time, was often seen as backwards and superstitious. (Although given how harmful medieval medicine was, the astral talismans might have been your best option sometimes.)

Paracelsus was a radical. People fucking hated him, especially when he was alive. But his ideas were extremely influential, and exploded in popularity after his death in 1541. I can confidently say that the fantasy archetype of the Potion Brewer is based on Paracelcian physicians, the doctor/alchemist/apothecary/magicians who followed his theories.

Here I'll link my Patreon if y'all wanna support my research! I have a whole section on Paracelsus.

#occult #alchemy #paracelsus

[augustinewrites]

does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭

“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can. 

“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before. 

“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.

“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place. 

“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.

“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”

“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.” 

with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head. 

“satoru, please don’t freak out—”

he freaks out. 

he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”

you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”

“what grade curse was it?”

“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”

“you’re only grade one. why would they—”

“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”

“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.” 

“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”

“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”

“well when you come home hurt, yeah!” 

he regrets it as soon as he says it. 

and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“hey…”

he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.

_____

freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.

“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.” 

“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket. 

he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him. 

“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.” 

(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)

“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”

wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat. 

“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.” 

“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”

“ah. about that….”

_____

“alright, dinner’s served!”

you the kids exchange a look.

megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”

“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”

“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.

tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.

“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”

“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk angst #keeping up with the fushigojos #keeping up with the fushigojos: extended cut!

[semtrainers]

With the Trainer for wound care and bandaging techniques for trainee nurses and doctors, students learn how to care correctly for their patients’ wounds and can practice a wide range of dressing and bandaging techniques. By training, the subsequent care of real patients can be markedly improved and hygiene standards and protocols can be respected.

#suturing and bandaging Medical Simulators Clinical Skills Trainers

[soaqrudyz]

i am of the firm belief that neither ghost or gaz cared very much for soap when he first joined the 141

gaz had never met him before, all he knew was the guy was just a little bit of a prick. he was incredibly talented, gaz would give him that, and he’d never been outwardly rude to anyone that gaz had heard of, but oftentimes his confidence bled into something just short of arrogance, soap always seemed to be the one ranting and raving about his achievements when everyone else spoke of their mistakes. in layman’s terms: he was full of himself in a way that would surely get him killed.

ghost; however, had met him before. they’d worked together some three times before price recruited soap. ghost knew of his skill, knew that sunny disposition got quieter at night when soap thought he was alone, knew soap would thrive with them; but god, if ghost could shove his thumbs into those all-seeing, all-knowing crystal eyes he’d do so in a heartbeat. he hated the way they seemed to burn straight through the heavy material of his mask, how they could look into his own eyes and hold infinite knowledge of his broken psyche by the time they flick to some other uninteresting member of his former squadron. it was horror, to be understood so wholly.

but then gaz got hurt, four days of medically induced coma hurt, and when he jerked awake at, if the clock on the shitty hospital tv was to be believed, 2 in the morning there was soap. he looked disheveled: hair a tangled mess, dark circles only worsened by the shadows of the mostly unlit room, and covered in scattered butterfly sutures. his head was leaned on his bicep, slumped over the lowered tray connected to gaz’s bed.

under his head were the blood and tear stained pages of his open journal, a gorgeous portrait of gaz sketched onto the yellowed sheets with sleep deprived rantings in the margins on how soap could have saved him if he’d just been quicker. gaz slips it out from under him, only feeling a tiny bit like an ass for flipping through the leather bound soul of his comrade, but soap had stolen his favorite shirt so it stood to reason he should take something back. the entire 141 is scribbled on in the pages, buried between bomb schematics and scenic landscapes and soap’s scrawled insecurities. something shifts as he soaks in the words, months of feeling like an outsider and desperate tries to be as good as his teammates.

it’s different, gaz thinks as he flips back to his own face, being in the mind of john mactavish.

but then ghost is walking past price’s office and soap bursts out, pushing past him with flushed cheeks and hurried apologies, practically sprinting in the direction of his shared room. ghost, loathe to admit it, was worried, afraid that the first real human connection aside from garrick he’d had in years was going to ripped from him before he’d even started putting time into it. he didn’t want to lose something good, not again, so he follows him, rushes to catch him before he slams the door in ghost’s face.

soap’s shoving clothes into his duffle when ghost slips inside his room, noticeably holding back tears as he rambles to himself. for a minute ghost is stuck, unused to such blatantly shown emotion, but then he takes a step, sets a gentle hand on soap’s shoulder and asks what’s going on, heart thudding against his ribcage.

“my ma..” soap croakes, and heavy sobs break up whatever else he was going to say. he doesn’t have to, ghost knows, probably better than anyone else.he does the first thing that comes to mind: he drags soap into his chest, wraps his whole body around him like he can protect soap from the hurt. the sergeant doesn’t deserve to feel that hollowness in his chest. soap crashes into him like a wave to the shore, balling his hands into ghost’s hoodie and hiding his face in ghost’s collarbones. ghost had never been one for physical closeness, but there was something different about being in johnny’s arms.

there was an obvious difference in their demeanor toward him in the weeks to come, but neither really cared about how it happened, just that it did, and now they can seek each other’s warm, pink tinted gaze when soap makes a fool of himself.

#im gonna be sick #mmm big men with emotional issues learning how to be in love mmmm #call of duty #cod #cod modern warfare #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon riley #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #ghost cod #soapghost #ghostsoap #soapgaz #ghostgaz #gazghoap #soap x ghost x gaz

[celestialwhoree]

whilst I'm hyperfixating on dolls, thinking about protective childhood best friend Gaz💕🎀

His feelings had started off strictly platonic, protective over the quiet girl next door, who barely spoke up in class, and was generally an outcast due to her being perceived as 'weird' for enjoying picking flowers as to playing sports, and trawling antique shops instead of partying.

As you'd grown up alongside each other, that sentiment had only strengthened. He still so vividly remembers the day he came home to you sat on his porch step, a broken doll, a Blythe that you'd spent hours customising with such love, broken to bits. He'd obviously done the rational thing - spent weeks working in his dad's garage to fix her up, getting his mum to help him sew her teeny tiny dress back up, even asking around the pharmacy for if they sold 'those stick on eyelashes', to the amusement of most of the Boots staff.

To this day, he credits your prompting, and his mums patience for his emergency suturing skills. And Blythe, of course.

He's since made a habit of contributing to your collection, somehow acquiring originals from the seventies still in their boxes, or buying customs that you're sure sell for copious amounts of money. He wasn't there to protect you and your precious doll once, so he'll be sure to make up for it every day since. There's no weirdness about it either. To him, it's cute.

However, when you'd started dating...

Of course, he still had no problem with the collection of little you's on various shelves throughout the house. Save for the bedroom Blythe, lingering on the dresser like some freaky, big headed little guardian angel, who he's convinced is sending him bad juju every time he tries to get nasty with you. Her creator. Mary Shelley type shit.

It becomes second nature for him to turn her around as soon as the two of you go stumbling into the bedroom.

And he begs you to put her in the closet when you go to sleep.

Turns out your SAS boyfriend who's been supporting your collection for years is fucking scared of dolls.

Kyle 'gaz' 'bad Blythe bruja' Garrick

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #tf 141 #cod #call of duty #cod modern warfare #modern warfare #modern warefare ii #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #Kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x y/n #gaz x you #gaz mw2 #kyle garrick x you #kyle garrick cod #kyle garrick imagine #sergeant kyle gaz garrick #cod gaz #Kyle garrick x y/n #celestialwhoree #angies asks!

[zombiedumbie]

heart-shaped box

hi everybody! i'm back with posting stuff. i finished my final paper (i still need to make a presentation, but that's the easy part), this paper made me tired of writing, so I didn't post this before, sorry! and i'm having quite a week lol (just for example, one of the things that happened to me was that i had my scalp sutured!)

~1.2k words

from this post. a lots of fluff, A LOT, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF. no use of pronouns. organs (heart). mentions of Law's backstory and light novel.

Hey, Cora…

Law's slender fingers hovered over your chest with the same delicacy he would use to sheath the blade of his own sword with the thin blue layer of his ability. He kept it at a reasonable distance, as if trying to sense the vibration of your pulsating heart in the air. The only thing breaking the silence in the room was his breath, but your heartbeats raced into your eardrums, making the place sound louder than it should.

Both of you sat cross-legged, facing each other in a room separate from the rest of the… guests.

Law wanted it to be just you and him, no one else. You were outlaws, without the right to a traditional marriage, whatever was traditional for both of you; that's why he wanted to do it still in Wano, away from the eyes of the world.

The marriage that usually involved you, your partner, the Government, and God would this time be confined between the two of you. But you insisted; after all, you wanted to share this joy with your friends, and with Wano closed, there weren't many risks of this information leaking.

"Don't you think this happiness should be just between you and me?" Law lifted his hat and scratched his head, looking seriously at you.

"Don't you think we'll have other kinds of happiness that will be just between us?" With your response, he only hid his eyes behind the brim of his hat.

Law must have been worried about the possibility of the Straw Hat crew showing up and ruining everything. In the end, he agreed, but on the condition that the two of you had this moment alone.

You took his wrist with both hands and pulled his hand towards you, your fingers touching the kimono while his palm rested on your chest with hesitation.

"Law…"

"Are you sure?" He murmured and lifted his eyes from your chest to your face; that golden gaze was unwavering, covered with a layer of uncertainty, though. His fingers trembled, perhaps out of insecurity or the weakness of removing his own heart.

You didn't say anything, just pulled him into a kiss; your thumb stroked just below his eyes, the skin warming under your digits with each second you kept your lips pressed together. That was a perfect confirmation for him. When you separated, you smiled at him and turned your back to Law.

"You already took yours", he laughed lightly.

"Not as if it's difficult to put it back", he replied, and you looked at him over your shoulder. "Room."

Law tilted you slightly down; his arm was around your torso, and his open hand was on the upper part of your chest to hold you. You embraced his arm and took a deep breath, letting your body relax. "Are you ready?" He asked, the phalanges of his fingers stroking your back calmly; you nodded and closed your eyes.

"Mes", he whispered and tapped the bottom of his hand on your back, on the left side. You felt your body weaken before the light blue box fell from your chest; he was skillful in catching your heart with the hand that was on your back.

You gasped for air; Law sat you upright as your body adjusted. That, in the hands of your fiancé, beating faintly, was your heart, out of your chest, right in front of you. The idea was so absurd that you would refuse to believe it if you didn't know about Law's powers and hadn't seen them before.

You lowered your kimono and felt your chest; there was now an empty, square space, open; you felt like you could pass your hand through it, but you didn't want to test it due to the nauseating sensation of just feeling the hole.

"Are you okay?" He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, his eyes once again staring at you with the same rigidity; your gaze fell to your heart in his hand. You just nodded.

Law nodded too and placed your heart on the small table next to you, right next to his, on top of a cloth. You sighed, watching the two hearts beating at different rhythms, slightly different in size, but still, two hearts.

They were fragile but valuable, pumping the blood that magically flowed through your veins, even outside your bodies; it was even a bit mesmerizing to watch them, but Law didn't seem very surprised, after all, he had seen at least a hundred of them.

Law gently picked up his own heart, placing it in the palm of his hand. He turned it as if he found the best position, something you didn't think would matter, but he was a perfectionist, so you didn't bother saying anything. Your mouth went dry when you swallowed, and he approached, his eyes on yours again, looking for any sign of hesitation to stop immediately.

"Ready?" He asked in a whisper, and you were so excited that you just nodded.

The man took a breath and exhaled with deliberate slowness, his hands approaching your chest carefully. The small light blue box holding the heart fit so perfectly into the hole in your chest that you wondered if that wasn't yours; he stopped halfway, looking at you.

You responded with a smile, enough to remind him that this was as symbolic as exchanging rings and could be undone as easily; but you still accepted his idea without even asking questions, without asking for a ring or laughing at his idea—a smile enough to remind him that you understood all the symbolism and importance of this and that you accepted who he was, no matter what. With that, he finished pushing the box into your chest, closing the hole and restoring the skin as magically as it was removed.

The sensation was strange; it was like having two hearts in the same place. You could still feel your own heart pounding frantically, while you also felt Law's heart inside the chest, beating against your ribs, settling against your lung, beating as rapidly as yours, not in the same rhythm, but in the same frequency.

"T-This is… funny", you said with a smile, your hand on the place where Law's heart now resided.

With trembling hands, you held the organ ripped from you, beating rapidly against its confinement; the small light blue capsule was somewhat gelatinous and a bit smooth, seemed very malleable, but at the same time resistant.

"Relax", Law whispered to you, the corners of his lips curving upwards gently. "Let me help you", he asked, adjusting the small box in your hands, turning it, pointing to the left side. "These are your right atrium and pulmonary artery, they should be turned to your left, so they will fit correctly", he pointed as he spoke, and you just nodded.

With the tips of his fingers under your hand, he guided you to the hole in his chest, where the box fit perfectly. When you looked at him, he was smiling, not the same smile he gave when he was boasting or teasing someone, it was a genuine smile of happiness, one that you saw a few times but loved every time.

You felt like crying when you fitted the box containing your heart in the place that would reside for the rest of your life, where you lived for so long, in the core of the person you loved the most. When the skin covered the hole in, now, your husband's chest, you felt as if you were receiving the most intimate hug you had ever received—and could never receive again.

You hugged him, feeling the warmth of your tears warming your face; Law also cried silently, but unlike the tears of cold nights, there was a warm feeling in his chest, maybe from the new location of his heart, but the joy you felt was genuine.

His head rested on your shoulder, you felt his heart gradually calming down in your chest as he enveloped you in a warm hug, pulling you into his lap.

Law could still feel the cold of that night, how the snowstorm blurred his vision, the sound of the lines cutting the ground, how humid that chest was. He felt like he had spent all the years that followed trapped in that memory, walking through the forest, crying desperately while looking for the nearest town. However, in recent times, the snowstorm seemed weaker.

Until he reached the nearest town, right when Doflamingo finally hit the ground. When he found himself comfortable in the bed of a kind stranger, he finally understood the reasons for his savior. And when he drank that warm soup after years of hunger, his heart was finally at home, protected by your ribs.

"Law…" you whispered. "I love you."

Your now husband (husband!) put his hands on your shoulders and pulled away from you a little, so you could see his face; there was a smile so wide that his eyes closed, and you could only smile back at the sight. "I love you."

… I'm home.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #law one piece #one piece fanfic #law fanfic #law x reader #zombiedumbie writing

[ninthcurse]

med student boyfriend practicing scalpel skills on you. identical cuts done over and over and over as he tells you to hold still, gently scolding you when you flinch away from the blade. he's slow at first, unsure about the mechanics of your flesh under his blade, but it doesn't take him long before he's moving quickly. rapid strokes splitting your skin apart while your existence turns to white noise until he notices you're starting to look white from the blood loss. you're relieved when he puts the blade in the sharps bin only for him to tell you it's time for him to practice suturing

#ix #medfet #blood kink #violence kink

[mellowumbra]

~Beautiful edges~

An alpha!Abbywerewolf! x afab!omega!reader

SMUT SMIT SMUT MDNI

will have smut, like prolly gon be nasty need holy water smut. plot! slowish burn. alpha, only female alpha you've ever met. Smut is not under the cut but will be expressed!

⚠️ warnings: porn with plot!! dom!sub dynamic, breeding(r!receiving), vulgar words, VULGARITY, descriptions of genitalia, breeding kink, werewolfheat/rut! overstimulation (r!receiving) power and strength kink

Shummary: meeting an alpha was easy. Trying not to fall in love with one? Harder than it looks.

Here is to ALL YALL freaky sob's that just want to see Abby as a werewolf,,,, I love y'all so much

Also I'm SO SORRY THIS TOOK MY MONTHS FORGIVE ME

~~~~

Relocating to the WLF had taken some time to feel somewhat normal and you owed your life to them. You were accepted as one of them, when you were first alone and near death. Omega's in the wilderness alone was a death sentence, but you managed to make your life here wonderfully enjoyable. As close as normal got, it all flew straight out the window when you met Abby Anderson.

Was it strange to meet a female alpha with unbridled power, skill, and rage? Absolutely. Did she scare the ever loving shit out of you? Absolutely. But that didn't stop you from perking your ears to listen every time her name was mentioned.

Abby was a force of nature, she commanded respect without needing to utter a single word. Six feet of muscle and piercing blue eyes that glowed gold and opulent when her wolf appeared. Everyone in the WLF knew about Abby, and were either terrified, infatuated, or a little bit of both. She worked for Isaac, as she was trained and worked like a dog in combat. She led the most dangerous of patrols under Isaac, the man who allowed the WLF to keep you safe, who sent her out to do his worst work.

Being an unmated alpha made it even more..interesting...

As soon as her name entered your airspace, words passed around about the alpha's skills during her rut. You could not stop the onslaught of other companions dishing tidbits during these conversations. Hell you couldn't go anywhere in the past two weeks and not hear about Abby Anderson, the most "skilled" alpha in the entire WLF. You were even more curious to why a female inherited an alpha title. You wondered why you hadn't heard her name sooner, and you soon figured out why. Abby had been in a relationship, and a serious one at that. But, that was over, from what the other omegas in your rounds gossiped about. You were surprised to hear that Abby had been dating a male, a one of almost equal rank as her. Her most recent "pursuits" were women.

You rolled your eyes at Arya's gossip and finished suturing a deep abdomen wound from your most recent patient. The man smiled at you, thanking you for the dressings and ointment. "Hey y/n," Arya says, your other medical assistant and friend catches your attention.

"Yeah? Whatcha need," you ask, wiping down your med tray and discarding a dirty needle.

Arya then asks you if you need to stay longer or if you need to head out. You reply no, you've got nowhere to be. Arya quickly discards her medical garb and ducks out, the sun already set. You sigh and work on seeing if anyone other WLF member needs to be attended to.

Something overpowering and strange enters your sense just after. It makes you stop, startled by the sudden thick air. A strong scent, almost hypnotizing. Abby Anderson is sitting on the bed across from you, blue eyes fixed on your figure. You start, now taken aback at how she appeared almost soundlessly.

"Jesus Anderson you scared the shit out of me," you swore, walking over to inspect a large shoulder wound running from her shoulder to mid bicep. Her muscles glisten with sweat, a now failing stitch job visible against her skin. Her honey hair in a signature loose braid, freckles dotting her neck and shoulders, clad in a gray tank top that exposes her skin to the blistering sun. "Sorry, is' just a habit," she breathes, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Her smile is dizzying but wanton, skin too white. She's in pain.

"It's alright, what are we looking at huh? A mighty alpha needing some help?" You tease, lifting her arm to assess her shitty patch job. Abby hissing at the pain or the figurative jab, you weren't sure.

You smile quietly, adding in a few words of "Alright gimme a second, I can fix you up."

"Thank you y/n, if I tell Manny that his stitch job was shit he'd take it personally," she chuckles dryly to avoid the grimace of you cleaning her wound with alcohol.

The stench almost clears your nostrils of her overpowering scent, almost. With a steady hand, you begin to swiftly move a needle through her flesh. The skin gave way easy to the needle, signalling she must've avoided coming here for a few hours, at least.

"You avoided coming in here, at least since before dinner," you say brazenly.

Abby puffs a quick breath through her nose, unhappy with the answer you've settled on.

"Maybe I did."

You can feel her eyes on you, this whole time. She follows the movements of your fingers, you can hear her nose purposefully inhale quickly at least once, and your cheeks heat at the sudden interest she's taken in you. Her scent is making your mind do flips, alphaalphaalphaalpha repeating in your head by your unhelpful wolf. Your hands almost shaky by the end, Abby rolls her shoulder with the new bandage applied.

"Keep that one for at least the next 2 days, or until you've noticed its leaked through your bandage. Keep it as dry and clean as possible," you instruct.

Abby just flashes you a blinding smile. "You do a good job, I feel better already. Thanks doll," she flashes a wink at you, smirk in her eyes.

That wink makes your ears turn red, palms suddenly sweaty. You roll your eyes to act nonchalant, placing a narcotic in her hand.

"Take these no less than 12 hours apart with food, and I mean it Anderson, with food," you say, fingers brushing one another's as you close her fingers around the pills. A resounding shock zaps through your fingers as fast as lightning, snapping her head up at you. Her eyes flash red just as fast, replaced by their usual blue.

Your eyes are wide, hand zinging from some unseen energy. Abby thanks you silently with a nod, hands stuffed in her pockets, and rushes off.

-------

Ever since that day in the infirmary, Abby is never out of your sight. During inventory rounds with your other med students, led my Abby's surgeon father, Dr. Anderson. She's always just looming. Your friends start to ask questions when the blonde walks into the infirmary one day, looking as healthy as ever.

You stare curiously as catch her eye, when she throws another wink at you. All your other friends blush and try to look busy.

"You don't look in pain Anderson?" You question, raising an eyebrow.

"No," she chuckles, "but I do want to ask if you had any extra isopropyl alcohol on you? One of my buddies managed to get blood all over a cell, and we need a cleanup," she says, so casually.

You start, but manage to stutter out a response.

"Um y-yeah we have some but it's not here yet, I can bring it to you in an hour or so?" You question, to which she just nods and winks at you.

"Find me in the FOB on the first floor sugar!" She calls out, leaving you a blushing mess.

----

Some time later, alcohol in hand, you make your way to the FOB, when a sharp pain in your abdomen makes you lean against a wall in a back hallway. You shake your head, trying to clear your head as your wolf has taken over, screaming for help. Panic ensues. You know any willing male werewolf will hear you, and you sink into a corner.

Someone rounds the corner, and you can't see who it is as your vision is blurry with tears. You turn your head away to ease the embarrassment. The same overpowering scent you remember from two weeks ago invades your mind, and your wolf goes nuts. It's Abby, and she knows exactly what's happening.

SMUT I REPEAT SMUT

"I'm so sorry please don't come closer pleaseAbby," you beg through near tears, your heat blinding and painful. Quick breaths through your nose accompanied with full body shakes makes Abby growl lowly. She knew you needed to be claimed, the pain unbearable for her future mate to endure. A rumble in her throat makes you tilt your head towards the ceiling, breaths coming in faster. That growl is pure power, pure dominance. The fear in your heart of her power comes through your eyes and Abby realizes your fear, and it hurts. Your intoxicating scent fills her nose like a fog, your fight against a need to be taken care of slowly failing. Your heat and scent flies down to Abby's pelvis, unable to stop the whirlwind of arousal she feels.

"Hey, hey look at me," she commands, power still in her voice. She's knelt to your eye level. Don't be sorry baby. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise y/n, I promise. Please, let me take you somewhere safer," Abby begs. Alphas don't beg, they command. Her beg, plea has you staring in her eyes, desperate to believe her.

You pant, fear still swirling in your eyes. Abby just offers her hands, warm and calloused. After not saying anything, she slowly lifts you into her arms. Eyes lidded, mouth slightly parted, your heat addled brain screams at the feeling of power and protection. You can't help but inhale deeply at her scent, your core aching for more. Abby slips you into her room.

"Y/n, please," Abby begs. "I want to help you." Her eyes are a tinge of gold, showing her alpha side. She puts her forehead gently to yours. "I know you have feelings for me," she breathes. "But I won't do a thing unless you say it's okay."

Tears streaming down your cheeks, your eyes widen in surprise. You're lucid for just a second. "Oh god Abby, I-I don't know what to say," you groan, embarrassed. Your heat is blinding, a near total body and mind need to just be taken care of.

"I won't do anything you don't want baby," she cooes, her pet name undoing your resolve.

You take a deep breath and swallow, knowing that all you've wanted is for Abby to make you hers. And only hers.

"I want to be yours. I want to be only yours," you admit, cheeks darkening. "Please tell me you feel this as strongly as I do," you rush out, fully vulnerable.

Abby's turn to be wide eyed is short lived before she lands her lips on yours, desperate and hungry. "I want nothing more then to make you my mate. I- want- nothing more -than to fuck you into -this bed- for hours," she groans as you moan into her mouth. Her lips are warm, your arms reaching out to tangle in her blond hair. Your heat is begging, burning like a fire under your skin. You whine pitifully, Abby now fully aware of your need.

"I know darling, I know," she whispers. Abby lays you down on her bed, kissing you with a new ferocity that made you tug at her clothes. Feeling her strong abs run over your now bare chest made you bite her lip, a low growl coming from Abby's throat. Her mouth kisses down your neck and reaches the softness of your chest. With lips and tongue, she sucks your nipple between her teeth, licking it as it grows in need. Moaning at this was music to your alpha's ears. Your breasts are damp with spit and raised pink nipples fall in her mouth as she attends to one after the other.

She pulls your pants off, letting your heat racked body shiver at the sudden coolness. Her eyes flash a deep gold now, looking you over, a wanting moan leaving her lips.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to see you like this, how long I've been wanting to do this with you," she groans, the obvious bulge in her cargo pants making your mouth water and brain go fuzzy at her words. Her hands sink into your skin, pulling the flesh as she drags her hands down your stomach and over your thighs. Your cunt is wet, glazed over with slick and need. Pink lips swollen at the want of satiation. She kisses you, hand reaching down to palm you, gathering your wetness along her fingers. Your pants have turned into whimpers, into breathy moans.

"You're so wet for me, my precious mate," she cooes, dominance leaking through her words. "I wonder how wet you'll be when I sink my cock into your wanting pussy," you moan at her words, pulling off her pants. A small gasp leaves your lips as her member springs out of her boxers.

"That is a dick of an alpha for sure," you breathe out, hearing Abby chuckle darkly at your surprise. Its shaft covered in small veins, her pink head leaking precum at the sight of your naked body. Abby leans forward on her elbows, soaking up more of your slick on her cockhead, her kisses to your lips bruising. Your scent is making her drunk, the end goal of this mating lost. Ignoring her own desperation, Abby sinks below your waist and licks a long slow strip up your center, capturing your clit in her mouth to softly suck.

"I'm not fucking you stupid until your come all over my face, my pretty mate" Abby groans.

Her name leaves your lips in a yelp, unfettered moans follow. Her tongue is masterful, her lips covered in your shiny arousal. Up and down she moves her tongue, taking time to let herself tongue fuck you, dipping into your wetness. Latching onto your clit, she sucks soft pressure and swirls her tongue. With nothing to grab onto, you resign to tugging at your alpha's long blonde locks, legs high above your head, resting on her shoulders. The muscles in her back flex and stretch as she fucks you.

"Abby, o-o-oh fuck Abby baby pleaseplease alpha please," you moan and moan, dragging your hands through her hair.

At the mention of her title, Abby growls and picks up her pace. You feel the band in your belly tighten and snap within seconds as your orgasm washes over you in a blissful wave. Your toes curl and back arches off the bed, head thrown back in a long and loud moan. Abby continues to fuck your aching cunt into overstimulation, your legs shaking and breath uneven.

"Baby, baby I can't-can't take it anymore," you whine and moan. Abby doesn't stop but unlatches herself and slaps your pussy lightly with her palm.

"You're going to take what i give you angel, and you're gonna say thank you alpha," she hums and holds your jaw with her hand. "Okay baby?" She asks.

"Yes baby," you say softly, lips puffy as Abby captures them in a deep kiss.

"Thank you alpha," you admit shyly, peeking at her reaction through your lashes. Her breathing is ragged, hair undone and messy. Her eyes are a fierce gold, desire evident.

It didn't even take a minute before she slowly sinks herself into you, squelching sounds accompanied. Snapping up her head to you, she examines your features for any sign of pain. Your eyes are half open, lips parted in an O.

"Are you hurt?" She questions, stilling inside. You slowly shake your head, gripping her shoulders and wrapping your legs around her waist. With that, Abby slowly moves through your now sopping cunt. Her breath is short, focusing on not coming too early. You wrap around her like a vice.

"Fuck-fuck fuck baby you're so wet, so tight so warm you're so perfectfuck you are soperfect," Abby moans.

You moan at her praise, tangling your fingers in her hair, reveling in the closeness of your skin. Held up by her strong arms, the muscles in her biceps flex by your head.

"Hold on tight princes," Abby whispers into your ear, nipping at the skin.

Her thrusts start slow and languid, drawing out loud moans at each bury inside you. Your moans only get louder as her Hips snap back into yours at a near brutal pace, relishing in the wet sound of skin on skin. Abby examines your fucked out state of bouncing breasts, loud breathy moans and profanity.

"Fuck Abby fuck ABBY fuckfuckfuck my alpha fuck my alpha," you moan out, whining at the feeling of her cock stretching your walls to a beautiful feeling.

"Markmemarkmeplease baby breed me please baby please," you whine out, surprising Abby at your vulgar confession.

"Yeah baby? Fuck you'resofuckingwet, you take my cock so good baby you want my pups baby? Want me to breed you like a good puppy?" Abby moans, as the slap of wet skin fills the room.

"I bet you'd like me to breed you, huh baby?" Your fucked out smile gives her the answer she needs. "Yes abby please baby breed me please don't stop," you whine.

"Dirty girl, I knew you'd like that," Abby seethes as she bites your neck, sweat on her brow.

"You wanna be all round and fuckin full for me?"

"please Abby please baby yes yes yes!" you exhale a loud moan from your chest, as she leans forward to kiss you hungrily.

In a fast motion, she flips you on your belly, arching your back and pressing your cheek into the soft mattress. Your ass on display as she spreads you to see the slick drip down your thighs. You shake your ass slowly, all shame gone, wanting to be bred like a bitch in heat.

Her hands find your hips again, fucking into your cunt immediately like the world was ending. Muffled moans and screams come from your lips, Abby moaning at your soaking pussy sucking her in and milking her cock for all it was worth. Listening to your moans go up in pitch and your cunt get tighter and tighter told Abby you were so close to coming.

"You'gon come for me baby? Come all over my cock baby, c'mon you can do it. Cream all over my cock my good puppy," she rushes out, hands pulling you back to bounce on her dick.

"Fuck-ff-fuckfuck Abby I'm gon come 'my god I'm gonna come," your legs shake and let your orgasm push Abby into hers. Abby grabs your stretched out hand and squeezes it, to ground you. White hot pleasure consumes you and the heartbeat between your legs races.

You yell her name and moan a loud FUCK, drool sticking to the side of your cheek.

But abby wasn't done yet, your pleasure just comes first.

Abby's groans grow higher and higher, as your pussy pulses around her. As she feels you completely tighten around her, Abby's orgasm explodes. She feels her cock swell and a euphoric feeling washes over at the feeling of her breeding you completely full.

"Fuck baby, fuck baby ohgod," Abby moans as she collapses against your sweat drenched skin. You moan back weakly, shivering at her slow kisses up your back.

"You're so beautiful baby, gonna be so beautiful for me," Abby whispers, pulling out slowly to your disappointment.

"Fuck princess look at you," the alpha groaned, skilled fingers pulling your puffy pink lips apart to watch her cum drip out of your overstimulated pussy. You whine again, sensitive to her touch.

She coos, kissing the swell of your ass cheek.

"Come here princess let me hold you," Abby coaxes, slowing moving your body to lay between her legs. She softly kneads your back as you lay, breathing in her scent. Soft kisses to your forehead manage to lull you into a dreamlike state.

"Rest my precious mate, I've got you baby," Abby breathes, wrapping her strong arms around your figure.

Maybe falling in love with an alpha isn't hard after all.

#the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #mel's musings #abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #tlou abby #abby x reader #abbyasawerewolf #this woman #makes me question my life #I want a werewolf girlfriend

[klausysworld]

hiii, hope you’re doing well :D

Would you be down to write a piece where Klaus is married to a human doctor or nurse and every time he comes back after a fight and is wounded, reader patches him up. And Klaus is like u know I heal. And she’s like shut up and sit. Klaus smirks and obeys as he secretly loves getting tended to by wifey.

Healing Hands

I worried for Klaus daily and nightly. Whether he was immortal or not, pain is pain.

Watching him stumble through the front door bloodied and bruised always made my heart drop. He was careless with himself, if they didn't have the white-oak stake then he didn't worry. He often reminded me that he wouldn't die even if they tore his heart out or burnt him alive.

To be honest that didn't help my fears at all.

I would always look after him after he was injured. Whether it was a couple scrapes here and there or if it was something much, much worse.

For instance, today was simply awful.

Klaus had been missing for nearly three full days when Elijah and Rebekah came in through the door, holding him up. I rushed down the stairs and helped him back up them. Once we got him onto his bed I got my bag out which was essentially a very big first aid kit with a couple extra items, like my surgical string and curved suture needles.

I looked up to find Klaus looked back at me with a small smile on his blood stained lips.

"I'm okay" he whispered raspily.

"No...you're not" I told him and he sighed softly as I opened his blood soaked shirt to expose the very slowly healing stab wounds that carved deep into his abdomen and chest.

"I just need some blood, I'll heal in seconds" he mumbled

"Then I'll put you on a blood drip" I remarked while gently running antiseptic wipes over his wounds, trying not to let his wincing bother me.

"Love-"

"Just be quiet Nik" I whispered "Just let me help"

"okay" he murmured softly, giving in rather quickly which was more and more common recently. I gave a small smile back to him before continuing to carefully stitch him up where he should need it.

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

(switch to 3rd person)

He kept still, his eyes closing as he felt her healing hands caress him better.

Klaus would never admit how much he secretly enjoyed her tending to him. It always reminded him of how much she loved him. No matter what was wrong, she was right there with bandages and wipes to help sooth his hurt.

Usually it was accompanied by a warm bath afterwards, her bare body against his while she traced the places where wounds once were. She would proceed to kiss each spot and then, at last, his lips. Then he would thank her quietly to which she would simply dismiss and once more tell him to be quiet so she could 'treat' him in another way.

By the time they're out of the water, they're probably dirtier than when they got in but neither one of them could care once they were curled up together again.

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

(Back to 1st)

I had my head on his chest, tilted back to gaze up at him. My fingertips danced patterns across his broad chest while his brushes against my scalp.

The room was dark, the curtains closed and door locked. A comfortable silence had been around us for a good while now, our love for one-another always lingered in the air and both our eyes seemed to grow tired as we looked deep into each other.

His rough yet quiet voice broke the quiet but I didn't mind.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long" he whispered and I smiled softly.

"It wasn't you fault...I'm sorry I wasn't much use in finding you" I always felt a little helpless when it came to saving people. Being a human my skills weren't ever helpful. I tried of course but I would never be as strong or intelligent as those who have lived for centuries.

"I never want you to spend restless nights looking for me. You must know by now that I will always come back to you alive, and you will always be here waiting I hope." His hand stroked the skin of my face making my lashes flutter as I nodded

"I'll always be here, I'll always look after you" I promised. I feel his forehead press to mine, the soft curls of top his head which have grown a little long tickle my face gently.

"And I you sweetheart" he smiled and so did I

"I love you Niklaus" I whispered quietly, kissing his cheek gently

"I love you more, my little nurse"

(Sorry this is so short)

#the originals #the vampire diaries #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaleson imagine #rebekah mikaelson #the vampire diares imagine #niklaus imagines #nurse!reader #soft!klaus mikaelson #tvd klaus #elijah mikaelson #klaus m #klaus mikaelson x y/n #kol mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #klaus michaelson #tvd universe #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson headcanon #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson yandere #klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikaelson x yn #klaus mikealson x reader #tvdu fluff #tvd fluff #fluffy klaus

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings. This chapter contains medical trauma in an emergency room, as well as pregnancy loss.

I was going to do my usual thing and post this tomorrow, but i felt too bad making yall wait so you get a one-two punch of pain today (on the bright side, and i promise this, things start to go uphill from here, if you could believe it <3)

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 16

[Prev] [Next]

The darkened operating theater’s focused silence was sharply interrupted with the sound of ringing coming from the phone tucked away in the circulating nurse’s back pocket.  It was very obviously from Law’s phone, but the entire surgical crew kept their heads lowered and honed in on their work.  It was quite difficult to break your stride when someone’s body was cut completely open and their beating heart was framed by a metal cage keeping the layers of fat and muscle from closing.  The nurse was checking oxygen levels of the patient and simply let the phone continue to ring.  No one said a word.

The ringing stopped.

Then it started again.

“Just let it go,” Law mumbled.  He couldn’t be bothered, not when he was quite literally inside someone’s heart.  A mitral valve replacement required just as much care as any other open heart procedure, despite being a relatively easy operation for his skilled hands.

The ringing stopped.  The nurse stepped away from the monitor and made a circle around the team, checking instruments, patient vitals, and needed materials.

Then the ringing started again.  This time, a few glances were tossed around the room by the attending surgeons and nurses, but Law kept his head down, neck-deep in his work.  The nurse pulled the phone out of her back pocket and assessed the screen.  Your photo and name were displayed.

“Doctor, it’s your wife,” she announced.

“End the call and text her that I’ll get back to her when I can.”

Following his instructions precisely, the nurse tapped the red End Call button, opened her doctor’s phone with his passcode from their previous go at this very situation, and navigated to his text messages, pulling up your conversation.  She had to suppress a smile at the photo that was set for your contact- a photo of you and what she assumed to be your dog, both grinning brightly at the camera.  She began to text.

Hi, this is Doctor Trafalgar’s circulating nurse again!  He’s currently in the middle of an operation but he’ll call you back when he’s done!

She was about to put the device back in her pocket when it buzzed with another incoming text message.

Wifey

This is Law’s friend Shachi.  Idk operating room etiquette but his wife was taken to the emergency room from her job, im here with her and another friend.  Can you relay the message somehow?  Thanks.

The unsuspecting nurse felt her heartbeat grow anxious.  She herself didn’t really know how to properly announce that information to her supervising doctor, let alone the entire room of fellow technicians and nurses surrounding a patient with his chest fully exposed and heart cut open.

“Everything good?” the tired voice of the lead doctor called from his position, slightly hunched over the body under the bright lights and protective sheet.  He had stepped back only mere centimeters to let an attending nurse go in with sutures.

“Uhm…” the circulating nurse felt her palms grow sweaty beneath her blue medical gloves.  “It was one of your friends, your wife is in the emergency room, apparently.”

Law felt his blood run cold.  His head shot upward to look at the poor nurse who was now unfortunately involved in this, staring at her with wide, golden eyes below his magnifying hood.  He must have looked profoundly stupid partnered with his surgical mask and bright blue hair net.  “What did he say?”

“That was it, he just said to call him back as soon as he could,” she responded nervously.

“Doctor, the surgery’s almost completed if you–” one of his technicians began before being interrupted by the doctor.

“No, I’ll never leave the operating room until the procedure is finished.  Don’t worry about me, continue your focus on the patient.”  But for the first time in Law’s entire professional life, his focus was everywhere but the patient.  Why were you in the emergency room?  Why were you taken from work?  What in the world had happened?

Were you having another miscarriage?

No matter how hard he tried, he could not bring his focus back to the unconscious patient on the table in front of him.  He felt like a ghost out of his own body, merely observing his rigid frame standing amongst his colleagues, frozen in time and place, glued to the cold tiled floor.  Petrified.  Chills were creeping up and down his vertebrae, spreading out to the very tips of his fingers, making him wish he could run.  Run as fast as he could, run to the next building to where the emergency department was and run through every room to find you.  He needed to find you.

The surgery could not have ended sooner.  As soon as he was given the clear that the patient was in the recovery ward, he was sprinting with all of his might through the halls of the cardiac ward, out through the lobby, and into the bright summer sun that seemed to be mocking him in his frantic state.  His lab coat trailed behind him and passing nurses and patients jumped out of his way as he barreled down the bright sidewalk of the hospital complex, passing small bundles of blooming flowers that almost shook with how fast his feet were carrying him.  He felt like his heart might evacuate from his chest, or that he would surely lose his lunch with the stress of the unknown.

He rounded a corner and entered the emergency wing through a back entrance using his ID, sprinting to the nearest nurse’s desk barely catching his breath.  The young woman behind the counter, caught off guard by his sudden burst into the space, was staring at the man with wide, blue eyes, her fingers frozen mid-typing on her mechanical keyboard.

“T… Trafalgar.  Where,” was all he was able to gasp out as he clung to the counter catching his breath.  He never was much of an athlete.

The young nurse hurriedly picked through the screen of her computer monitor.  “Room 114.”

“Thank you,” he wheezed as he pushed himself off again, this time speed walking through the large corridors of the emergency room, not wanting to cause an issue with the attending doctors.  He passed by empty gurneys and folded wheelchairs, idle medicine carts and nurses chatting with one another, another ordinary day for them.  Room 114 seemed so far away.

Finally, the number appeared on the wall to his right.  The door was wide open, multiple bodies hunched over the bed.  Shachi and Ikkaku bolted upright from their chairs, mouths open about to speak to Law, but he pushed past them and into the crowd of nurses.

Your wrists were strapped to both handles of the bed you occupied, your eyes squeezed shut and an oxygen mask was forcefully strapped to your face, so tight your skin was visibly pinching through the hard elastic straps.  The hose extending from the mask and into an on-board oxygen monitoring machine seemed so foreign on your beautiful face.  A few heart rate electrodes were placed on your chest, picking up a well above average heartbeat.  Your feet were weakly flailing under the covers as multiple nurses had their hands on you, assessing your blood pressure, your oxygen, hands on your abdomen, your legs, your breasts.

Law saw red.

“BACK THE FUCK UP,” he shouted, finally drawing attention to himself from the surrounding nurses.  Hospital etiquette could fuck off for all he cared.  His wife had her wrists bound.  “GET AWAY FROM HER.”

“Doctor, please,” a man from beside your bed rushed forward toward the cardiac surgeon, placing his hands on his shoulders.  “Please don’t yell-”

“Why the hell is she tied to the bed?!” he demanded, every fiber of his being forcing him to maintain at least some level of composure.  Behind him, Ikkaku grabbed Shachi’s wrist and dragged him out of the room, not wanting to put their friend under any more stress.

“She was thrashing in the ambulance, we needed to restrain her,” the male nurse explained, attempting to push Law back from your bed.

Law looked past the nurse’s shoulder and screamed once more.  “I SAID GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER.”

A much larger male nurse stood up from his place around your bed.  When he stepped aside, his legs revealed a bright red biohazard container on the ground, a mere glimpse of the pants you were wearing that morning peeking into Law’s field of view.  

“Doctor, calm down or I’m going to call security,” the bigger man threatened, stepping toward Law and giving his shoulders a firm shove backwards.  He was built less like your average nurse and more like a basketball power forward, and the force of his hands against Law’s shoulders sent the black-haired surgeon stumbling backward.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he seethed.  “What kind of nurse ties a patient to the bed when they’re panicking, huh?!  Is that what they’re teaching you ingrates?!  Tying a panicking woman to a bed to keep her still?!”

He forced his way past the larger nurse, much to the man’s discontent, and pushed through the other employees surrounding your bed.  His first action was to loosen the straps of the oxygen mask on your face, giving your skin room to breathe.  His deft hands ripped the velcro blood pressure cuff off of your bicep, tossing it back to a nurse who had stepped away, shocked by his actions.  The oxygen monitor on your finger was next, followed by the restraint on your left hand, which fell limp next to your body.  Your wedding ring was missing.

“Where’s the ring?” Law asked, forcing the blood oxygen monitor into the hands of the same nurse who took the cuff from him.

“What ring?” the basketball nurse asked, visibly angry with the doctor’s intrusion.

“The wedding ring on her left hand.  Where the hell is it?”

A very small, meek voice piped up from across your bed.  “It was removed in the ambulance because the paramedic was afraid she’d hurt herself with it.”

“Hurt herself, or hurt you?” snarled Law referring to the confused gaggle of nurses that had come into contact with his wife, already fed up with whatever excuses they were giving him.  If he was more rational, he could argue that they were simply doing their jobs, but even from his standpoint, what they were doing to you was clearly too much.  “I want every single one of you out of this room, and I want an attending doctor here immediately.  I need one of you to find that damn ring and bring it back to me.  Don’t make me ask twice.”

A few nurses took the opportunity to scramble from the room, visibly frazzled by the surgeon’s fit of rage.  The two male nurses from prior, however, stood their ground.

“You’re not in our department, doc, I’m afraid we can’t take orders from you.”  The larger nurse crossed his arms over his chest in defiance as Law stood between your body and the man.

“Then take my directions as the family member of a patient.  Get.  The hell.  Out.”  If Law were to see himself, he’d have absolutely no idea where this authoritative side of him came from.  He was never one for verbal or physical confrontation, more used to shutting down and bottling in his feelings than displaying them outright, and never would he ever think to get in the face of an extended colleague, but now was not the time for rational thought.

The first nurse to put his hands on Law placed a hand on the shoulder of his fellow nurse, pulling him toward the door.  The larger man finally relented and followed his coworker out into the hallway and around the corner out of sight.  Silence had finally settled over the room and Law rushed to the other side of your bed to unstrap your right wrist from the metal barrier.  Your heart rate on the monitor was slowly starting to even out, but was still maintaining a fairly erratic pace.  His new position allowed him to get a glimpse into the red biohazard container that was improperly placed next to your bed.  Your pants, the ones you had purchased when out with your friends a few weeks prior and that you were excited to finally wear to work, were completely soaked with bright red blood.  The rest of your clothing was in the bucket, specks of blood on your socks, and the lower portion of your flowy summer shirt.  He shoved the bucket out of the way with the ball of his shoe, forcing down the nausea that crawled up his throat.

He placed his hand on your forehead, leaning over you, his face contorted in an agony that mirrored your own.  

Your eyes slowly opened, your body completely spent and exhausted.  He barely wanted to know what kind of ambulance ride you had endured that had rendered your usually-energetic and upbeat form into a shell of your former self.  Your irises were filled with sorrow, and your eyes immediately began welling with tears at the sight of your husband standing above you.  You gasped into the oxygen mask, almost choking on the breath of cold, spicy air that flowed through the hose and forced its way into your body.  Law was quick to pull the mask off, breaking every form of protocol he was familiar with.  He knew his outburst and actions easily risked his integrity as a high profile surgeon, but as he took in the sight of you, completely burnt out, humiliated, scratched up from the binding on your wrists and straps from the mask on your face, he couldn’t find the time to care about his integrity anymore.

Finally free from the confines of the mask, you sucked in a shaky breath, heavy, salty tears flowing down your cheeks like a waterfall.  You weakly reached a hand up to his, and he took it in both of his warm, calloused ones, clenching you tightly, funneling all of his love into you.

“Law…” you tried to speak, but your voice came out more like a croak.  He felt his heart shatter, splintering into toxic pieces of fiberglass that ripped at his flesh, that stung the soul and pierced the very heart he gave to you.  Your lips were violently quivering as your body shook with suppressed sobs, not having any more energy to scream.  All you were able to do was mouth the words, ‘I’m sorry.”

Law’s resolve shattered.  Whatever was left of his pride, his dignity, his status as your strong, unmoving, supportive husband, was fractured.  He crumpled above you, his legs shaking as his head fell to your trembling chest, his hands that held your own remaining close to his own lungs as the tears he had wanted to cry for the past two years of trying for a baby finally escaped from his eyes.  He sniffled, snot rapidly pooling in his sinuses as a result of his tears, but he continued to hold your trembling hand in his as he bit his lip so hard it stung, the scorching hot tears leaving his eyes feeling like trails of magma down his skin.  The smell of hospital sheets did not belong on you.  

The world seemed to implode in on your weak form in the hospital bed, your husband’s defeated body hunched over your own.

A crackled, broken sob exited his lungs.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

[bbybrainrot]

Patch me up?

Plug! Connie x Bestfriend! Black Reader [MASTERLIST]

warnings- gang violence ( him and the boys jump a snitch), Connie gets hurt a lil ( he's fine girl)

Plug! Connie who did not think he was gonna be the one to get cut when they started jumping that snitching ass bitch that got Eren locked in the first place. Back in Eren’s Genesis G70, adrenaline wearing off, he started to feel the pain stretching across his back and immediately pulled his phone out. –

You on the other hand were chilling at home, off work, freshly moisturized, and blunt rolled. today was the day you caught up on that new show you’d been missing. I mean that was the plan till ur phone went off.

conman<3 : u still up? I need help wit smthn.

conman<3: ‘m on the way regardless.

yea i’m up. wtf do you need at this unholy hour?

conman<3: need to borrow those nursing skill of urs, yea?

the doors unlocked. Don’t bother knocking.

conman&lt;3: i got u

leave it up to that man to throw you tf off. He gave no details so all you could really do was wait, wash ur hands, and try to find the emergency med kit you packed from work. Just incase you told yourself, well just in case had come.

Plug! Connie who pushes open the door to your home like he lives there, taking off his shoes at the door cause he knows better. Quickly taking off his jacket cause the blood is soaking through his shirt and his BAPE is fucking real.

Plug! Connie who almost forgets the pain he feels at the sight of you, watching as you stand in ur bathroom doorway, looking at him with the most painful look he’s ever seen from you. When he can’t look any longer, he makes his way to the couch, settling, looking down at the floor.

Plug! Connie who tries not to flinch from the rage he can feel radiating off of you once ur behind him. But he ultimately relaxes once he feels your hands on his back, closing the wound with sutures and cleaning flecks of blood off his skin.

Plug! Connie who does flinch when you finally speak, What the hell happened tonight con? He looks up at you and gives the same answer he's always given. It’s better if you don’t know sweetheart. He says, and it’s full of pity but it’s true.

Plug! Connie who already knows how to get comfortable on ur couch and where ur blankets are. So you find him snuggled up underneath all yo shit when you come back with pain killers and tell him to sleep on his tummy tonight.

Plug! Connie who knew he’d have good dreams when you pet his head nd kissed him on his cheek goodnight. But once you were down the hall he heard you whisper ( with ur whole chest) thats disappointing , here i was thinkin he was finally gonna fuck me tonight, hmph

#plug!connie #black reader #connie x black reader #black y/n #aot #connie springer #connie x you #eren aot #claireblep

[howtofightwrite]

I'm trying to write a scene where someone is stitched up when there isn't a hospital around. They got a stomach cut and I'm wondering if you have to lay down for it or if you can do it sitting up?

The short answer is, having them lay down is probably for the best. When you sit up, the tissue around your abdomen tends to fold a bit, and that can make finding, and sewing up, wounds much harder.

However, having said that, gut wounds are notoriously messy, and sewing one up in a non-sterile environment is pretty risky. Granted having a gut wound in a non-sterile environment is a pretty risky situation.

Among the many things that can go wrong, perforation of the intestines can lead to septic shock, and death. Your intestines (and, really, a lot of your digestive system) are filled with symbiotic bacterial colonies. It is absolutely imperative that those bacterial colonies do not get out of your digestive system and into the rest of your body. You do, actually, need that bacteria to properly digest and process food, but, again, that bacteria getting into your stomach cavity is a very bad thing.

Similarly, a bacterial infection from the environment in that would likely prove fatal. Worth remembering that, bacterial infections can get started either from the wound itself, or the clothing pressed into the wound when it occurred, or it can occur from non-sterile dressings used to bandage the wound.

You didn't say it, but it almost sounds like this might be self administered. (This is one of the only realistic situations where you'd even try to suture the wound from a sitting position.) I'm going to phrase this carefully: That is theoretically possible. However, the amount of pain you would experience, combined with the amount of precision necessary for effective surgery, and you're talking about someone with a borderline superhuman pain threshold. I suppose it's possible if you had someone with fused nerve endings, they might be able to perform this task with minimal difficulty (not having a good angle on the wound would still be a problem), but that's a weird edge case, and I'm honestly not sure how that would shake out.

But, yeah, the short version would still be, they need to lay down, if at all possible, and the surgeon needs easy effective access to the wound. After that, this is an injury that can go very wrong depending on the available tools and the skills of the surgeon. Gut surgery isn't something you want an amateur doing, even in an emergency.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers #starke is not a real doctor