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shion-yu · 3 months

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Wait for Tomorrow

My entry for the spot “Hospital” for @hurtcomfort-bingo. 2,271 words, TW for hospital, chronic illness, discussion about potential death of a parent. Ft. OCs Cliff (toyhouse) and Al (toyhouse), plus their respective partners Elliot and Theo.

The organ transplant unit reeks of hope and loss. There’s always someone who has just received something new and life changing, a very tangible second chance which is only thanks to someone else’s great sacrifice. There’s a little room that always has coffee and snacks, a room for meditating, a little gym, and a room that’s just for crying in. A huge window stretches across the entire end of the unit looking over the city providing sprawling views of the outside world: a world that people like Cliff needs to stay away from because it’s full of germs that could kill him.

Cliff’s thirty-one. He hoped he’d have more time to delay this, but he’d contracted aspergillosis at Christmas, right before Mia’s third birthday. Instead of celebrating his happy and healthy little girl on her special day, Cliff had been unconscious in the ICU, intubated. He’s only gotten to see her in person twice since waking up and it’s March now. Kids aren’t usually allowed on the unit because of the risk of infection. The doctor had let them break that rule twice, and Cliff knows he should be more grateful for it but he isn’t. He wants more, always more.

He misses his daughter more than he can stand. Elliot visits nearly every day and calls at least twice per day. He sends Cliff plenty of videos but it isn’t the same as being there. He watches Mia say new words only second hand through recordings and he’s not there to clap for her as soon as it happens. He’s not there to read to her and kiss her pudgy little cheeks goodnight. He wants to be there for everything, but instead he’s stuck here in this negative-pressure hallway. It’s a beautiful new unit, nicer and sunnier than any Cliff's ever been on before, and yet it feels like a prison.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels the couch he’s sitting on dip and Al silently hands him a tissue. Cliff mumbles a thank you and removes his oxygen to blow his nose, coughing into the tissue afterwards.

“Ugh. I hate crying,” he sniffles to Al. Al pats his back to try and comfort him, but doesn’t tell him it will all be okay. They’re both realistic enough to know that’s not always the case.

“Me too,” Al says. “Hate getting snot in my oxygen.” He smiles knowingly with a humor that only someone experiencing the same thing as Cliff could really muster. Cliff laughs wetly, dries his eyes and puts his nasal cannula back in. He clears his throat and tries to remind himself that things could always be worse.

Al is waiting for his second set of lungs while Cliff waits for his first. Al got new lungs fifteen years ago, he says, which was a pretty good run of it. They’re not doing so well anymore, but he tells Cliff that he believes the medications are so much better these days. Al never had any kids, but Cliff can see that Al’s wistful about that fact. He acts almost like a father figure to Cliff while they’re stuck on this ward together, although age wise he’d be more like Cliff’s older brother. Cliff thinks it’s funny - when he was nineteen he did a summer internship with Al’s partner, Theo, at Theo’s law firm. He vaguely remembers seeing pictures of Al back then and Theo mentioning his partner was on the transplant list, but it hadn’t really meant anything to him at the time. He’d just said sorry and never thought about it again. He hadn’t known back then how privileged he was to have that mean nothing to him.

Theo recognized him when he came to visit Al, shortly after Cliff had left the ICU and was moved to this floor. Cliff was being pushed down the hall by Elliot when they heard a voice say, “Cliff Barrows?!” It was then that they made the connection that the new patient Al had made friends with was the same person Theo had once been a mentor to. Cliff mostly remembers Theo as unabashedly gay, something he didn’t think was possible for a lawyer at that time. He looks the same now, Cliff thinks, just a bit older and his hair’s starting to go gray.

Theo asked Cliff if he ever became a lawyer. Cliff laughed and said, “No, I got sick and became a stay at home dad instead.”

Theo grinned at him the same way he had back when he was a teenager. “A dad!” He exclaimed. “Even better than a lawyer.”

Being a dad was better than being a lawyer, Cliff thought to himself. Being a lawyer was his dream and losing it had been incredibly painful at the time. Now, though, he can see it made way for other things in his life. He got back together with Elliot, they got married, and they had their beautiful daughter. Cliff wouldn’t have it any other way - except for the part where he’s stuck here, now. There’s no silver lining to this part, he thinks.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Al asks him gently. He has a way of saying this that makes it easy to confess everything, but also easy to say no if Cliff wanted to. He’s so calming and impartial. Cliff thinks he feels far better after his chats with Al than he ever did after therapy.

“Mia is going to pre-school in the fall. Elliot’s out visiting a few right now to see which one fits her. Both of us should be there, but it’s only him.” Cliff’s voice breaks sadly at the end of the sentence and he can’t say anything more.

Al nods. “That must be really hard,” he says gently. “I’m sorry you can’t be there too. I’m sure Elliot will make a great choice though.”

“Oh, definitely,” Cliff says. “I know that. But it’s not fair that he has to do it alone.”

“I understand,” Al says. He doesn’t have kids, but Cliff thinks he’s probably the closest person to actually understanding so he nods.

They stay there a bit longer just watching the sunset until they know they have to be back in their rooms at 7pm-8pm for shift change. Cliff doesn’t see the point, because every nurse on the unit already knows them and their details intimately, but nevertheless they insist on bedside report every twelve hours. Sometimes Cliff pretends he’s sleeping just so they’ll do it in the hallway so he doesn't have to hear all the depressing details one more time. He feels like nothing ever really happens, anyways. Sometimes he has good days, sometimes bad. He doesn’t feel the need to summarize further. Either way, he’s been here for months and won’t be going anywhere until they find him a pair of new lungs.

The idea that some poor stranger has to die for him to live bothers Cliff immensely, but since he’s had Mia he no longer questions if it’s the right thing to do. It’s not that he’s no longer morally confused, he is. But he’ll do anything to see his little girl grow up now, his role as a husband and a father the most important things to him in the world.

When Mia was born, that was the first time Cliff was actually happy to be in the hospital. She was so tiny, Cliff asked if something was wrong with her. No, they told him, she was perfect. He agreed. She was absolutely perfect.

Fatherhood suited Cliff far more than he had expected it would, considering his own parents had never been good examples. But as the stay-at-home parent and a perfectionist, Cliff naturally made it his job to do everything right. And in the process, he found he loved every moment with Mia, even the difficult ones. He kept her close to him and was always hyper vigilant about her wellbeing. He read many, many books. And every afternoon he’d tie up Rosie, their rescue dog, to the stroller and take a slow walk down the street. While their home was located in a nice neighborhood in Brooklyn, Cliff didn’t think New York City pollution was very good for either his own or his child’s lungs. However the socialization was important (for both of them) and more importantly, he wanted Mia to grow up to love people. He never wanted her to hide away from society like he had. And he never wanted her to doubt that her fathers didn’t love her and wanted to spend time with her.

He’s nursing a bad headache in bed when Elliot calls him to say goodnight. Cliff answers because he always answers Elliot no matter what. Back when they were younger Elliot barely left Cliff’s side when he had to spend long stretches in the hospital, but with their daughter it had to be different. She’s their priority, not Cliff, and they had promised to give her as normal of an upbringing as possible. Even with a chronically ill dad and famous papa. They had been doing a pretty good job of it, Cliff thinks. Sure she’d spent a lot of her early childhood in recording studios and doctors offices thanks to her dads, but she was happy and loved. That’s what mattered. It’s still what matters, but it’s so much harder when she doesn’t understand why one of them is suddenly nearly missing from their home, only available through video calls each night.

Elliot’s face pops onto the screen of Cliff’s phone. His black curly hair looks long and messy. He has dark circles under his eyes and Cliff’s heart aches knowing it’s his fault that he has to be a single parent right now. Still, his tone is cheerful and he smiles when Cliff answers. Mia is sitting in her chair at the dinner table behind him. “Hey babe,” he says. “It’s all dark, do you have the lights off?”

“Yeah, hang on,” Cliff says. He reaches over to turn on the lights even though they’re way too bright for his aching head. He squints at his family and puts on his reading glasses.

“Headache?” Elliot asks automatically. They’ve been married - been dealing with Cliff’s illness - for way too long for him not to know exactly what to expect. Cliff nods. “Aww, that sucks,” Elliot says. “Here, Mia will make you feel better.”

Elliot moves around so that Mia is in full view and can see Cliff on the camera. Her face is messy with grains of rice stuck to her cheeks. Cliff chuckles. “Hi baby girl. Dinner’s kind of late, isn’t it?”

“Daddy!” Mia squeals happily. “Rice and chicken and peas.” Cliff assumes that’s what was on the menu for tonight. It’s what looks like is stuck to her hands, anyways.

“I got home late,” Elliot explains, “Haven’t even showered yet. God bless Paula.” Their nanny, always willing to stay later than planned when she needed to. She was brilliant, but Cliff felt sad every time he remembered she was doing the job he was supposed to be doing.

“Lion!”

“Yes, Mia, good girl,” Elliot says, poking the lion on her bib that she was wearing. She laughs. God Cliff misses that laugh. It sounds entirely different in person - in person it’s like he can feel it with his whole body. “Cliff? Hello? Anything new?”

Cliff realizes he’s been zoning out for several seconds and shakes his head. “No. Nothing new. Same old boring hospital.”

“Boring’s not a bad thing,” Elliot reminds him. Yeah, Cliff thinks. He could be in a coma still, that’s true. But he’d rather be at home fostering Mia’s newfound love for lions this week. They talk for a few more minutes but Cliff’s head hurts a lot and Elliot can tell, even though Cliff doesn’t say anything. He and Mia blow kisses to Cliff through the screen. Cliff closes his eyes and pretends he can feel them hugging him.

Elliot moves to the living room for a moment to ask Cliff privately, “Are you okay?”

“I just really miss you guys,” Cliff said. He takes a shaky breath. He doesn’t want to cry again.

“I know,” Elliot says. “We really miss you too. But we never know what might happen tomorrow! Or the next day.”

Cliff nods. He’s not an optimist like Elliot is, but he listens to his husband. It’s the only way he can continue on here when there’s so much waiting for him at home. “I love you,” Cliff says. “Thank you for everything.”

Elliot’s brow furrows in concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Why are you thanking me?”

“No special reason,” Cliff says, forcing a tired smile. “I just want you to know it.”

“Okay,” Elliot says slowly, a bit puzzled. “Well... thanks.”

“Don’t thank me for thanking you. Then I have to double thank you.”

Elliot laughs. Cliff’s relieved he took that worried expression off Elliot’s face. He doesn’t want to make Elliot worry about him more just because Cliff’s missing home while Elliot is working so hard to hold everything in their family together. “Goodnight, Cliffy. Go to sleep. I love you and so does Mia. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you too.” Cliff hangs up and he thinks about tomorrow. Another day of phone calls and the hospital and being far away from his family. He doesn’t know how long he can keep doing this, but he has no other choice. He’s never been so determined to stay alive. Mia’s growing up with two dads, not one, he tells himself. So he’ll keep waiting, forever if he has to.

#shionwrites #hurtcomfortbingo #oc: cliff #oc: elliot #oc: albert #oc: theo #hurt comfort #angst #hospital setting #whump #male whump #chronic illness whump #hospital whump #medical whump

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the-ace-with-spades · 4 months

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this feels almost a little stalkery to write, but i just realized you haven't posted anything in a while - i always enjoyed your posts in my feed. Hope you're doing well off-tumblr and wish you an awesome New Year! 🌟

Hi there and late Happy New Year to you (and anyone who reads this) 🎉✨

This is not stalkery at all - it's actually really nice...🥹

In short, the past two months ve been awful irl for me, winter pressure in nursing is horrendous and as someone who works in ED/neuro ICU I'm just too tired for much most days. My health's been shite since cluster headaches are back and my adhd/depression are all-time high, and there's been some other shite going on in my partner's family, I just don't have much energy for the online stuff

I pop here from time to time when I have a slower time (like rn) but don't do much, it's all just piling up in my inbox/drafts/etc and I'm incredibly sad (and feeling a bit guilty) b/c tumblr is my fav place online and fandom people are so dear to my lil heart 💔

Probably gonna make a longer ramble-y post about it all soon-ish, sort out some posts, etc since I'm finally starting to get back on my feet, I'm in the process of switching to EMT (got the job finally!) and also doing my ambo driver training which just makes the hours at work add up

I'll be back with my crappy posts, promise, and I'll get most of my shit in order, I just need a minute...

#Thank you for popping in my inbox anyway #it really warms my heart alright #sorry to anyone who's been expecting stuff from me 😔

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blackbird-brewster · 1 year

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Idk what to do. I can’t stay in this state. They haven’t passed any new anti-trans laws here yet, but it’ll happen soon. There’s also just so much trauma and shit here and it’s killing me slowly to stay, but I’m terrified to leave. All my family is here. My lost pets and loved ones are buried here. I know it’ll kill me to stay, but the fear of moving is just so big. The fear of what my family will say or think terrifies me.

Hello Anon,

First off, thank you for trusting me with your worries. You're absolutely not alone, I've actually been through this exact same thing. I'm going to put my reply behind a cut because it involves mental health stuff/homophobia/etc. <3

I want to share my story, because it might help you. Or at the very least, I want you to know you are in good company here. I understand completely. I spent about 90% of 2014-early 2016 in and out of psych wards, hospitals, and ICU. I lost someone very dear ot me at the end of 2013 and it was the catalyst for a complete psychotic break and then a subsequent series of horrific mental health crisises.

At the time, I was living in Texas (born and raised). My family is super conservative (I have since cut them all off), it's the American south, super conservative, and I had been out as queer since age 15. It was never a place that was safe for me. But it's where I ended up.

Due to my mental health, I lost my job, then my apartment, and I ended up being homeless. Which obviously didn't help the mental health issues. I lived in my car for over a year, everything I owned in the world fit in a tiny Chevy Aveo compact.

My circumstances, my location, everything -- (as you said) was killing me slowly. I attempted to take my own life multiple times because I just saw no other way out of my situation.

I knew if I stayed, I wouldn't survive. I knew if I stayed there, it was a death sentence. Like you, my family was there, my past loved ones were buried there (I've seen too many deaths in my life, so this was doubly true and important), my life was there. But it wasn't much of a life at all.

In early 2016, my car got repossed while Iw as out of town. I was very lucky that the repo company allowed me to collect my belongings (since it was literally the only things I owned, since I was still living in that car) So what was I to do when the car I lived in was gone? I had nothing, I had nowhere to go. That place was suffocating me day by day. I had met a woman on here and we'd been in a sort of long distance online relationship for a handful of months.

I decided there was absolutely nothing worth staying in Texas for. I ended up selling what little I had, clearing out my tiny bit of money, crowdfunded the rest -- and I bough a one-way ticket to Aotearoa. My flight was 10 days after I bought the ticket. I gave everyone in my life a 10 day notice that I was moving across the globe on a whim. My family scoffed, they thought it was stupid, told me I'd be back, told me just like everything in my life 'it was a phase', etc. But I did it any way.

And you know what, Anon? Eight years later, I'm a permenant resident here, I'm thriving, my life is so fulfilling and beautiful. While the woman I moved here for wasn't my forever, this country was. My current partner and I have been together for five years, and they are my forever.

I will NEVER regret buying that one-way ticket. It literally saved my life. My handful of friends in the US know that if I had stayed, I wouldn't be here today to tell you this story. It HURTS, god it hurts deep in my soul, to be so so so far away from those handful of people who will always be my best friends. It really hurts to know how many huge events I've missed because I live a world away, but at the same time, we all agree that it's much easier to long for each other than for them to mourn my death.

So I'm not sugar coating it, moving away from people you love is SO difficult, and you will miss them always. But (depending on where you move to) you can visit them, and if not in person, technology can connect you with one click. I talk to my friends every single day and we make it work. (I'll never go back to the US)

It's a VERY hard choice, but ultimately you need to ask yourself what's more important: your life or other people's opinions.

I hope you choose your life. Because the world needs you, Anon and it would be a dimmer place without you. Don't let your location hollow out your soul, don't let your location take your life, it's just not worth it. Move, relocate, start over in a safe environment. I am so very proud of you and I love you, I know you've got this. <3

#anon #reply post #about me 2k23 #mental health #life advice

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nurseswillburyyou · 11 months

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Haven’t posted in a while but I 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 need a place to vent about this away from my staff. Also, mega, mega trigger warnings for depression, suicide and…conspiracy I guess?

One of my staff members died by suicide in May. She’d been struggling with mental health issues, I’d been actively involved in getting her evaluations, taking her off the schedule, getting her on short term DBL, even called my psychiatrist to try and get her an earlier appointment (marginally successful, still a month wait). She seemed to be turning around, made the decision that ICU as a new grad on night shift with a variable schedule was not conducive to healing.

And then it happened. Sometimes it just hurts too much. I get it. It’s heartbreaking, it’s tragic, it’s worse because she was so young and bright and full of life. But depression is horrible and sometimes this is the only way out people can see.

Some of my staff can’t see that. The current rumor is that hubby killed her and that the FBI are involved. None of this is substantiated. None of this can be confirmed. I don’t even know where it’s stemming from (other than a place of pain and fear and grief). So all those of us familiar with mental illness only see discrediting of her pain and invalidation of her choice. I’m furious, sent essentially an “I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed” cease and desist email. I just have a lot of impotent rage right now and need to get it out of my head. Blech.

This on top of a year in which my father got cancer, a partner nearly ended up intubated with pneumonia and then was discharged into a world on fire, a major housing change and, of course, all the normal stressors of managing an extraordinarily unruly ICU. I’m just saying maybe the Universe should not have picked up the “when it rains, it pours” baton quite so enthusiastically.

#depression #death #suicide #stress #triggering content #venting

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rosenallies · 11 months

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Some hurt/comfort in Sick Au with the angst prompt “why are your eyes so red?” Synthia has a medical emergency and is in the hospital 🥺 Kendall stepped out of the room and ended up crying in the hallway and Gia finds them

😞sick au </3

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“Hey, I went and got the girls from school as soon as you called,” Gia said, walking down the long emergency room corridor with Natalie and Jane in tow, stopping dead in their tracks when they saw Kendall up close, standing outside one of the rooms, his eyes red and bloodshot.

They sucked in a breath, fishing for a couple dollars in their pockets, quickly pressing $2 each into Natalie and Jane’s hands. “Why don’t you girls go find a vending machine? Get some juice and a snack or something, okay?”

“But, I wanna see dada-“ Natalie whimpered, attempting to peer into the room where Synthia was, but Gia blocked her view so instead her eyes raked over her daddy, who avoided their gazes like the plague, eyes downcast.

“Nat,” Gia warned gently, “please. Wait in the waiting area and behave, please. Daddy or I will come get you soon, okay?”

Jane tugged on her friend’s hand, sensing that Natalie would need some convincing. “Come on, Nat, I saw the vending machine had the good fruit snacks.”

Natalie huffed and followed Jane back down the hallway, leaving her parents alone.

“Ken, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

He sniffled, hugging himself tightly. “I’m not.”

“Then why are your eyes so red? Come on, I’m not stupid. Is it bad?”

Kendall shrugged. “I-I don’t know; he’s unconscious. They put him on oxygen because his o2 stats were awful. Gi, when-when I found him,” he shuddered, feeling bile rise up in his throat, “I thought he was dead. He was nearly blue, Gia. If I would have just checked on him sooner-I thought he was just sleeping.”

“Stop, it’s not your fault.”

“It is. He could be dying and-and it would be all my fault for not calling an ambulance sooner.”

Gia grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. “He’ll be okay, he always is,” Gia swore, though they weren’t sure either, “can I go in and see him?”

Leading them inside, Kendall felt sick looking at Synthia in the hospital bed. The image wasn’t exactly a new one, they’d seen him in the hospital too many times for it to be jarring but they’d never seen him look so small and sickly, even when he was first sick he had more color in his cheeks.

“Oh love,” Gia cooed, tears brewing in their own eyes as they stroked Synthia’s pale cheek.

Kendall came and stood beside them, lacing his and Gia’s fingers together. “The doctor came in a while ago, they’re gonna move him to the ICU as soon as they can.”

“We better let Nat come and see him before he gets moved, you know how she gets when she can’t see him.”

“I know,” Kendall breathed, “I don’t want her to see him like this though. What if this-“

“Don’t say that, it won’t be the last time she sees him, it won’t be. He’ll pull through. He always does, he has to.”

Gia and Kendall melted into one another, crying over their unconscious partner, wondering if he would be okay this time.

#sick verse #prompt request

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naturecoaster · 2 months

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The NatureCoaster.com Story for our Ten-Year Anniversary

I was stuck in a chair. I could get up, but I wasn’t supposed to. I was instructed to sit and heal from the extensive wounds I had suffered on August 26, 2013, exactly one week past my 51st birthday. Now, we are celebrating ten years of NatureCoaster on April 6 and I hope you will join us. Event details are at the end of the story. Meanwhile, this is the condensed version of how NatureCoaster.com came to be. I had been in an induced coma in the UF Shands ICU and Burn Units for months and was “sprung” just before Thanksgiving, at which time I was sent to an excellent rehab hospital in Brooksville. At least I was on home turf while I relearned how to walk, pick things up and move them where I wanted, and how to use the bathroom without help. Still, I didn’t want to sit in a chair too long. I wanted to do something. While talking with a very good friend she suggested, “You should take the magazine online. Everybody loved it!” It is now early 2014 and I got a spiffy laptop computer, beginning my future… creating NatureCoaster.com. It began with learning WordPress and using the free template of the year, Magazine, and free web hosting to recreate the very popular, but not profitable “Travelhost of the Nature Coast” that I had published from 2004-2010 when the Gulf Coast oil spill put the final nails in the coffin of that business. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ve8NjnBAGH0 NatureCoaster.com is Born I got a call from a former colleague, asking me to be part of a Familiarization (FAM) Tour of Citrus, Hernando, and Pasco counties with Robin Draper, creator of Authentic Florida. We visited parks, ate in some of the best local restaurants, and took a wonderful boat tour together with the Tourism agencies for each County. One night, we stayed at one of the cabins on Chinsegut Hill together, just Robin and me. “You need an email list! That’s how you grow,” she told me. She also gave me her phone number and a LOT of encouragement. Robin became my mentor and without her, NatureCoaster wouldn’t have made it to the end of our first year. In April 2014, I interviewed Howard Bellamy for our first feature story. He was a true gentleman and shared stories with me of growing up in a different time on Florida’s Nature Coast. I still remember him telling me about Frances (he and his brother, David, called their mom by her first name while she helped them negotiate the music business of the 1970s and beyond) and how she and their dad tamed the land in Darby and grew their cattle business. David and Howard Bellamy at their family ranch in the 1970s. Image courtesy of The Bellamy Brothers. He also told me about going fishing in Port Richey, jumping in the Weeki Wachee River, the origins of the San Antonio Rattlesnake Festival, and more. We sent out our first newsletter. Were there 50 readers? About this time, I realized that if this was going to be my career, I would need to have income, so I began a local business directory. This required paid hosting and an investment in software. I began searching for the domain name. The one I wanted, NatureCoasting, wasn’t available. I liked the action verb idea, but compromise had to be made, so NatureCoaster it is. I charged $36.50 to be in the directory because I figured it had to be worth at least 10 cents a day to a local business. Several of the customers from the printed magazine invested in this, giving me enough hope to keep going. Some wanted to pay more, so I made a “top-of-the-directory” position for $100/year. Friends and Partners make NatureCoaster.com Grow Our newest NatureCoasters at Art in the Park. Image by Diane Bedard. Over the years, so many people came alongside us to bring us to where we are today: More than 245,000 unique visitors to the site in 2023 and growing! I got freelance jobs from former customers and new customers. I was able to work on a video series with Shannon Burns and Steve Sofcheck called “Gems of the Nature Coast,” writing and editing half-hour segments. These Gems aired on the Citrus County Key TV station only and could be seen on YouTube. I worked in trade for a commercial being made for NatureCoaster.com and a media schedule on the station. The commercial we created won second place at the Florida Outdoor Writer’s Association Excellence in Craft awards that year. Greatest Hits 106 management, Steve and Stephanie Schurdell met with me and agreed to sponsor our calendar of events with radio spots. Their support was instrumental in getting the word out that a digital magazine was available for organizations throughout the Nature Coast to add their events to, connecting the region. Captain "Shell" Marinaro, Marla Chancey, Robin Draper, and Diane Bedard enjoying the Gulf of Mexico on their way back to Gill Dawg's Marina. When COVID came, the events came to a standstill, and the radio stations and I agreed to stop the sponsorship until there were events to promote again. When the time came to revisit, NatureCoaster.com was so strong that I never reached back out to them. Mentors and Friends Contribute to NatureCoaster.com Robin encouraged me to join the Florida Outdoor Writers Association. She encouraged me to enter their Excellence in Craft Awards and I actually won a couple of awards in 2017. Again in 2019, 2020, 2021 and 2022. I met Sally White at my first conference, and we became fast friends, both serving on the Board of Directors. Meanwhile, Robin retired and found Melanie Lentz-Janney to take on the next chapter of Authentic Florida. Melanie Lentz-Janney, publisher of AuthenticFlorida.com, and Diane Bedard, publisher of NatureCoaster.com proudly display their 2018 Sunshine Blog Awards at FLBlogCon. Robin also brought me to Florida BlogCon, where I met hundreds of bloggers from around Florida, as well as major advertisers who recognized blogging and social media as viable promotional channels. One of my connections from that organization places all our community news on the site as well as helps with blessing and editing events that are added to the NatureCoaster Calendar: Meagan Goepferich. A writer, Jacqueline Bodnar, got my name from FLBlog Con and reached out to me about being a part of her book, Blogging for Bucks. NatureCoaster.com is Chapter Five! Sally White has won many writing awards and has become a regular contributor to NatureCoaster.com. I love her writing, and as NatureCoaster has grown, I had to take on more management responsibilities. Sally publishes Florida for Families and she and her husband, Chef Randal White, are part owners in Remington Steakhouse at the World Equestrian Center in Ocala, Florida. One of those responsibilities was best outsourced… website management. Delegation Makes NatureCoaster.com Better In the first few years, every time I had an idea of ways to grow NatureCoaster’s content or usability, I ended up working on a WordPress project that came with a lot of challenges, so I would be frustrated, cussing, and pounding away. One day my husband suggested I contact Stefen Phelps, now co-founder of Kelp Creative Agency. At that time, Stefen was coding websites for a well-known web agency in Tampa and he took me on as a freelance project on his own time. Whew! Then Stefen wanted to meet. “This is my friend, Luke Kenney, a graphic designer. We want to start our own agency in Brooksville and we want to have you as our first customer,” Stefen said as we sipped coffees in downtown Brooksville. They named the agency KELP and NatureCoaster.com was their first customer. They took our homemade logo and made it professional, providing us with a level of professionalism rarely seen. They understood and believed in our mission to connect our readers with the “Best of Florida’s Nature Coast” and they have been true partners in making us who we are today. Come to the NatureCoaster.com Ten-Year Celebration and Help a Great Cause In February of this year, I realized that April marked the tenth anniversary of NatureCoaster. It seemed appropriate to have a celebration. On April 6, 2024, please join us for our party. Every business, nonprofit, tourism agency, events planner, or reader that has been a part of this journey is an integral part of our success. Please join us for the NatureCoaster.com Ten-Year Celebration to benefit the Florida Wildlife Corridor Foundation on Saturday, April 6 from 2-9 pm at the Masaryk Winery and Upicktopia farm, 19125 Phillips Road, Masaryktown, FL 34604. The phone number is 352-308-0110. About the Event - This is an outdoor event under a large pavilion with a stage. There are outdoor games and a silent auction to benefit the Florida Wildlife Corridor Foundation. We are asking for a $10 donation to the Corridor Foundation, and if you want to be part of the paint party, please donate $25 or more. There will be outdoor games, u-pick, food and drink, t-shirts for sale, and a silent auction to benefit the Florida Wildlife Corridor Foundation. Also, raffle tickets will be available for $5 to win a Freedom Boat Club Pontoon Boat Cruise for 6. Schedule of Activities - 2 - 4 pm Painting Party by Traveling Art Parties - 4:15 – 6:15 pm Blues Concert by Sarasota Slim Band and Dancing - 6:15-7:15 pm Dinner Break and Silent Auction - 7:30 – 8:30 pm Florida Wildlife Corridor short film, O2O, and Panel Discussion - 8:30 pm Silent Auction Closes and Raffle Ticket pulled for Freedom Boat Club Pontoon Boat Cruise for 6 VIP Tickets are Available Please consider a VIP Ticket, which includes all activities, your dinner of pulled pork or chicken sandwich, potato salad, baked beans and dessert, water and iced tea, a raffle ticket for the Freedom Boat Club pontoon cruise for up to six, an event t-shirt, and a donation to the Florida Wildlife Corridor Foundation. Your donation is $75. Click Here for your VIP Tix "Farmer Dan" bottles wine he and his wife create from fruit grown on the 53-acre farm. Guests are welcome to taste any of the many varieties. Image by Diane Bedard. About the Masaryk Winery The venue is a 53-acre U-pick farm with strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries, as well as vegetables and flowers in season. On site is a cozy air-conditioned winery that offers several wines created from fruit grown on the farm. They offer free tastings (two types of wine for free – full tastings are available for a nominal fee), wine for sale by the glass or the bottle, beer on tap, a variety of packaged sodas and drinks for sale, and an on-site restaurant and catering business with fantastic food and desserts. Read the full article

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dancingintheflames · 1 year

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I’m just feeling really weird today

So my fiancee and I broke up, but we’re stuck living together at least through the summer.

My mother’s partner (roommate?) just had a stroke and is in the ICU

My (now) ex’s mother just had emergency surgery today

I’m still trying to finish up the last of the work for my Chemistry course

I start at a new college in the fall, and I won’t find out if I got a spot in the dorms for at least a few new days, and I have no clue what the fuck I’m going to do if I didn’t get in, because there’s basically no way I can come up w/ rent and security deposit before my financial aid kicks in next year.

I’m at a new all-time HW and I can’t believe I let it get this bad. Fucking ex always told me he still thought I was hot and w/e, but I can’t help thinking that’s probably why we haven’t had sex in over a year. He always said it was stress or hunger or being tired, but I don’t think I believe him any more.

Now, if I try to just go all out and keep my intake below 800 and work out every day, according to losertown I could hit the 170′s by next September. Which is still huge, but considering I’m a fucking whale rn at basically 240, that would still be a decent weight loss.

I’m just struggling right now. Spent all day yesterday cleaning (6+ hours) and I haven’t been sleeping well and it’s barely 40 degrees. I’m just so cold and tired and fucking hungry and I want to eat but I need to lose weight before I start school. Hot girl summer might not be possible but hot girl halloween is still a contender lol. That and being single again means I have to actually start dating at some point and I haven’t done that, like, ever.

I don’t know if I’m trying to convince myself that I should increase my intake a bit and maybe factor in some rest days for working out, or if I should stick to the plan. Or at least just up the intake a bit while I finish my course so I can actually get my brain to function.

#personal #i'm just venting #ed but not sheeran #(i haven't seen this tag before but it's fucking hilarious and i'm loving it)

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dappleddd · 2 years

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i haven't posted in 4 months :o

however - i think on the days i don't feel like journaling blogging on tumblr seems like a nice alternative. i honestly write with the intention of no one reading besides myself so bare with me if you actually do try to read my posts here on out :p

anyways...

so a lot had happened! i'll do a short summary.

june:

got a bad kidney infection, ended up in emergency. did another 40km ride in severe weather (50mls of rain and -0 temps) was also my partner and i's first time at a ride solo! fucked my knee up that ride falling over and getting dragged.

july:

took cherry to a dressage clinic, thoroughly enjoyed. cherry was a star student, coach adored her. finally confronted my "friend" who had been using me. went as well as i expected it to go. had a few bad rides. lost my confidence. went and saw tyler the creator w my little brother, stayed in perth for the night and was a lil peak of independence for my brother. went and did another 40km successfully. most beautiful ride. camped with my partner and dad / was an amazing weekend.

august:

met up w internet friend for a ride in the forrest - enjoyed it despite not sleeping at all the night before. my partner put an offer in on our dream block. offer was accepted!!!! mum had knee replacement surgery. didn't go well. was in hospital / icu for 2 weeks. mum came home towards the end. i go and pick up my new horse, a mare ive been interested in for a while - her owners circumstances changed. welcome dior - "deedee".

september:

ya know we are only 16 days into it so... but cherry had her saddle fitted, dee has settled in well at home, and i had a flare the first week of september so still feels like im playing catch up.

now that i've word dumped my entire 4 months of existence, i'll start back daily blogging? maybbbeeee? if i remember

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nova-ritz · 2 years

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I'm terrified of what my home is becoming America is so destructive and horrible I don't feel Safe or protected

I'd like to talk about some horrible experiences I've had with fertility

I've been with my partner since we were about 16 and 17 and the very first time I miscarried I had to do it alone and ut was hard and painful and I didn't know what was going on but I couldn't go to my parents about it and I called my partner and we were ok

Then when we moved in together we kept trying to have a baby because we both genuinely want to love and care for our child and raise a wonderful person thts going to help bring light and love to those around them

So thts what we did we kept trying and I'd get pregnant then have a miscarriage and cry be in pain and feel depressed for a few months in total I've had 6 miscarriages at no fault of anyone's

Thinking tht extremely hard and painful time if it were to happen again I could not only get investigated BUT THROWN IN TO JAIL for what having a body tht can't hold a baby I don't understand how thts ok having a miscarriage is horrible and one of the hardest things we have had to go through so I can't understand criminalizing it on basis of what u don't know the person or worse u don't know the circumstances and some people can't have kids or don't want them and there's nothing wrong with tht if ur going to ban abortion make sterilization getting ur tunes tied or getting vasectomys more accessible and stop telling woman they can't get anything done because they are too young don't have any kids aren't married non of those are acceptable reasons

Now my last experience I want to write about is my son my sweet angel baby

I carried to 36 weeks to the day and gave birth to him we were told even before my water had broken he was not alive in the womb anymore they gave us a few minutes to hold eachother and cry and call our families it was hard on everyone this was the only pregnancy I'd had tht made it past 12 weeks and I got to feel my baby boy grow and kick inside me so the pain I felt was not only heart breaking but gut wrenching because they also chose this time to tell me because of how far I was they may have to do an autopsy on him and the thought of my precious baby being cut open and examined like a lab rat and not my sweet baby was so painful and I couldn't process anything I felt like I was in so much pain I was beginning to feel numb to everything around me

On top of it all I had what the doctor told me was a "traumatic labor" and I lost alot of fluids I had to get 4 blood transfusions I'm a diabetic and was pre eclamptic after birth not to mention I ended up having a severe spinal headache due to the epidural having to be put in 3 times and at the end of it all I only got to be with my baby boy for 12 hours honestly I was afraid to hold him he looked so fragile and small and I was so devoid of fluid tht right after I gave birth my face was crying but my eyes had nothing coming out and I just desperately sat their with my partner and we were both just hoping he would cry and then even more happend

After 12 hours I was moved to ICU so they had to take our baby to the funeral home and they had to ask my husband and our family to leave because covid precautions were being taken at the hospital so I went down there all by myself and I finally was about to regain fluids and cried alone in my hospital bed while the TV was on so I could not be heard and I kept praying tht some how some way everything would be ok

I was released to from the hostipal after a few days and then was right back in less than 24 hours later and transferred to a different one hours away and I had been trying to see if the funeral home would let us hold our baby more before we had to transfer to tht hospital and they were trying so hard to make it happen but I got transferred before they could then they were trying to get the new hospital to approve of us to get to hold him at the new hospital and the hospital said no and we were devastated and worried we wouldn't get to just hold him again before they were supposed to creamate him and after 2 weeks I was finally released from the hospital and the funeral home was so awesome about it we got to hold him for I don't even know how many hours and the funeral director was so so amazing she gave us a bear tht was our sons weight at birth and tht helped my partner and I out so much during our time healing we were in so much pain and it really helped make both of us feel better and then we jjst started to heal I started taking insulin (I have needle anxiety and still do so thts not any fun) I started taking prescription pills along with my normal vitamins and I started to just feel a bit better getting fresh air spending time with my partner and our families

But I'll admit even now months later I still don't feel like I'm at my fullest I still feel sad about all of it I cried while writing this post I can still feel all the pain when I think about my son

Ur not just strapping woman with pregnancy ur strapping them with years of pain and years of heart ache and years of their body being changed

I was 19 when I had my son I'm 20 now and my body will never be the same and for me that's OK because I MADE THE CHOICE but this is a choice this shouldn't be forced upon anyone who doesn't want to do this it's hard alot can happen u could be treated like a criminal for ur child not surviving even before Roe V Wade was overturned

As someone who has been through it already I'm scared for what will happen to my little ones in the future and if the same things happen tht I won't have a choice to say I don't want my baby Sliced up just for them to tell me what I already knew tht I didnt kill my child

Pregnancy is painful and kinda just sucks all the pain and the swelling and the having to pee and the cramps tht happen when ur uterus is expanding

For people who want to be parents like my partner and I it's worth it but for those who don't it can be hell and the worst part is when ppl like my partner and I dont get to have a baby at the end tht was wanted and the people who didn't want the baby and were forced in to this do get one at the end

U cant expect people to be ok with it and u can't expect people to want the babies they are forced to have

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27dragons · 2 years

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What’s Been Going on with Dragons

Longtime followers may have noticed I’ve been a lot less active over the last year, and even less active than that in the last 4-6 months. You may even have wondered WTF, dragons?

Well… This TF:

Obviously, the pandemic heaped stress on literally everyone; that’s probably got to go first on the list, because it compounded and multiplied the effect of every single other thing on the list.

Tisfan’s stroke (Sept ’20) deprived me of my writing partner and most avid reader, which was a hell of a blow.

I got a promotion at work (Apr ’21) that involved quite a bit more responsibility and stress, and then it took eight months to backfill my previous position, which meant I was doing two full-time jobs.

Thing1 started college (Aug ’21) and more or less immediately hated it, which is obviously worse for them than me, but is still pretty stressful as a parent who wants to make sure their kids get everything they need to be successful and happy adults.

Thing1 then landed in the hospital for a few days (Sept ’21); I spent the whole thing living in the hospital visitor’s chair.

I was more or less guilted into accepting a “temporary” promotion at work (Nov ’21) to be the project manager for my entire project — a project which is foundering due to factors I won’t discuss in a public forum but which are entirely outside of my control. This promotion did NOT come with a pay increase, because of its temporary nature. The only saving grace was that they finally backfilled my original position, but that meant I had to start training the new person. For those counting along at home, that’s two high-responsibility, full-time positions, plus training a third.

Tisfan’s death (Dec ’21) rocked me HARD, and I spent most of the next month laser focused on doing everything I could to help and support her family while trying to deal with my own grief.

The government office for which I’m a contractor put our contract up for bid (Dec ’21). The new contract was so bad that my company decided not to bid on it. Despite putting out the bid, the government hadn’t actually made a decision about whether to go with this new contract or renew our current contract.

An assortment of minor-but-annoying medical issues cropped up (Jan-Feb ’22). One of those (just as an indicator of my stress levels) is a stomach ulcer.

One of my two database admins, due to the uncertainty of our contract, left the company (Feb ’22), leaving me with only one DBA. This is, as you might imagine, not ideal.

My mom, while on vacation in Mexico with my dad, wound up in the hospital, in ICU (mid-March). Not only was the family extremely worried about her, we also had some additional moderate worry about my dad and various logistics (like the hospital demanding payment up front for over $50,000, and my dad’s hotel reservation running out, and trying to figure out how to get my mom back to the U.S. once she was stable enough to move.)

My remaining DBA left (mid-March) for a trip out of the country for 3 weeks, which means they have only limited access to our databases.

The government decided (mid-March) to go with the new contract and not renew our current contract; everyone currently on the contract (including me) now has to decide whether to leave our company and go to work for the company who won the new contract (which, if you recall, was so bad our company didn’t want it), or be laid off and look for new jobs.

Just as she was stabilizing, my mom suffered a heart attack and died (late March). I’ve spent most of the last 10 days or so coping with that grief and all the logistics of getting my dad and her remains back into the U.S. and then getting started on all the paperwork. Death involves a lot of paperwork. When that death happens in another country, the amount of paperwork is even more ridiculous.

So, uh, yeah. My stress levels are through the roof right now, and every time I try to write something, I look at the doc, read the last few paragraphs, and then close it again. I just can’t.

That said, my work situation is at least going to be resolving in a couple of weeks. I am not staying on with the slowly-dying project, but my company has promised to shift me into one of their other, more successful projects, so I won’t be unemployed. Two more weeks, and then I will hopefully be able to draw a deep breath again.

And I miss writing. So I’ve applied to the Winteriron ‘zine. It’s time to get back on the horse. Wish me luck! Story ideas welcome! 😅

#my boring life #(yes i am fully aware of the irony of that tag)#(i would really like my life to be a little more boring now please)#pique queue

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jadelynlace · 3 years

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Ink Drinker / Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader], Chapter 6

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

***content warning [PLEASE READ]: this chapter has the after effect of the trauma call, and too many emotions. surgical mentions and medical terminology are in this chapter as well. anything in italics indicates a flash back.

author’s note: I’m so sorry.

“Floki, why can I be left alone?” Ivar asked.

“Because the last time you were left alone you ended up with fifty thousand milligrams of pain killers in your stomach. Now, come here—do you know this?” Floki replied with his fingers taping the photo copied image.

“I drew that.” Ivar said back.

“Yes, you did. Where do you want it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You hate your body so much why don’t you cover it in something you like?”

It is sixteen hours that Ivar is in surgery. His world is dark, nothing but, with pierces of noises that he can recall. But trying to decipher them only makes the surroundings dull, caked in black and muffled with a buzz of an unruly bee hive. There are pokes of pain, he remembers the green light, and he remembers the pot hole he swerved to miss. He doesn’t remember how fast he was driving and the second he was over the yellow line made no difference for the sudden beast of a truck to find him.

Everything below Ivar’s powdered knee caps are reattached. Grueling hours on the table while he’s sewed back together like a monster. Enough time for Hvitserk to get clothes, to get you clothes, to pack a bag for his brother per your request. Even in the presence of clean laundry you can’t take your blues off yet—they’re holding you proper because you just saw Ivar that morning. You two made love in the low morning light, filled with ecstasy, his seed and then he made you eggs with extra hot sauce and hugged you tightly you were sure you stopped breathing. He told you to be safe, baby, like he did at the dawn of each shift and that he would call you when his last appointment was finished, and on his way back from shopping for supplies for the parlor and that you two would make lunch plans. In his speed, his haste to make sure he didn’t miss you before the two tone song of death would sing in the radios, he instead, became the reason it did.

Your chief shows up when you tell him the nature of the emergency. Pulling additional personnel on for overtime and they take the rig out of service and from your hands. Words don’t spare any differences and although he offers you a hug, when you take it he slips you a piece of paper.

“Remember the job you’re doing. And the change you’re making.” He whispers in your ear and you look at the folded sheet. It’s a photocopy of a poorly drawn fire truck with an even worse sketched stick figure, and you had scribbled it when you were five. Back when you met chief for the first time because now you hold the same badge number your father once did.

“If I give you your Dad’s old badge number, are you going to act like a jack ass like him?”

“I can’t make any promises chief.”

“I have a partner in mind for you, you’ll like him. He’s a good kid. A good medic.”

“This good kid got a name?”

“Yeah, Hvitserk. I’ll introduce the two of you.”

This is the call that shapes you as a medic, as a provider, and changes how you see things. This is the call that sends a new person out into the street, whether Ivar lives or not. This is the call that forever holds terror in your heart because he was laying in the back of your ambulance, and that was the one spot you never wanted him to occupy.

Aslaug walks through the doors and she’s already two tissues deep into a soggy mess. Hugging Hvitserk and hugging you and you wish you were meeting this woman for the first time under any other circumstance. Floki thanks you and you don’t quite know why, even though the words fall heavily and un-calming, he still thanks you. And when the surgeon returns before the four of you, you’re the only one that doesn’t stand. But he calls your name because you know him, he was lab staff that tested you for your certifications and he told you that you’ll make a damn good medic one day.

“Remember what I said on the day of your exam?” He asks and you nod, puzzled and impatient looks on the other faces. “You are a damn good medic—you both are.” He adds, eyes jumping from yours to your partners. “And it shows on this call, of all of them.” Hvitserk’s shoulder nudges you and you only nudge him back, perhaps little too hard in your delirious state. “Essentially what we did, was replant the lower portion of each leg. Now, given the extent of his injuries and how his body handles such, I don’t have a clear cut answer for you on his overall mobility. He may need to have screws implanted, he may need prosthetics. He’s going to be in the ICU for the next 48 hours for constant monitoring. We’ll have him sedated so his body can focus on what’s at stake. He’ll need physical therapy for a long time, and he’ll likely be disabled for the rest of his life, given again, how his body handles this. It’ll be a long road. But, like I said—you two are damn good medics and that is the one reason his legs were able to be saved. I will let you know when he’s moved to the ICU.”

You look back at your partner and his face is as blank as yours; influx of emotions just ready to dive from the void but your minds are still churning, still processing all of what boomed from the doctor’s mouth. Ivar’s chance at returning to a normal life was resting in your hands and you two gave the best damn efforts and they worked. The countless hours of dissection, wondering if you’re cut out for this career, these responsibilities, hours of trauma and blood and vomit all fizzle away because you now know that you are. And it just took Ivar to prove it.

When your eyes open again there’s a sharp pierce in your temple, scrunching eyes together and slowly moving, your head rises from Floki’s shoulder and the lights in the ICU have dimmed in the late hour. Impressions stood between his nostrils, falling like petals over his cheekbones, bleeding through split brows and pink flowers through the depths of his neck. His chest sinking and fainting with time, there was a moment of deafening silence when you are looking at his body; seemingly so small under the contraptions. The depths of earth, and the worst hell was seeing him lay on this cot. He’s only sedated now, even though Ivar looked of death, he was still alive under the harvest of wires. The words of how “we’re doing all that we can” do not bring any more comfort, they just take Ivar like a wave rapidly back out to sea. And now you understand how your patients, and their families feel when you speak the same phrases to them. The clinical assessments do not stop a rigorous schedule, motoring for the possible failure. The room is kept warm, and every so often when you will yourself to peek in, you can see the sheen of sweat that’s over Ivar’s forehead, dancing across his chest under the stickers, the monitors. The capillary refill on his toes show promise, and when the nurse says that to her doctor, you find yourself attempting the same motions on your thumb nail. Pressing the pink away and making room for the white, and then in a quick release, the pink swarms back. The ultra sound machines reminds you of the new equipment in your rig as it assess arterial blood flow every hour.

IV bags drip, slow and agonize and the change of wrappings, dressings and cleaning of both the limbs and Ivar himself collect. You spend hours watching the fluid levels sink, his eyes flutter, his fingers in his hand dance and you grow cold because you just want to hold him. To lock him in a steel tower and to constantly remind him how strong he is, because you know the longest road will not come from learning to walk. It will come from Ivar trying to find that he is worthy to live on.

Blackness had retired across your cheeks, wrapping a veil of makeup that melted into battle scars and you could not move if your body depended on it. Aslaug sits next to you; she takes her time wiping the makeup off from under your eyes, the soiled mascara and she’s humming to you. She had been telling you how when Ivar was young, she would sing to him and it would calm him down. How she sang to him in the hospital after he tried to overdose, tubes pumping his stomach as she blamed herself for such wrong doing. How Hvitserk blamed himself because he gave no one a warning cry. And how she’s singing to Ivar now, even though he can’t hear it, because it comforts the three of you as a whole.

When your eyes follow the nurse into the room, you can hear her say something to Ivar and you watch his head turn in confusion. Grogginess and a fog on his brain as she talks to him like it’s a normal conversation; wishing him a good morning, how the weather looks promising for a beautiful day and you wish you had that level of bed side manner. You never get the promising parts of the journey; you get the patients that are coding and in a rush to the life saving team in the hospital. You love the ones who tell you their entire live’s story in the back of the rig on the way to the emergency room, sharing details and calming your mind with how simple, and yet how different every walk of life is. The nurse says something about you, about Hvitserk and Aslaug and Floki, out and waiting and ready to see him when he’s fit. You wave through the glass and there’s the tease of a smirk on Ivar’s face, even in his slightly sedated state. A dastardly, bastard smirk and his hand lifts off the bed slightly, wiggling his fingers back to you. The tears start up again, pounding a sledge hammer through your skull after all of the unruly pressure and messes of crying as your body tries to go numb.

“Where’s my mom?” You hear Ivar say in a voice that muted slightly as the nurse stands in the door way to exit. “Can I see my mom?” And the nurse nods. Aslaug stands and kisses your hair line as she walks into the vicinity, Ivar watching her and you need to back up, you need to walk away from the room, this hall way and this battle. A faint wheeze goes through your chest and Floki catches it first before Hvitserk has a chance to lift his head and open his eyes.

“Let’s walk, dear,” Floki says and his voice is not authoritative but it still demands you to comply as he loops an arm around your shoulder. “Walking can help to clear the mind.” It’s your first time outside in almost three days, and the sunlight burns you like you had been its victim on a sand covered shoreline for one too many hours. The hospital grounds are manicured, they’re neat and arranged with an abundance of flowers and colors in the open air but everything to you still feels so dull and lifeless, pointless and hopeless and walking only churns your thoughts to double, triple in size like a snow ball rolling down a hill.

You’re finally allowed in to see Ivar and you approach slowly, like touching him will seer you suddenly, stain you with a unremovable pattern and you’ll forever be reminded. His blue eyes are dull and groggy when they open, the nasal cannula wrapping his face and your eyes dance over the scurf collecting on his jaw, and the faint bruising, cuts and scrapes on his skin.

“Hey baby,” His voice rasps and you kneel by the bed, tears already on their journeys to streak your tried skin and Ivar’s needle poked, IV covered arm comes to wipe what he can reach. “You were there, weren’t you?” And you can only nod, eyes still damp and you relish in the touch he gives you only if it’s for a second. “You saved my life, baby,” Ivar finally adds and that makes the whimper start again, the choke of a sob in your throat and he tries to quiet you, slithering a quick noise from his lips and you rest your head against the bed, his hand still on your hair.

“I drove the ambulance over a hundred miles an hour,” You finally say and they’re the first words you can use to process the trauma you two had lived through together.

“That’s my girl,” Ivar smiles, speaking with a voice that sounds like sandpaper.

“I love you Ivar—no matter what happens, I love you so much,”

“I love you too, Y/N,” Ivar says and his voice is weaker now and he needs rest. “Kiss me before you go?” He says with eyes scanning your face, and you can’t deny that now. Pressing your lips softly against his, your hands cupping his cheek and you hope it’s not the last kiss you’ll ever get from him. “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” Ivar tells you. “I’m afraid. But I’m not going anywhere,” You nod as he speaks, a forehead against his for a second and his hand is still trying to reach on you where he can. This is the man that would pull the tubes and the wires from his chest if he could, if that would make him get closer to you. “You’re stuck with me,” And there’s a faint snicker after his words, weak and drowned out from the normal tone but you’ll take it after not hearing his voice for three days.

“I’m stuck with you,” You say back with a small smile. But it still doesn’t bring enough hope.

Ink Drinker Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @queen-sarang @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @walkxthexmoon @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @istorkyou @victoria-styles @quantumlocked310 @xbellaxcarolinax @mighty-ragnarssons @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @queen-of-upshur @nanahachikyuu @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @ivarhoegh @a5hl3y5ibley @hashimily @youbloodymadgenius @love-all-things-writing @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon @tgrrose @synnersaint @kataphine

*please message me to let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. specifications for series/etc. are also welcomed, as well as feedback.*

full masterlist can be found here.

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the-ace-with-spades · 9 months

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My local ambulance trust has opened applications for EMTs and I'm applying

Nursing's been so bad lately

Not only with my colleagues being casually transphobic but also because we're so short-staffed that every shift I finished I just feel guilty because I couldn't give the care I want to my pts. The management says we're target-staffed and don't want to do anything, we have 8-10 new admissions every day on a unit with 40 beds and the NIC can barely keep up, the agency staff they bring in to fill up team vacancies while no one applies to permanent job posts (because our unit is heavy and high-dependency and no one wants to work there) is rude and mean at best, incompetent at worst. They don't do much aside from meds, obs and notes, and even that I can see is sometimes not done properly. When you try to help them, they ignore you or go off on you like you don't know what you're saying, when you don't, they either get angry or don't care for the pts properly.

I haven't had a day at work I didn't have to make a datix in months, and every time I feel like I'm snitching on someone even if I know bad and inadequate care needs to be reported for safety. We had a pt with a short-term catheter in for two months because I kept on saying to check the notes for the insertion date because it sounds fishy and no one did. Had a pt transported to respiratory CU because obs were ignored and not repeated, the doctor not notified. End of life pts lying without moving for hours because people keep saying I don't have time, they're going to die anyway. What the fuck?

Every time I go work outside my unit, I feel like I have a holiday, even if I book a shift in ICU or ED, and they're supposed to be the hellholes of our hospital. I wish I could switch to ED but they aren't hiring permanents atm and I need to work full-time.

We had some new junior doctors coming in who are brilliant which at least helped me not feel like the consultants are not listening to me (had so many errors from them lately, too, and it's hard to interact with them when they question everything you tell them like you don't know what you're talking about) but I know they're going to be temporary. My favorite band 6s are retiring. My anxiety tells me my band 7s don't like me (not true, probably, but lately I'm just tired and have a lot of conversations where I just feel like they think I'm just complaining/venting...). So many people are leaving the unit and many of them were basically the ones that held the place together with their positive attitudes.

The advice I got from my colleagues was to take holidays and relax and you know what? I took some and my grandma had a stroke so yeah, I was so relaxed. I'm running on fumes.

To add insult to injury, my local Tesco is offering more pay for night-shift workers than I get for day shifts atm.

If I work ambulance, at least I won't feel like I'm constantly disappointing my pts, like I could've done more. Just one pt at the time (mostly) and partners that are permanent team members or bank and no one from an agency that won't care ever again. Sure, my pay will go down for a little bit, but it's so worth not feeling guilty every day.

I love nursing but it's just mentally exhausting for someone who actually cares. I'm tired of hearing agency nurses say they just nursing so they could get an easy UK visa or nurses who say they got into nursing because they didn't get into medicine. I just want to work in an environment where I know people from my team have my back and work with the same mentality about our goals.

If I could've, I'd have switched to fire service but I'm still waiting for my eye surgery and can't apply for at least a year. I just need out of where I'm working atm fast or I'm going to go crazy.

#sorry this is personal rant because I don't want to talk to anybody irl about this #my bf knows its bad but I just don't want him to go on the whole 'quit move in with me and then we'll figure stuff out' wagon again #i really don't feel like we should be moving in together yet #me posts #delete later

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

The Enforcers: Part 5 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

wc: 1.7k

tw: NSFW. (It's finally happening.)

masterlist

Suguru stares at the screen in disbelief.

"I don't know what else to say," you breathe, eyes wide. "I think that we should go to the Grand Council or my parents and--"

"It's a hoax," he frowns, shaking his head. "None of this makes any sense. And I've seen fabricated shit like this before."

"But the timestamps!" you retort, pointing at the metadata.

"Those can be fabricated by using an old machine. You can't trust anything these days unless it comes from the Archives."

"But--"

"I think you need to delete these and forget about it. This is someone's sick idea of a joke, y/n." Suguru stands, scowling at the computer one last time before turning away. "I'll figure out who did this. Don't worry. Just delete that shit and don't mention it to anyone." Suguru stalks out of the room and you look at the files, dragging them to the trash before turning your computer off and trying to put it out of your mind.

_____________________________________________________________

You're back at the club with your friends, sitting among new faces and old ones just the same. But the nagging feeling that something isn't right is dragging across the pit of your stomach like a rake. When you glance at Suguru, he's laughing with his other Leviathan friends, but barely touching his only drink.

He must be unnerved by it, too, you think, and rub your forehead before watching Yuji try his best dance moves on Nobara, which fails miserably, of course. Yuki sits to your left, also watching the show with varying degrees of amusement before looking over at you.

"Why the long face, Ms. Successful? Is this too boring for you?" You consider telling her what's really bothering you, turning to her in the dim lighting and pressing your lips together. Her face changes and you know your secret can't be kept for long.

"What would you do if someone played a really bad prank on you?"

"What, did Suguru piss on your curtains?"

"Huh?" You look at her in shock, and she shrugs.

"Alright, maybe that's just a Toji thing. My bad." She sips her drink thoughtfully. "What kind of prank are you talking about?"

"Someone..." You hesitate, but decide to keep going anyways. "Someone put files on my computer to make it seem like my parents were involved with something called Project Kudzu and Project Redroot." Yuki frowns deeply, blinking rapidly.

"Y/n, I've never heard of those things before." You sigh, shaking your head. "Did they have any real proof?"

"Yeah, some audio files, two videos, and a bunch of TS-CO labeled documents that--" A hand lands on your shoulder, and you look up to see Suguru standing above you.

"That pre-game was wild, wasn't it?" Pre-game? "Sorry, Yuki. Y/n here had a whole bottle of red wine and played some weird game before coming. She's been going on about it to me for hours... projects and stuff." Yuki laughs, waving him off.

"It's okay! I was a little confused, too, but I get it. Girl," she turns to you, shaking her head. "You should probably go home and get some rest. If I had known you were drunk already I would've--"

"I'm not drunk," you reply, looking back and forth between Suguru and Yuki. "I swear, I'm not--"

"Let me get you home, party girl," Suguru mumbles, pulling you up from your seated position and gripping your hand tightly as he drags you along with him. "It's been a long day."

"But I'm not--" The look Suguru gives you is deadly, and you shut your lips as he takes you to the car you both came in, opening your door silently. You slide into the seat and he shuts the door with force, climbing into the driver's seat, but not starting the car. He grips the steering wheel and clenches his jaw, finally muttering,

"Didn't I tell you not to say anything to anyone?"

"Suguru, this has been bothering me for days! I don't know what to do!"

"I'm trying to find out who would break into your room and do this to you. Can you let me work?" he asks tersely. "For once in your life, can you let someone look out for you?" His black eyes are blazing in the dim light of the parking lot, and your bottom lip quivers.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he exhales, starting the car. "I just... I just need you to let me figure this out. Someone isn't playing nice in our own organization and if it comes at the expense of my partner, I'm not having it. Lay low for me for a while, got it?" Suguru places his hand on your thigh and you nod, feeling your heart pick up an uneven rhythm. Your mouth goes dry at his lingering touch, but before you can think about it any further, he removes his hand and pulls out of the parking lot to take both of you back to the base.

When you get back to your barracks, you pause in the living room, looking over at your Leviathan as he removes his leather jacket and deposits it on the couch, sighing. You slowly approach him from behind and touch his back, which makes him flinch a little.

"I don't know why you continue to put up with my antics," you murmur and he huffs a breath out, shaking his head. "But thank you for saving my ass... and for looking out for me." Suguru turns to you, his lips quirking up a bit.

"Little Ms. Successful is thanking me for my service? Are you drunk?" Your cheeks heat up at the nickname and you roll your eyes, about to turn away from him when he catches your wrist. "Don't do that," he breathes, bringing you in close so your chests are touching. Your breathing hitches and he raises his knuckles, grazing them over your cheek. You close your eyes at the contact, and he slides his fingers down to your chin, tilting it up and humming softly.

"Open your eyes," Geto whispers, and you do so, trying your best not to seem too flustered. He leans down, brushing his lips across yours for permission, and your close your eyes again, letting him kiss you. When his lips separate from yours, he touches your nose with his, and you raise up on your tiptoes to feel his lips on yours again. "Are you sure you want to do that?" he wonders as you pull away. You nod your head, and he laughs softly.

"I do want to keep kissing you, yes," you reply, and he wraps a hand around your waist, lifting you off your feet and wrapping your legs around him.

"Nothing good comes of that," he warns, but you scoff.

"I'd beg to differ."

And that's how you find yourself on his neatly made bed, legs pushed up to your chest as Suguru greedily laps at your cunt like a starving man. "Su..." you moan, and he grunts in response. "That feels so good."

"I bet it does," the Leviathan replies, raising his brow at you salaciously before flicking your clit with his tongue. Your toes curl painfully as he dips a finger into you, then raises it up to your lips, tugging your mouth open so you can taste yourself. You suck on the digit with pleasure, humming when he pulls it back out and finger fucks you while sucking on your clit.

You buck under his grip, but he raises off of you, denying you an orgasm so soon. Geto kisses you deeply, swiping his tongue across yours so you can taste yourself again, then sits up, motioning for you to do the same.

"You want to do this?"

"Yeah." Suguru pulls his long hair up with an elastic and removes his pants, climbing back onto the bed and sitting against the headboard. He pulls you into his lap and raises you up, allowing you to grasp his hard length before sliding onto it carefully.

"Easy, easy..." he hisses, and you slow down, taking him inch by inch. You place your arms around his neck and rock back and forth, closing your eyes when you feel all of him nestled inside of you. Suguru groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head forward onto your shoulder. "Hold on, I'm gonna lay on my back." You allow him to slide forward, and he pushes you down onto his chest with a broad hand before pumping into you methodically.

"Oh, god..." you moan, and Suguru exhales shakily. "Su, you feel amazing."

"Say it a little louder so our neighbors can hear you," he jokes, but you clench around him and his laughter is cut short. "Fuck!" The man beneath you smacks your ass, and you yelp in response. "Keep doing that and this will be over faster than you can spell your own name."

"Then fuck me and quit being a smart ass," you gripe. Suguru shrugs and mutters,

"You asked for it." before slamming his hips into your ruthlessly. You cry out at the sensations his pace brings, and he grips your wrist as you lift off of him, holding your left hand against his chest. "Stay right here, princess. I'm not letting you go for shit." Your mouth seems to maintain its "O" shape the entire time he's fucking you senseless, and you can't say a word, eyes crossing and making you see double of your partner.

"Oh, god," you finally shudder, and Suguru lets go of your hand to lean you back down, mouth latching on one of your breasts.

"Cum for me," Geto challenges you before going back to sucking on your nipples relentlessly. You feel something inside of you break - almost like a busted dam releasing a flood of sensations and emotions that you've held at bay since you arrived here. "Oh, you're doing so good," Suguru grunts, holding you as you tremble fiercely while his hips stutter. "Just let it all go."

And for some reason, tears - actual tears - come out of your eyes as if this sexual release also broke your heart in two.

"Did I hurt you?" Suguru asks, swiping at your tears with a worried expression.

"No," you reassure him, shaking your head fiercely. "Not at all."

"Hmmm..." He rests your head against his chest as his breathing slows, hands stroking your back and hair with care. "You've had a hard couple of days. Just rest, alright? I'll be here when you wake up." So, you fall asleep, trusting your partner who's never betrayed you before.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut@r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23@rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @chanelmalandro @savantsoulfinder @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on

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

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slutfornat · 3 years

Text

Little Hotch // Identity

Warnings: swearing, racism, sexism, drugs, murder, kidnapping.

Y/n's POV:

This is now the third case I get to go one with my dad. Me and reid follow prentiss and morgan into Rossi's new office as they begin analysing.

Looking at the renaissance picture in the office I say, "means he's into the classics. italian, strict catholic upbringing". Reid continuing by saying, "probably believes in redemption."

"Oh, I believe in a lot of things" Rossi says surprising us as he continues on, "Catholic? Yes. Italian- American? 52 years. Strict upbringing? Not so much. Now the art work that's fifteen century original, cost more than my first house and as for the wall its just a base coat, painters are finishing tomorrow."

"Now, if you're all finished, I'm sure jj and Hotch are ready for us. Isn't that how a team works?" he finishes as we all walk out of the room silently and Rossi is smirking.

"Montana, over the past fourteen months, three woman have been reported missing. All young, caucasian and brunettes, after an extensive search all were presumed dead" jj says.

Prentiss stating, "well at least we know he has a type". "Now, there's a fourth woman, Angela Miller. This morning, she and her car went missing when at the grocery store while her husband and son were in the car."

"This morning?" reid asks as rossi says, "Montana is asking for our help". "Forty minutes later state troupes spotted the car" she says.

Then dad continues, "when they tried to apprehend the driver he blew himself up, putting one of the troopers in the ICU."

"Are we sure she wasn't in the car with him?" reid asked. "No, it appears she is still missing" jj answers.

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

Y/n's POV:

I'm currently with jj and morgan on our way to find out about his partner. I'm standing behind them as ome of the men says to put the badges away.

"Someone like me?" drek asks. "How has the federal government ever helped your people? Slavery, ghettos, poverty, the cia got y'all hooked on heroine in the 60s, crack in the 80s" the guy says, "now I hate the government but you, you should despise 'em"

He continues speaking until derek says "Francis Georing and his partner murdered and abducted four woman, nobody sent me anywhere, I came here to do right by her."

"His partner is still out there so I understand if you boys are too scared but just say so, don't go hiding behind your vague little gun threats and tired theories please" Derek finishes like a badass.

"You okay?" I say, turning to him once we've left. "How about you? You looked like you could kill him" derek says, only joking slightly.

"Trust me, I don't deal with that much discrimination only some sexism and internalised misogyny from pick me girls that somehow hate their own gender though I believe gender is a social construct that was created to make people follow gender specific roles."

"Dam, you can talk facts, try going into politics one day, kid" jj says, grinning at me before we head back to the others.

I walk through the house to where the others are as they have a look at a bunch of weird torture devices and I say "what the fuck are those?"

"Language, y/n" dad says but no one goes on to explain what they are so I just decided to search it up later on.

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Taglist -

@phatcrackdad @lovelyweaslxy

#lucia one shots #hotchnner!reader #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #bau x teen!reader #teen!reader imagines #f!reader

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naturecoaster · 2 months

Text

The NatureCoaster.com Story for our Ten-Year Anniversary

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