#Medical Supplies Chicago

[medical-shipment-llc]

Pyxis MedStation ES | Medical Shipment & BD Partnership

[slyandthefamilybook]

since we now know that all those "my blog is safe for Jewish people" posts are bullshit, here are some Jewish organizations you can donate to if you actually want to prove you support Jews. put up or shut up

FIGHTING HUNGER

Masbia - Kosher soup kitchens in New York

MAZON - Practices and promotes a multifaceted approach to hunger relief, recognizing the importance of responding to hungry peoples' immediate need for nutrition and sustenance while also working to advance long-term solutions

Tomchei Shabbos - Provides food and other supplies so that poor Jews can celebrate the Sabbath and the Jewish holidays

FINANCIAL AID

Ahavas Yisrael - Providing aid for low-income Jews in Baltimore

Hebrew Free Loan Society - Provides interest-free loans to low-income Jews in New York and more

GLOBAL AID

American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee - Offers aid to Jewish populations in Central and Eastern Europe as well as in the Middle East through a network of social and community assistance programs. In addition, the JDC contributes millions of dollars in disaster relief and development assistance to non-Jewish communities

American Jewish World Service - Fighting poverty and advancing human rights around the world

Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society - Providing aid to immigrants and refugees around the world

Jewish World Watch - Dedicated to fighting genocides around the world

MEDICAL AID

Sharsheret - Support for cancer patients, especially breast cancer

SOCIAL SERVICES

The Aleph Institute - Provides support and supplies for Jews in prison and their families, and helps Jewish convicts reintegrate into society

Bet Tzedek - Free legal services in LA

Bikur Cholim - Providing support including kosher food for Jews who have been hospitalized in the US, Australia, Canada, Brazil, and Israel

Blue Card Fund - Critical aid for holocaust survivors

Chai Lifeline - An org that's very close to my heart. They help families with members with disabilities in Baltimore

Chana - Support network for Jews in Baltimore facing domestic violence, sexual abuse, and elder abuse

Community Alliance for Jewish-Affiliated Cemetaries - Care of abandoned and at-risk Jewish cemetaries

Crown Heights Central Jewish Community Council - Provides services to community residents including assistance to the elderly, housing, employment and job training, youth services, and a food bank

Hands On Tzedakah - Supports essential safety-net programs addressing hunger, poverty, health care and disaster relief, as well as scholarship support to students in need

Hebrew Free Burial Association

Jewish Board of Family and Children's Services - Programs include early childhood and learning, children and adolescent services, mental health outpatient clinics for teenagers, people living with developmental disabilities, adults living with mental illness, domestic violence and preventive services, housing, Jewish community services, counseling, volunteering, and professional and leadership development

Jewish Caring Network - Providing aid for families facing serious illnesses

Jewish Family Service - Food security, housing stability, mental health counseling, aging care, employment support, refugee resettlement, chaplaincy, and disability services

Jewish Relief Agency - Serving low-income families in Philadelphia

Jewish Social Services Agency - Supporting people’s mental health, helping people with disabilities find meaningful jobs, caring for older adults so they can safely age at home, and offering dignity and comfort to hospice patients

Jewish Women's Foundation Metropolitan Chicago - Aiding Jewish women in Chicago

Metropolitan Council on Jewish Poverty - Crisis intervention and family violence services, housing development funds, food programs, career services, and home services

Misaskim - Jewish death and burial services

Our Place - Mentoring troubled Jewish adolescents and to bring awareness of substance abuse to teens and children

Tiferes Golda - Special education for Jewish girls in Baltimore

Yachad - Support for Jews with disabilities

[reality-detective]

Reports are flooding in from across the country of a massive deployment of National Guard Troops over the past 24 hours. From coast to coast, major cities are seeing an unusual presence of armed military personnel patrolling streets, government buildings, and critical infrastructure. The sudden influx of these troops has ignited a frenzy of speculation: Is Martial Law on the horizon?

· Residents from New York to Los Angeles, Houston to Chicago, are on edge as these highly visible deployments raise red flags. There’s no clear reason for this surge—no major disaster, no widespread protests, no external threats. Yet, the troops are here. Why now? The coordination, the scale, and the timing suggest something bigger is brewing. Something they don’t want us to know about.

· MARTIAL LAW RUMORS EXPLODE ACROSS SOCIAL MEDIA! As more footage of troops floods social media, two words are on everyone’s lips: Martial Law. This isn’t just a paranoid fantasy. Martial law means the suspension of our rights, where the military takes control of civilian life. Curfews, checkpoints, property seizures, and arrests without trial are all on the table. And now, it feels like we’re just one step away from that strange reality.

· HAZMAT TROOPS? WHY NOW? The situation becomes even more alarming with reports of HAZMAT teams—military personnel in hazardous material suits—being spotted alongside these National Guard units. What are they preparing for? Is there an imminent bio-terrorism threat? Or is something more insidious at play? The government is silent, offering only vague statements about “preparedness exercises”, leaving the public in the dark.

· UNPRECEDENTED MILITARY ACTIVITY, ZERO EXPLANATIONS Despite the overwhelming presence of military units in our streets, officials aren’t talking. The Department of Defense and local authorities have given the public no clear answers, only further stoking suspicion. If everything was under control, why the secrecy?

· The lack of transparency is only fueling more speculation. Could this be preparation for mass arrests? A response to an unseen threat? Or is it the final push toward a totalitarian regime where our freedoms vanish overnight?

· PANIC AND PREPARE You need to be ready. With the looming possibility of martial law, it’s time to stock up on essentials—food, water, medical supplies. Create a plan to communicate with loved ones. Stay alert and question everything you hear.

· This isn’t just a drill. Something big is coming, and they’re not telling us the whole story.

You can think what you want, but I have been warning everyone that the end is near. Mass arrests are coming through Trump's executive orders he signed before leaving office. People are and have been taken down since 2017, I have been saying that for a long time. You're witnessing the fall of the old guard. 🤔

[novamariestark]

Take My Stress Away

Summary: Jay hasn't spoken to you for a week and you feel you have lost your brother again. After a bad day at work, you find someone waiting by your car.

Warnings: fluffiness, poorly written medical scenes because I have no idea what they are saying in the show 🤣, angry-ish Jay, brief implied SA (not descriptive), proofread but there's always a mistake after posting 🤣

Word count: 3532

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x halstead!reader

“I don’t know what to tell you, kid,” Herrmann said, pouring you a drink.

You scoffed, “I thought you were my friend, Hermie” you took a sip of your drink and shook your head, “You could have warned me,”

Jay was completely pissed. He stormed out of the room, without looking at you. You followed him, begging him to listen. He didn’t. You did not want this mistake to ruin your relationship with your brother.

Was it a mistake?

Of course it was, nothing is worth losing your family over.

But it was so good.

It’s not like you did it on purpose. In your defence, he said his name was Henry. Maybe you should have connected the dots, but you had two double vodkas and had just done a 12 hour shift. The only thing your brain was able to process was the hot guy sitting at the end of the bar.

Herrmann sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't think (y/n)," he said, meeting her gaze with a look that was part apology, part caution. "You seemed to like the guy. Besides, I didn’t think he was the one night stand type… or any type really."

“He wasn’t anything like Jay described,” you muttered, swirling the drink in your glass absentmindedly. Herrmann watched you closely, seeing the confusion and frustration flicker across your face. "Jay made him sound like some cold, heartless guy. But Henry... Hank,” you corrected with a sigh, “He was different. Charming, even. He made me laugh. For the first time in a long time,”

“Hey!” Herrmann exclaimed, his brows shooting up in mock offense. He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, as if you deeply wounded him, and gestured to himself with the other hand, “I make you laugh,”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his theatrics. You shook your head, still smiling, and said, "You know what I mean."

Herrmann leaned forward, resting his hands on the bar. "Give Jay some time. He'll come around. You didn't do anything wrong,”

“I don’t want to lose him over this,” you said, your voice quivering slightly. You bit your lower lip, a nervous habit you’d developed over the years, and looked down at your hands, which were tightly clasped around her glass, “I already lost 28 years,”

 “You won’t,” he said, softly, placing a hand on your wrist, “families fight, they make up,”

"Thanks, Hermie,” you said, standing up from your barstool. “I have a shift tomorrow,” you added, grabbing your jacket from the back of the stool. You took the cash from your pocket and placed it on the bar for the drink.

Herrmann took the cash and put it in the register. “See you tomorrow, (Y/N),” he said, giving you a friendly smile.

The words you dreaded the most fall from Maggie’s lips, “Mass cas,” they echoed in your head and before you knew  it, you were in a bay, trying to save a teenage girl’s life.

It was chaos. Everyone was stretched thin. And so were the supplies. The air smelt of sweat and blood, so potent you could almost taste it. You were alone with the girl for what felt like hours until Connor came in. He saw your face and reassured you that you had done a good job, and the girl was lucky to have you. You felt as though you weren’t. It was times like this where you question whether you are cut out for this.

But then, the machine sounded that one tone that you always dreaded. The continuous drone and despite your and Connor’s best efforts, she passed away.

Later you find from Sam that she had a bleed in the brain. Was it your fault? It felt like your fault.

Like he could read your mind, Connor came over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey,” he said gently, “it’s not your fault.”

He glanced around at the mess the chaos had left the ER in. “In a situation like this, where there are so many patients. Even though we try our best, sometimes things don’t turn out the way we hope.”

The ER was slowly returning to order. The frantic atmosphere had calmed down, like a battlefield after the dust had settled. You moved through the now-quiet space, your mind still replaying the day’s events. You could feel the exhaustion in your limbs, but nothing was as painful as what your heart was going through. Sure you’d seen many people die before, young and old, but it doesn’t get any easier.

You worked alongside everyone, helping to tidy up the mess left behind. The day had clearly taken a toll on everyone, and it showed on their faces. Exhaustion was etched into every expression you saw. When it was finally time to leave, you were relieved.

You put your jacket on, pulling it over your shoulders and zipping it up, then, you grabbed your bag and slipped the strap onto your shoulder. You reached into the front zipper pocket and pulled out your keys, save fishing for them later in the dark car park.

On your way out of the hospital, you gave a tired wave to your colleagues, some of whom were still finishing up their tasks. Will caught your eye and walked over with a smile. "I’m going to talk to Jay," he said, "so I might be a bit late getting home." You nodded and gave him a hug. With a final wave, you stepped out into the cool evening air and just breathed it in for a second. You were ready to head home and felt you could sleep for a week. Maybe a month.

You made your way to your car, each step feeling like it took more effort than the last. Your feet dragged heavily on the pavement, scraping along the pavement as if you were being weighed down by something.

The cool evening air felt refreshing but it offered little comfort to you. As you approached your car, a shadowy figure started to form in the dim parking lot lights. Their posture was relaxed, hands shoved into their pockets, leaning casually against your car. You couldn’t quite make out who it was from a distance, but as you stepped closer the figure became clearer, and realization hit you. The familiar profile and stance matched Henry… Hank.

What is he doing here? Did something happen with Jay? No. Will would have told you. Wouldn’t he?

“Hey” he said as you reached the car, the simple greeting seeming out of place against the backdrop of everything you were feeling inside.

“Hey,” you squeaked out. You were feeling everything in the book, tiredness, sadness, nervousness you name it.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were Jay’s sister?” he asked, his head nodding slightly as he spoke, his brown eyes never leaving yours. If you weren’t so tired, those eyes and that voice would have your body begging for a repeat of last week.

You shrugged as much as your muscles would let you, “Probably the same reason you didn’t tell me you were his boss,” you retorted.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for something you weren’t sure you had to give. You felt like your soul was laid bare and he was looking for a secret you didn’t even know you had.

But then the dam broke. You just couldn't hold it back any longer, and tears welled up in your eyes. Your voice cracked as you spoke, “I’m sorry,” The weight of everything—Hank, the exhaustion, your relationship with Jay, the teenage girl—finally spilled over.

“Hey,” he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets and reaching for you. He pulled you into his arms and surprisingly, you felt relaxed. Safe, He gently stroked your hair, his fingers combing through it soothingly, “Come on, I’ll take you home. You’re not driving while tired,” he said, grabbing your hand and leaving no room for arguments. Not that you had the energy to argue anyway.

You nodded and allowed Hank to lead you to his car. The doors clicked shut as you settled into the passenger seat. The steady hum of the engine filled the silence, and the city lights streaked past the windows, casting a soft glow inside the car. You glanced over at Hank a couple of times before turning to the passenger window, focusing on the passing objects. You bit your lip when you shot a glance at him. Why does he have to be so handsome?

If he wasn’t Jay’s boss, you’d definitely go for it. You wanted him. You scoffed shaking your head. You felt like Eve in the Garden of Eden and he was the apple. You wanted another taste.

The car slowed and came to a gentle stop in front of the building and your sadness reappeared. You were probably the only one here feeling this way. He’d probably gotten over it the second you walked out the district. You probably were just a one night stand to him.

“I’m not a one night kinda guy,” Hank spoke suddenly, breaking the silence. Your head snapped towards him, causing a slight jolt of whiplash.

“I’m not a one night kinda girl,” you replied, managing a small, sad smile. You glanced out the window, dreading what he might say next, “If you weren’t Jay’s boss then, I totally would,” you added, your voice trailing off.

Hank turned to face you fully, one eyebrow raised, “Would what?” he asked, you looked at him, rolling your eyes when you notice the smug smirk playing on his face, “I would too, but it wouldn’t be fair to you,” you scrunched your eyes at him. Fair to you? What did he mean? “I come with a lot of baggage and… I screwed up your relationship with your brother,” he continued, the smirk fading into something more serious. His eyes flicked down to the steering wheel before meeting yours again.

You shifted in your seat to get a better look at him, resting your head against the headrest, “I come with a lot of baggage too,” you sighed, your gaze dropping to the bracelet on your wrist—a gift from Jay when you got the job at Gaffney. You fiddled with it absentmindedly, “As for Jay… neither of us knew,”

His expression softened as he looked at you, “We do know now, and I can’t stop thinking about you,”

Your breath caught in your throat. His quiet words lingering in the small space of the car. His gaze remained locked on yours as the dim interior light cast soft shadows across his face. His hands rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping lightly in an unconscious rhythm.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either but…”

“I know,” he nodded.

“Thank you, for the ride,” you said softly, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Your lips brushed against his skin, lingering just a moment longer than you intended. You pulled back slowly, your eyes catching his, and the space between you seemed to close. You could feel the warmth from his breath, and before you could speak, he leaned in slightly. Your lips met in a brief, gentle kiss.

Without a word, you leaned back in, your hand reaching up to cup the back of his neck. This time, the kiss was not gentle. It was hungry, a desperate bid to consume each other. You felt the tension in your body coil tightly as your mouths moved together, and a soft moan escaped your throat. and it seemed to add fuel to the fire that had just been lit.

You got out the car, "Jay!" you called for him, "Please, let me explain," your voice was shaky. You didn't know where to start.

Jay's face was a thundercloud as he stomped over, his eyes flashing with anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he spat out.

“Jay, please, just hear me out,” you said, stepping closer to him. Your eyes pleaded with him as you reached out to him. Tears forming in your eyes, “I didn’t know, he didn’t either… but” you paused, looking over your shoulder at him, “I…” you wanted to tell him how you felt but you thought it would make little difference.

Jay’s expression hardened, and a bitter laugh escaped him. It certainly wasn’t a laugh of amusement, but one of disbelief, “You what? Huh? You going to say you love him or something?” His words were laced with sarcasm.

“No, but…” you began, your voice catching as you tried to gather your thoughts.

Jay’s eyes narrowed, “What? Come on. You wanted to talk about it. Let’s talk about it then.” His arms crossed over his chest waiting for you to elaborate.

You took a deep breath, finding the courage to continue. “Jay, I’m not saying I’m in love with him, but I could be. I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. Not since...”

He cut you off, “Look how that turned out,” he said, his words heavy with accusation. “You divorced him because you found him in bed with someone else.”

The sting of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You flinched but tried to maintain your composure despite the raw pain of the memory. But you failed.

“I haven’t felt this safe in a long time,” you croaked out, Jay opened his mouth to speak but you didn’t let him, “53…” you said, confusing everyone, “I had 53 foster homes, some nice, some… not. I also had a brother,”

“Had?” Will asked, his voice was soft and gentle.

“H-he died,” you said, your voice quivering as if each word burnt your tongue. “Protecting me.” You took a deep breath, you didn’t really expect to have to talk about this again. the only person who knew was Herrmann after some guy outside the bar wouldn’t take no for an answer, “Our foster father… wasn’t nice. H-he used to um… mainly when Liam wasn’t around,” you paused, risking a look to your brothers, they knew what you were hinting at, “One day, Liam came home early and… tried to stop him. I-I lost him, and now I lost you too,”

Jay’s face paled, the anger in his eyes faltering at your words. Will stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight, comforting embrace.

You buried your face in his shoulder, your breath hitching with each shuddering sob. Will held you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. After a moment, Will pulled away slightly, gently wiping some stray tears from your now red cheeks.

Before you could fully process the moment, another pair of arms enveloped you. Jay pulled you into his embrace, “You will never lose me,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your hairline. You broke down again, this time in tears of happiness. Jay’s grip tightened, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be safe.”

As he pulled away, Jay glanced over your shoulder at Hank, who had been standing silently, observing the exchange. Jay’s eyes were fierce, the protective version resurfacing. “You hurt her,” Jay said, his voice was low, but steady, “I’ll kill you.”

“Wait… what?” you asked, completely caught off guard.

Jay sighed, his expression softening when he turned his attention back to you. “I don’t want to lose you either,” he started, a hint of vulnerability in his voice that he often hides behind his protectiveness. “You’re my sister. I just want you to be safe and happy, and I don’t ever want to see your heart break again,”

“You can’t protect me from everything, Jay," you replied softly, offering him a small smile, "But I know you'll try," you added, a light tease in your tone.

Jay chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, it's in the job description,"

“Hey, (y/n), how about you go out tonight? You had a rough night,” Will said, you looked at him your eyebrows scrunching.

“You kicking me out?” you asked, a fake pout on your lips, Will rolled his eyes, “I don’t think so, Will, I just wanna rest,”

"We could watch a movie, at my place?" Hank suggested with a shrug. You smiled, cuddling on a sofa with him? You thought about it for a bit. That sounds so enticing and doesn’t require any effort.

You glanced over at Jay, seeking his approval with a silent plea and the cutest smile you could muster. Jay sighed as he looked between you and Hank. He rolled his eyes, "Okay, go," he said, waving you off.

You squealed in delight, bouncing on the balls of your feet. You quickly leaned over to kiss Jay’s cheek, leaving a faint lipstick mark on his skin

“Hey!” Will exclaimed, feigning offense as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyebrows shot up in mock offence. You knew from the playful glint in his eyes that he wasn’t really offended but you played along anyway.

“Best twin brother ever,” you corrected with a playful grin, stepping over to Will. You leaned in and kissed his cheek as well, leaving another lipstick mark. Will chuckled, shaking his head. With a quick wave and a bright smile, you hurried back over to Hank’s car. The cool evening air nipped at your skin as you slipped into the passenger seat, the door closing with a soft thud.

As you settled into the passenger seat, Hank started the car, the engine purring softly to life. The glow from the dashboard lights cast a gentle blue hue over his face, highlighting his strong beautiful jawline. You looked out the window, watching the familiar streets of Chicago pass by, illuminated slightly by the dim streetlights.

It didn’t take long for Hank’s place to come into view. He pulled into the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. As you stepped out of the car, Hank extended his hand, you reached out and took it, feeling a comforting squeeze as your feet hit the pavement. Hank noticed your bag hanging off your shoulder, "Let me take that," he said, sliding the strap off your shoulder before you could protest. You smiled maybe you thought.

The two of you walked up the short path to his front door. Hank unlocked the door and held it open for you, stepping aside to let you in first out the cold.

Hank gestured towards the sofa, "Make yourself comfortable. I'll grab some drinks," He disappeared into the kitchen. You kicked off your shoes and curled up on the sofa, letting out a sigh as you feel the soft fabric against your skin.

A few moments later, Hank returned with some beers, you eyed the beer, “I don’t entertain much,” he spoke as he set them down on the coffee table and grabbed the remote, scrolling through the options. "Any preferences?" he asked, glancing over at you.

You shrugged, "Something light and funny?" you suggested. He nodded and picked a comedy, the kind that you could easily get lost in.

As the movie started, you found yourself leaning against him. The warmth of his body next to yours and the soothing sounds of laughter from the screen made you feel peaceful. You felt the tension of the day melting away.

Before long, the soft flicker of the TV and the warmth of his body lulled you into a state of peaceful drowsiness. Your eyes grew heavy, and despite your efforts to stay awake, you felt yourself drifting off. The last thing you remembered was the sound of Hank's low chuckle and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beside you.

As you dozed off, Hank noticed and gently pulled a blanket over you. He watched you sleep for a moment, a soft smile on his face, before carefully picking you up. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, but didn't wake up. Hank carried you to the guest room, laying you gently on the bed. He turned to leave, but you reached out, grabbing his wrist.

"Stay," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hank hesitated for a moment before he nodded. He slipped off his shoes, you could hear the faint sound of them hitting the floor before he carefully climbed into the guest bed beside you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. The cool sheets rustled softly as he settled in. You instinctively rolled over, your body drawn to his like a magnet. Your head found its place on his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt comforting against your cheek.

You could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, each breath a gentle motion that seemed to sync with the beating of his heart. As you nestled closer, the comforting warmth of his body enveloped you once more.

His arm wrapped around you, as if shielding you from the outside world. His fingers brushed lightly against your back. The soft, repetitive sound of his heartbeat lulled you into a peaceful slumber, your breathing slowing to match his.

[shesmyboot]

No Matter What

*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*

Pairing: Matthew Casey x reader

Summary: From Anonymous: Hellooooo ‘Stay behind me no matter what.’ Matt Casey :) ~~ Matt Casey + Reader + Fire Call = Hookups in his Quarters (I don’t make the rules)

Words: 682

Warnings: Intimate moment, canon typical events

Read on Ao3 here

Notes: Sorry it’s so short, but I hope you like it Anon!

Join my taglist here

Tags: @mrspeacem1nusone @kiddbegins @pensfan5871

__

“Need any help with the inventory?” Sylvie asked.

“I think I’m finished up,” you laughed, "you bored or something Brett?"

"I know I've only been in Chicago for a few months, but this is the first shift I've had with no-"

"I'm gonna cut you off right there before you jinx us. Those who say the 'Q' word or even think about the lack of runs is a jinx to the whole house."

"How do you know this?"

"Candidiate a few years back-"

Battalion 25, Truck 81, Engine 51, Squad 3, Ambulance 61, building fire, 723 North Wabash

"Looks like you are the new jinx, Sylvie Brett," you laughed, hopping into the passenger seat of 61, "and the jinx gets to drive."

Sylvie started the short drive to the scene, "how's it going with you and Casey?"

"Good, yeah, we're in a good place. It's weird to date someone you work with though. I'd never done that before Matt."

"Helps that your crazy schedules are synced."

"True that," you giggled, pulling up to the fire.

You hopped out of the rig and grabbed the jump bag before heading over to Boden.

"Where do you need us, Chief?" you asked.

"Two still inside, owner needs to be checked out."

As you and Sylvie tended to your victim, you could hear the commotion between truck and squad.

'Chief, I need a medic inside if you have one to spare' your radio buzzed. 

"You good here?" You asked Sylvie.

"Yup, go."

You threw your bunker coat on and grabbed the jump bag.

"Medic coming in now, Casey. Where am I going?" you said, hustling towards the fire.

"I'll come get you, we're turned around in here."

You stopped and waited at the door. 

"Fire is pretty much out," he announced, "follow behind me."

You followed Casey into the building and up the stairs. 

"Baby, I need you to stay behind me no matter what," Matt admitted, "I don't know what hapened in here and I don't want anything to happen to you."

You nodded and followed him up the stairs to the second floor of the building.

"Victim is over here. Burns and possibly a neck injury as far as we can tell.”

“Thanks. Conscious?”

“In and out.”

You leaned down beside your victim.

“I’m a paramedic, I’m here to help you,” you introduced yourself as you undressed the victim of his jacket. 

“Matt, you’re right. I’m worried about a neck injury. Grab the collar.”

Your boyfriend, now assistant, handed you your supplies.

“Help me get him out of here. It’s getting hotter in here.”

He nodded, picking up the jump bag beside him and handing it to you. 

“Got him?” You asked.

He nodded and brought your victim outside.

After finding Sylvie, you loaded up the victim while Sylvie got the oxygen ready for the ride to the hospital.

——

Returning to the house after your run, you looked in the ambo’s mirror.

“Brett, did you seriously let me ride around with soot on my face?” You laughed, trying to rub it away.

You walked into the now full common room with your partner.

“So are we finally gonna convince you to take the firefighter’s test?” Herrmann asked.

“Haha, very funny Herrmann. 61’s my home, always will be.”

“I’m sure we’ll get you over here at some point,” he chuckled.

You ducked out of the common room and into the bunk room, where you peeked into Matt’s office. 

“Got a minute?” You asked.

“For you? Always.”

You locked the door behind you.

“You know,” you laid down, semi-seductively, on his bed, “they way you said ‘stay behind me no matter what’ on that last call was-“

He leapt up from his chair and drew the blinds. 

“Was what?” He smiled.

“I was kinda sexy,” you grinned.

“Oh yeah?” He leaned in for a kiss.

“Yeah.”

“You know what else is sexy?” He broke the kiss for a moment, “you with all that soot on your face.”

“I guess we should do something about these feelings then, huh Matt Casey?”

“I think you might be right.”

[copperbadge]

Radio Free Monday

Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!

Ways to Give:

dancing-thru-clouds was recently hit with a surprise tax bill (she didn't realize her town had local income tax, and didn't receive the previous year's notice); she's adjusted her withholding to account for this, but still owes the balance from the past two years and is fundraising to cover the balance. You can give via paypal here.

stemmonade is a disabled Black trans person who relies on crowdfunding for survival since they can't work and their wife is currently unemployed; they are raising a little over $700 to cover rent and essentials in the meantime. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.

themerrymutants is a disabled queer man currently living on social security aid; he has recently had to travel to the emergency room several times for possible complications from a recent surgery, and is now short on rent because of the cost of transit. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.

Anon linked to a fundraiser for prototrans, a disabled artist who needs help with rent money; he is also offering commissions. You can read more, reblog, and find giving and commission information here.

Recurring Needs:

Anon linked to a fundraiser for a friend whose family has not had a working furnace since November; they've been using space heaters to keep warm but January in Chicago has been brutal and the space heaters aren't sufficient. With vulnerable family members including elderly relatives and children in the home, they need to raise $6K to get the furnace replaced. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

thelastpyler is raising funds for food and to purchase medication for their family; you can read more and find giving information here.

Eli is a disabled Michigander who cares for their elderly grandmother; they are applying for SSDI, but their car was damaged recently and is undrivable, with estimated $8K-$12K in repairs to make it drivable. They need transportation for doctor's visits and legal consultations for their SSDI appeal, and have no way to get around without the car. You can read more and reblog here or give at the gofundme here.

loversdoom is a college student from the Philippines, studying away from her family, and her parents are unexpectedly unable to support her education; she is in mounting debt and facing eviction from her dorm in her last semester of college. She's raising funds to repair her laptop so she can do her schoolwork and find a remote job that will help her pay rent, and to fund the remainder of her schooling. You can read more and reblog here and support the fundraiser here.

Anon linked to karla-hoshi or Hoshi on TikTok, who is raising funds for cancer treatment for her cat Naku; they caught the cancer early and hope that he can survive it, but can't continue treatment without funding. You can read more and support the fundraiser here, as well as find links to her updates on tiktok.

chingaderita's partner recently lost their job due to a house fire that also destroyed the house; they're raising funds to keep food on the table, to try and get a supply of water to keep clean and do laundry, and for various bills until they can find new work. You can read more, reblog, and support the fundraiser here.

And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form. If you're new to fundraising, you may want to check out my guide to fundraising here.

[bullet-prooflove]

headcanons 12. Grudges and vendettas (yes. yes this is just me giving you a reason to talk about how much natalie pisses him you off)

I feel like this could go on forever with Jimmy because he does not suffer fools, esp ones that fuck about with his wife.

Grudges:

Natalie – hates the fact she can’t do her job without getting overly emotionally involved often to the detriment of others. Is super pissed off when she tries to drag others into her drama, eg: Anita over Children’s Services queries, Will over the medical trial, Crockett over her feelings for Will, Jeff Clarke over her dead hubby.

Will – previous grudge – close friends now. – Absolutely hated his maverick attitude, felt like Will’s sole purpose was to make his life harder in the ED until… Those news rules got imposed preventing them from treating people who needed it, it really pissed Jimmy off that they couldn’t help people because of a financial factor. He really enjoyed Will’s creative application to the problem, also the way he handled the Matt scandal. It made him realise Will actually had the good of the patients at heart and it was more about doing what’s best for them than ego.

Anita’s mentor Danny,- if that man comes into the ED, he absolutely refuses to be the one treating him.

Social services in general for the way they treated his wife, basically using her up and spitting her out. For him it’s very much an example of how the system is completely broken.

The coffee guy from the café down the street who put his phone number on Anita’s coffee cup despite seeing the wedding ring. Jimmy will not leave a tip for this joker and will give him the most complicated order imaginable just to see him stress.

CFO of Chicago Med – He hates this guy, esp after the scrubs thing. He likes things run efficiently and that guy really fucked a lot of things up for them in terms of the supply chain and treating patients, to Jimmy that’s unacceptable. If they ever end up on the same elevator, Jimmy’s reminding him of the importance of patient care.

Connor Rhodes – mutual respect now – but at first he was pissed because Connor kept using the hybrid OR for shit it wasn’t meant to be used for and it was running up costs in the ED that Jimmy had to explain or make deficits for in the budget. When he very forcefully explained this to Connor who hadn’t realised this the two came to an agreement.

Jack Dayton – he hated 2.0 with a passion because it kept telling him what to do during surgery and despite knowing better he would argue with it. When he tried to explain the probs with this to Jack and Grace Song he was brushed off about his concerns because he know docs like Sam and Dean would go out of their way to avoid it’s backseat surgery.

Stevie Hammer – he will never forgive her for breaking Will’s heart a little. He was just starting to get back on his feet after Hannah, put himself out there a little and then she went back to a husband who didn’t love her, because he offered her a better medical position. For Jimmy it really showed her true self.

Maggie – initially because he found her nosy, but he understands now she cares deeply for the people around her and it’s done out of love. He was very sorry to hear about her and Ben and it put the shits up him a little, because to him they were the perfect couple and he never saw the divorce coming. He’s extra attentive to his own marriage after that.

Doris – He dislikes the fact she’s really gossipy. Him and Anita once had a very heated discussion she overheard and before lunch time, multiple people had made comments about the state of his marriage, offering him advice.

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 1-Rosaria Marie Leone

Summary: Chicago native, Rosaria Leone (leh-OHN), was stationed in Aldourne, England awaiting further instructions to her next duty location. She finally received orders to Bastogne after the 326th Medical team was captured on their way to the town by German soldiers.

The church in the town was converted into an aid station to lodge wounded soldiers that came in from the front lines, but with medical supplies running low and shortage of medical personnel, the Americans were in desperate need of more medics and nurses to keep up with the workload. To her surprise, she finds a few silver linings by befriending a local nurse, Renée Lemaire, and Easy Company’s medic, Eugene ‘Doc’ Roe. 

A/N: OC Introduction/Rosaria Marie Leone (leh-OHN), EugeneRoeX!FemMedic, WW2, Character introduction, Post D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Military Terminology, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Smoking, Mentions of death, Blood, Medical Terminology, Italian and French with English translations

Story takes place during Episode 6-Bastogne

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~ 

Bastogne September 1944 

“Rosaria Marie Le-Leeee-on-” the charge nurse, Agatha Hannigan began with difficulty, as she looked over her spectacles at the orders given to her by the young woman standing before her. 

“Leone.” The young lady articulated. She was used to people mispronouncing her last name. 

The older lady’s lips pursed into a thin line, clearly displeased with being corrected by a replacement. She scribbled a few things on the orders. The charge nurse looked back at the young woman, scanning her from head to toe with every ounce of disdain behind her eyes. 

“Why are you wearing soldier’s fatigues? Where is your ward dress uniform? And your apron and head scarf?” Hannigan snapped. 

“This is all I ever worn, ma’am. I’m a field medic, so this is my initial issued uniform.” she explained. 

Hannigan sniffed at her, then wrote a few more notes on the orders. 

“Alright, Rosaria Leone-” 

“It’s just Saria-” 

 “-you and Renée report to me and I report to LT Doc Ryan.” she explained paying no mind to Saria’s statement. 

Saria sighed, “Yes, ma’am.” 

As she followed Hannigan, they approached a young nurse stirring a large metal pot hanging over a pit in the fireplace. The smell of the steam proved it wasn’t any kind of food she had been mixing but used bandages that were being laundered. 

“Renée-” Hannigan bellowed. 

The girl turned upon hearing her name. She met the charge nurse and Saria halfway as she dried her hands on her apron. 

“-this is our new nurse, Rosaria Lenonni, just in from Aldourne.” Hannigan introduced. 

Saria rolled her eyes but remained silent, not bothering to correct her again. 

Renée extended her hand, “Bonjour! (Hello!)” she greeted in French. 

“Buongiorno. (Good morning.)” Saria returned in Italian with a warm smile shaking Renée's hand. 

“You speak Italian?” Hannigan asked. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Hm, a lot of good that’ll do you here. You do know you're in Belgium, right? Renée, you got her from here.” Hannigan snipped, waving her hand as she walked away. 

“Oui. (Yes).” Renée replied turning back to Saria, “-Don’t mind her. You’ll get used to her.” she whispered with a grin. 

“I’m sure.” Saria responded. 

“Viens avec moi (Come with me), I’ll show you around.” Renée gestured to Saria to follow her. 

~~~~~~~ 

December 1944 

The months flew by and before Saria could blink, a layer of snow covered the grounds in and around Bastogne. She quickly befriended Renée and the other Congolese nurse, Anna. Together, they worked side by side tending to the wounded, and endured the aftermath of what happened outside of the Church/aid station when soldiers were brought to them. The horrors of blood and gore came in overwhelming waves, but Saria, Anna and Renée worked through the carnage as a team to do what they needed to do to save the men that were brought to them.  

More often than not, soldiers have succumbed to their injuries because medical supplies were becoming scarcer. There was very little of everything they needed, and it seemed more and more men were being brought to them daily. They were unable to evacuate the wounded or receive medical supplies due to heavy German advances. Not only did the Germans prevent escape for the injured, but they also captured the 326th Medical team and integrated them into their own medical team to tend to their wounded soldiers.  

“Lost another one today.” Renée said to Saria as she sat next to her on a pew against the wall. 

Saria shook her head, “Seems to be happening more often, doesn’t it?” she acknowledged. 

“Peut-être (Perhaps).” Renée replied as she reached into her apron pocket pulling out a half-wrapped bar of chocolate. 

She removed the paper and broke off a piece, handing it to Saria. 

“Chocolat?” she asked. 

Saria looked at the candy in Renée's hand and smiled weakly as she took it from her. 

“Merci.” Saria thanked. 

“Prego.” Renée returned in Italian, “Your French is getting better!” she added. 

Saria laughed, “You don’t have to be nice about it, Renée, I know it needs work.”  

“No, I insist! Your practicing is paying off, mon ami (my friend).” Renée encouraged. 

“Well thanks to you.” Saria pointed out. 

As they sat there enjoying the sweet treat, a handful of soldiers came in with an injured man on a stretcher, as a medic walked in after them. 

Renée and Saria rushed to the men with the injured soldier. 

“No, no. Here. Put him here.” Renee instructed. 

“Yes, ma’am.” the head soldier carrying the stretcher obliged as they lifted him onto a bed. 

“Is he bad?” Saria asked the medic. 

“No, lower-leg wound. No morphine.” he replied in a deep calm voice. 

Renée took a quick look at the right leg then nodded. 

“I’ll get more bandages.” Renée relayed to Saria. 

Before Renée could leave the medic was following her, “Nurse, have you got plasma I can--?” 

“Wait. Please.” Renée urged before disappearing into another room. 

The medic furrowed his eyebrows, discouraged by Renée's response. Saria felt a wave of guilt for him.  

She looked back at the soldier on the bed that they just brought in, “What’s your name, soldier?”  

“They call me Skinny.” he responded with labored breathing. 

“I’m Saria. We’ll get you squared away, ok?” She reassured him with a warm smile. 

He nodded with a forced grin since he was obviously in pain. She covered him with a blanket and turned to the same medic standing alone in a doorway watching Anna pack a thigh wound of another soldier while Renée assisted. 

The medic turned to Saria, “Hey, what’s going on here? Why aren't these men being evacuated?” 

Saria was a little taken back by his dismayed tone. 

“We can’t evacuate. We’re cut off, this is far as it goes.” she replied as she side stepped him to get to Renée and Anna. 

~~~~~~~ 

Renée and Saria had returned to Skinny with a bottle of liquor and a glass, pouring him a hefty amount to drink as a pain remedy. 

Skinny looked up at the two nurses then looked at the medic, “I think I’m in heaven, Doc.”  

The medic smirked briefly. 

As Renée and Saria began walking away, the medic called after them, “Nurse-” 

“This way.” Renée said, as she motioned him to follow. 

The medic walked along side Saria while they followed Renée to the rear of the church where all the supplies were being stored at an extravagant altar. 

“I need Morphine. I need bandages. Whatever you got. We’re down to nothin’.” the medic explained. 

“Ok, I can give you a little, but not a lot.” Renée replied gravely. 

Saria picked up a small wooden crate filled with IV bottles, syringes, and a few syrette cases. 

“You can have this today. Do you want that?” Saria asked him. 

“Oui. You got plasma?” he questioned urgently. 

“A little. Are you a surgeon?” Renée queried. 

“No. We don’t got no surgeon.” he replied with a bit of sting behind his voice. 

Saria placed a handful of torn cloth into his crate, “What’s this?” he asked, holding up the bulk of cloth. 

“From the beds.” Saria replied. 

“What, sheets?” he clarified. 

“Yes, for bandages.” 

A look of shock appeared on the medic’s face as he stared at her. 

“It does the job.” Saria said with a soft smile and a shrug. 

He nodded, placing the bandages back in the crate. 

He stood tall before Renée and Saria when they were done packing the crate with supplies,  

“Merci.” he thanked in a low honeyed southern accent. 

“Prego.” Saria responded. 

The medic shot her a look of confusion, tilting his head studying her like a puzzle. 

“Comment vous appelez-vous? (What do you call yourself?)” the man asked Saria and Renée. 

Renée looked at him, then looked at Saria expectantly waiting for her to reply. 

“Go on, this is a perfect time to practice, mon ami. (my friend).” Renée encouraged Saria. 

Saria’s eyes flitted between Renée and the medic,  

“Uh-” was all Saria could manage until she heard Renée again. 

“Tu peux le faire, mon ami (You can do it, friend).”  

Saria took a deep breath, “Je m'appelle Rosaria Leone (My name is Rosaria Leone).”  

A smile tugged at the corners of the medic’s mouth. 

“My name is Renée.”  

“I’m Gene. Eugene Roe.” 

“Where are you from?” Renée asked Eugene. 

“Louisiana. Half-Cajun. Et toi? (And you?)” he returned. 

“Bastogne.” Renée answered. 

Eugene looked at Saria. 

“Chicago.” 

His eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. 

“Oh, I thought maybe you-” 

“No, I’m American. My parents were born in Tuscany, Italy.” Saria explained. 

“I see.” he discerned. 

There was a brief silence before he nodded at Saria then turned to follow Renée to the exit. 

“Arrivederci, Eugenio. (Goodbye, Eugene).” Saria called after him in Italian. 

Eugene turned while still walking away displaying a coy smile. 

After some time, Renée returned from showing Eugene out. Her cheeks were rosy, and she wore a subtle smile as she mindlessly stirred the boiling pot of bandages.

“Renée?” 

No response. 

“Renée?” Saria said again a little louder. 

Renée looked at her startled, “Oui?”  

Saria laughed, “You were gone for a good couple of minutes. Où étiez-vous? (Where were you?)” Saria stated. 

Renée smiled, “I caught up with our new friend to give him some chocolat.” 

“That was nice of you, Renée.” 

“You can see in his eyes he’s seen some awful things. He needed to be shown some kindness.” Renée explained. 

~~~~~~~ 

It wasn’t the last time Renée and Saria saw Eugene Roe. The second time he had visited, Renée and Saria were frantically trying to stop a soldier from bleeding out from his mid-section. As Saria tried to pack the wound where the source of the bleeding was while Gene had been wiping the blood away so she could see where the artery was. The soldier expired leaving Renée, Gene, and Saria disheartened and lost in their own thoughts.  

Saria sauntered towards the spiral staircase to the main entrance so she could go outside to get some air. Eventually, Renée and Eugene joined her. Saria sat by a pile of broken furniture in front of the church, with her face buried in her hands. Renée sat next to Saria draping an arm across her shoulders pulling her in for a side hug. 

“Ça va mon ami? (Are you alright, my friend?)” Renée asked. 

Saria only nodded; not even sure she really was ok. 

Eugene observed each of their hands. Saria’s hands, bruised with remanence of the soldier’s blood after failing to wash all of it off her knuckles and nails and Renée's hands bearing the same appearances. Renée pulled a new bar of chocolate from her apron pocket and began tearing away the paper.  

She broke off a section, nudging Saria, “Tiens, belle amie (Here, beautiful friend).” 

Saria accepted the chocolate, “Vous êtes trop gentil. (You’re too kind).” 

Renée offered Eugene the candy, but as he took it from her, he smiled. 

“What?” Renée asked. 

“Your hands.” Eugene gestured to her and Saria. Saria slowly looked up at him. 

“Our hands?” Renée reiterated. 

He nodded, “You’re good nurses.” he complimented. 

Renée looked at her hands, “No. I never want to treat another wounded man again. I’d rather work in a butcher’s shop.” 

Eugene’s eyebrows drew inward hearing her statement. 

“But your touch calms people.” he defended, “That’s a gift from God.” he added. 

Renée shook her head, “No, it’s not a gift,” she flipped her hands over to look at the back of them, “God would never give such a painful thing.” she proclaimed. 

“Renée, you don’t mean that.” Saria insisted. 

“Oh, mais je le fais, mon ami. (Oh, but I do, my friend).” Renee said with a weak smile. 

A jeep pulled up with yet another wounded soldier, “Nurse! Nurse! We need some help over here!” 

Renée looked over her shoulder, “Stay and rest awhile longer, mon ami. I’ll take care of this.” She said to Saria as she gave her an encouraging hug before she stood up and ran off. 

A moment of silence passed before Eugene spoke again. 

“Is that how you feel, too?” he asked her. 

Saria sighed, “No. I don’t.” she replied confidently shaking her head before meeting his gaze. 

“Glad to hear it.” he affirmed with a slight smile as he looked back down at the candy bar in his hand. 

Saria folded her hands in her lap. 

“Comment se porte ton français? (How’s your French coming along?)” Eugene quizzed her with a mischievous grin. 

Saria looked at him alarmed, and slightly embarrassed. She rubbed the back of her neck and began to blush. 

“Oh, uh-” she began, “-tellement, tellement (so, so.)” she replied. 

Eugene chuckled, “I've heard you do better than that.” he declared, “Tell me something new you’ve learned. Peut-être que je peux aider. (Maybe I can help.)” he offered. 

Saria felt heat rise from her collar. 

“Ce serait généreux de votre part, Eugène (That would be generous of you, Eugene),” she managed to say, “-merci.” 

“Prego.” Eugene answered modestly in Italian with a welcoming smile. 

Saria laughed aloud at his playful response. 

“Guess I could return the favor and teach you some Italian.” she suggested. 

“Sure.” Gene allotted. “Guess I’ll be heading back to the line then. See ya around, mon ami.” He stood and ran towards the jeep to hitch a ride. 

Saria watched the jeep speed off with Eugene in the front seat, saying a silent prayer to herself for him to be safe when he makes it to the front lines. 

~~~~~~~ 

Christmas Eve 1944 

The third run in with Eugene, he brought in an Easy Company soldier, with an IV already applied. As they carried him in setting him down onto a cot, the receiving medic, Jones, began hounding Gene for the man’s information. 

“Where’s his tag?” Jones looked all over the man’s person, then looked at Gene again, “Where’s his tag?” 

Eugene stared at his buddy lying on the cot unable to move. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Jones pushed. 

Eugene looked at him calmly, “Paralyzed.” he responded simply. 

“What?” Jones asked. 

Eugene sighed, “He’s paralyzed. Can’t feel a thing.” he clarified. 

Renée saw him from across the room, “Eugene?” 

Gene looked at her, his spirits lifted the moment he saw her smile. 

“Eugene.” Renée greeted him. 

“Renée-” he replied with frail delight in his voice. 

“Are you-” Renee started to ask before she was interrupted. 

“-Renée, I need some help over here!” Jones called from the back. 

“Are you all right?” Renée continued as she walked towards Eugene. 

“Renée! We need you!” Jones called again. 

She looked towards the rear of the church where Jones was then huffed in frustration. She met Gene’s disappointed expression, gave him an apologetic smile then scampered off. 

“Bonjour, Eugène.” Saria greeted. 

“Bonjour, Rosaria, mon ami. (Hello, Rosaria, my friend),” he returned with a fleeting smile. 

Saria looked Gene over, “You ok?”  

He met her concerned guise with soft tired eyes, “Oui.” he responded plainly. 

Saria gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “Je suis toujours là, mon ami. (I’m always here, friend.)” Saria reassured him. 

He looked at her and nodded, “Merci, mon ami.” he replied managing a genuine smile. 

Saria returned a smile then proceeded past him. 

“Oh, and Eugene-” she called back to him. 

He turned to her. 

“Joyeux noël. (Merry Christmas.)” she projected somewhat cheerfully to him, sending him a wink before he could reply. 

Eugene smiled to himself, feeling that bit of warmth in his heart that he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

~~~~~~~ 

Eugene returned to the line, only to have to go back to Bastogne to bring LT Welsh to the aid station that night. Upon entering the town, everyone was in a panic, running to find cover from an imminent German air raid heading towards the town.  

Upon hearing the siren alerting the town of the attack, Renée and Saria began assisting the wounded who tolerated the ability to move to evacuate the church.  

On the other side of the town, Eugene could see the enemy aircraft approaching. He started to race towards the church to see if Renée, Saria, and Anna had been able to reach safety. As he sprinted towards the aid station, the bombers passed overhead releasing shells on every building in their wake until one hit the church, releasing a mushrooming blast from the steeple. Another bomber deploying a bigger explosive, shattered the foundation of the stone building, sending it to shambles to the ground below. 

Eugene stopped in his tracks, shielding his eyes from the piercing light from the blast. Frozen from shock and disbelief, his mind began piecing together the possibility that Renée, Saria, and Anna were still in the church during the bombing. To this thought, he began running again, pushing through the crowds to reach his friends. 

~~~~~~~ 

Eugene searched relentlessly for the three nurses. As dawn approached, he began to lose hope. He had asked everyone he bumped into if they had seen Renée, Saria, or Anna. Everyone he asked either hadn’t known the whereabouts of any medical personnel or had conflicting stories of who made it out or not.

Just when Eugene was ready to give up, he saw a familiar figure sitting on a pile of stones that had collapsed from the church. As he cautiously approached, he recognized the face of this young woman seated before him. 

“Rosaria?” He addressed the woman with strain behind his voice. 

Saria turned slowly; her bloodshot eyes met his hopeful face while tears trailed through the dirt on her cheeks. When she saw it was Eugene, her tear flow increased beyond her ability to see. 

“Eugene.” she gasped as she tried to stand to meet him. As she did, she lost her footing on the gravel. 

Eugene snaked his arms around her, pulling her into him so she wouldn’t fall forward. 

“Hey, now! Je t'ai eu (I got you).” he exclaimed. 

He helped her stand up right, pulling her square to him so he could talk to her. 

“Are you ok!?” he asked. 

“I-I’m alive.” Saria stuttered. 

Eugene kneaded her shoulders with his hands. 

“Et Renée? (And Renée?) Anna?” he dared to ask holding Saria steady by the shoulders. 

Saria looked away from Eugene and began to sniffle. Eugene waited. 

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a blue head scarf and handed it to him. He took it from her, realizing it was the same one that Renée had worn. 

He stared at the blue cloth in his hand as everything began to sink in. 

“We-” Saria tried to explain but her overwhelming anguish had her struggling to speak, “-we were evacuating as many men as we could. Renée had----gone back inside to find Anna right before the first shell dropped on the church-”  

Eugene redirected his eyes onto Saria. He swallowed hard, biting back the tears he felt building up. 

“When the first bomb hit, I tried to go in to get her...then the second one hit blocking the entrance to the church. I couldn’t get to them, Eugene.” Saria whispered, staring over his shoulder reliving the horrific scene as if it was replaying in front of her on a movie screen. 

She started to shake her head, “If I had only gotten there sooner-” 

“No,” Gene placed a hand on each side of her face bringing her attention to him, “what happened to Renée and Anna is not your fault. You hear me?”  

Saria’s tears spilled over like waterfalls.  

He pulled her into his chest, allowing her to sob into his jacket as he stroked her hair. 

“Ssshhh,” Gene soothed, “Je suis là, belle amie. Je suis là (I’m right here, beautiful friend. I’m here.)” 

~~~~~~~

[viceroywrites]

(art from veluv_art on picrew)- i love writing but have very little drawing skills so this is all i got 🥺

introducing my gravity falls oc/self-insert, (dr.) cecilia dela rosa

headcanons and backstory drabble ahead

age when she first met stan: 27 - current age: 58

fun facts about her:

her hair is graying so she decided to lean into it and dye her front bangs gray and keep the rest black with strands of gray

filipino-american

has two older sisters - experienced a lot of competition and comparisons between her and her sisters

lowkey almost dropped out of med school and thought about becoming a mortician

shameless hcs between her and stan:

she fell for stan bc of his humor and his recklessness - he helps her let her hair down and live a little and she keeps him in check

if stan hadn't made the decision for her, she would've totally bailed him out of jail

kept and wore a gold chain that stan left at her apartment for months after he left

lectures him about drinking pit soda all the time... but has a stash hidden in her office

right back where we started from & come on eileen are their songs

nicknames: cilia, cil, angel (stan kept making the joke that she fell from heaven the night she bandaged him up)

-

stan had just been driven out of idaho after yet another scam and was going by hal forester at the time still.

stan had gotten a bit too drunk at a bar downtown, got into a fight with someone. cecilia, in her first year of med school, just so happened to be walking back to her apartment after a night out with friends when stan was kicked out of the bar, with a few bruises and gnarly cut across his cheek.

cecilia rushed to help him out, insisting they go to a hospital. not wanting to get caught and have to leave illinois already, stan protested going to the hospital. perplexed but stubborn, cecilia said in a huff that she had medical supplies to bandage him up back at her place but insisted on no funny business.

stan wasn't one to say no to the free offer.. especially to a pretty lady.

the two ended up hitting it off that night & stan, as a thank you, insisted on buying cecilia dinner - that dinner being a chicago hot dog stand. that dinner quickly turned into a friendship.

their hot dog stand dinners slowly became dates & after stan pulled the classic move at her apartment while watching a scary movie and putting his arm around her, she returned the gesture by snuggling up to him.

stan began to open up about his past and trouble with the law. surprisingly, cecilia had a relaxed reaction, wanting more than anything to help stan gain some stability back in his life.

"why don't you get a job as a bouncer? you got the muscles for it." cecilia commented with a playful grin, squeezing his bicep.

stan was practically on cloud nine from the praise but shrugged, "can't, toots. moment they do a background check, i'm done for."

cecilia gave him a deadpan look, "you think any of the seedy dive bars around the college are gonna do that? they're probably doing illegal shit themselves."

stan blinks before pulling her in by the cheeks into a kiss, "cilia, baby, you're a genius!"

"well, i am in med school."

stan ends up landing a job as a bouncer for a bit and things were looking up. until one day, the law catches up to him. on the way to work one day, stan spots a police car in front of the bar and overhears them questioning the owner outside, a wanted poster of him in hand.

stan books it in the opposite direction. his survival mode is on and he knows he needs to split town. and quick. packing his bags and loading his car, he realizes he has to leave cecilia behind. he hurriedly scrawls out a note on the back of a receipt and stops by her apartment, dropping it into her mailbox as well as a reminder of him.

cecilia comes back to her apartment after class, checking her mail to see the note.

'hey angel,

i had to skip town, cops showed up at the bar and i can't afford to get caught and end up in jail... again. i'm really sorry to do this to ya but thanks for believing in me and giving a nobody like me a chance.

you're gonna do great things and you got a whole future ahead of ya. i don't wanna drag you into this mess.

thanks for everything, maybe someday we'll meet again.

stan.'

cecilia's heartbroken, holding the note and a photo the two of them had taken during a fancy dinner she treated them to in celebration of his new job.

despite the heartbreak, she finishes med school, gets married... then divorced and decides to move out to west for a change of scenery.

cecilia works at a local hospital a few miles out from gravity falls - they end up reuniting after stan throws his back out while helping mabel and dipper with their suitcases when they came back to visit for the summer.

stan reluctantly agrees to go after much pestering from his brother who is baffled by the fact that stan has not had a check up in years.

as he's waiting, having changed into those uncomfortable paper gowns, cecilia blinks at the name on the chart, in disbelief - a name from her past. it must be a different stan pines... right? she thinks to herself as she heads over to the patient room.

she knocks on the door and hears a gruff voice that's unmistakable, "yeah i'm decent."

she opens the door and blinks as she's greeted to the man who had left her behind years ago. "stanley pines?" she questions, trying to remain professional.

"yeah that's me, doc." stan says, not recognizing her at first, "listen, i haven't been to a doctor in ages. pretty much, i threw my back out and it's not getting any better."

"mind if i take a look?" cecilia asks, sliding on her gloves as she makes her way around to stan's back. her hand trails down his back, pressing down softly before hitting the tender spot that causes him to hiss.

"yup, that's it." stan mutters and cecilia can't help but laugh, throwing caution into the wind, "you know you've had this issue with your back since you were in your 30s."

"right? i swear no doctor has said anything about it!" stan complains but pauses, "wait how do you know that?"

"long time no see, stan. not sure you recognize me after all these years... does the name cecilia ring a bell?" cecilia grins, taking a seat on the stool before wheeling over to the computer.

it takes a second before stan realizes who's in front of him. "cecilia? cecilia from chicago?" he says in disbelief.

"that's me - though i go by dr. dela rosa nowadays." cecilia chuckles, typing things down into his chart.

"god, it's been so long..." stan chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, "hey.. i'm sorry for ditching you back then. i-"

"you don't have to explain yourself, stan. i was upset but i understood the position you were in. i'm... just glad you're alive and well.." cecilia sighs with a sad smile.

"ah jeez, cilia... sorry if i scared you. a lot's happened since we last saw each other.." stan admits.

"well... i'd love to catch up." cecilia says, pausing before turning to face stan, "take me out to dinner and i'll consider forgiving you."

stan blinks at her forwardness before breaking into a huge grin, "i know just the place, you got yourself a deal!"

stan ends up taking her to greasy's dinner where he catches her up on his life - reuniting with his brother, dipper and mabel, his travels on the stan o war II.

(sorry if this is cringe - i'm a sucker for rekindled romance)

[azurethevampire]

Could you write one for Chicago Med where whoever your OC is/reader (idk what you write for🤣) gets sick/injured and has to come into the hospital and tries to avoid someone specific? Whoever they avoid is up to you!

First, I want to remind everyone that you should not wait to see a doctor if you're in pain. Stay safe, you all <3

•-•-•-•-•-•-•

“This is stupid”, you grumbled. The heat of your words was taken out by the gasp of pain that followed. “I don’t need a hospital.” 

Your best friend gave you a look and rolled his eyes. “Sure” he drawled out, half-dragging you through the doors to Gaffney Chicago Medical Center. “Remind me again which one of us is going to be the nurse in a few months?

“What… has that… have to do with… anything?” 

Despite the fact that you were sweating and panting, you forced your head to turn left and right, eyes taking in the lobby of the emergency department for any familiar faces. 

“I’m not going to let you burst your appendix because you're too stubborn!” Then, much to your horror he raised his voice. “Anyone give me a hand?”

You hissed. “Stop it!” Your eyes frantically moved around the room. You could see Ethani and Maggie in one of the rooms. “Look, I’ll let you take me… to any other hospital – Ow, fuck!” 

You breathed in sharply, the curse leaving your mouth as there was a sharp jolt of pain in your stomach. 

“Y/N?”

That concerned voice you’d recognize anywhere. Your friend did too as he quickly spun you two around – his arm at your waist being the only thing keeping you upright.

“Hi, Will”, you grasped out. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” The questions came out like rapid fire, his eyes darting between you and your friend, demanding answers even when he was already closing the gap between you. 

“Nothing’s wrong”, you managed to push through. 

“Stomach pain”, your friend – unhelpfully, you might add – supplied to your brother earning an elbow to his side from you. That didn’t stop him, “I think it’s the appendix.”

Will’s frown deepened at your friend’s words as his hand came in contact with the clammy and hot skin of your forehead. You met his searching gaze with a feverish and fearful look of your own. Will knew why. 

“It might be just a bad case of stomach flu”, he said, trying to soothe you. 

You swallowed against the tickle in the back of your throat, willing your eyes to stop welling up despite the burning in your tear ducts. 

Will took your hand in his and squeezed, before pulling you to his side, taking your weight off of your friend who looked confused.

“Stomach flu? Are you sure, the symptoms–” 

“It can’t be the appendix”, Will stopped your friend. He started helping you move, calling out for April who was passing by and asking if there was an empty bed. April nodded, concern etching to her features as she recognised you. 

“What?” Your friend asked, quickly catching up with you. 

“It was taken out when I was fourteen”, you replied through gritted teeth and then yelped as Will helped you down on a bed the movement agitating the hurting spot in your stomach. 

“Sorry, sorry”, Will said, grabbing your hand and giving it a quick kiss. “We’ll find out what’s wrong, Bean, I promise.”

“I tried to avoid you”, you said quietly, tightening your grip on his hand. You weren’t sure if you were talking about coming to the hospital right now, or about this morning when you had locked yourself to your room until Will left for work despite his attempts to get you eat breakfast with him. 

“Your stomach already hurt this morning, didn’t it?” Will asked, a hint of anger fueled by frustration clear behind the dominant worry for you. 

The guilty look on your face was enough of a confirmation for him. 

You wiped at your eyes with a shaky hand. “I’m scared”, you admitted. “Doesn’t feel like a stomach flu, Will.” 

“You let me be the judge of that, alright, Bean?” Will said, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll find out what’s wrong and we’ll fix it.” 

There was a finality in his words. Enough that you didn’t argue against his words even if you knew that not everything could be fixed. You just hoped that wasn’t the case this time.

[bracketsoffear]

Survivor Type (Stephen King) "One of the few short stories that even King thinks he went a little too far on.

From Wikipedia: "Survivor Type is written as the diary of a disgraced surgeon, Richard Pine nee Pinzetti, who, while attempting to smuggle a large amount of heroin aboard a cruise ship, is forced to escape when an explosion causes the ship to sink. He relates growing up poor in an Italian-American neighborhood and playing college football (which he hated) to get into a good college and then went on to medical school and in time a successful practice until his illegal distribution of prescription medicines and blank forms led to the loss of his license. He arranged to smuggle heroin from Vietnam to make a large amount of money, which would then be distributed for bribes that would enable him to return to practicing medicine. While encountering a storm in his empty lifeboat, Pine finds himself marooned on a tiny island in the Pacific Ocean whose exact location is completely unknown to him, with very limited supplies and no food. A self-proclaimed "survivor" type, Pine bitterly whiles away the time by using a logbook as his diary, detailing his rise and fall in the medical profession and his determination to survive this ordeal, get even with the people that "screwed him over," and return to prosperity.

Over time, the diary entries become more and more disjointed and raving, revealing Pine's slow mental decay and eventual insanity caused by starvation, isolation and drug use. Determined to hold out for rescue, he goes to horrifying lengths to survive. He eats insects, kelp and seagulls. After fracturing his ankle while attempting to signal an airplane, he amputates his own foot, then realizes he has to eat it to survive. He continues to amputate his own limbs to use as a food source, ingesting the heroin as a crude anesthetic during these operations. His last few diary entries, barely comprehensible, indicate that Pine has sliced off and eaten both legs, as well as his earlobes, and drools uncontrollably as he ponders which body part to consume next. The diary entries end when he cuts off his left hand to eat it and writes "lady fingers they taste just like lady fingers.""

The Jungle (Upton Sinclair) "The Jungle is the story of Jurgis Rudkus and his family, Lithuanian immigrants who come to America to work in the meatpacking plants of Chicago. Their story is a story of hardship. They face enormous difficulties: harsh and dangerous working conditions, poverty and starvation, unjust businessmen who take their money, and corrupt politicians who create laws that allow all of this to happen. The story follows the hardships of Jurgis and his family and the transformation that Jurgis undergoes when he accepts the new political and economic revolution of socialism.

The novel's most notable impact at the time was to provoke public outcry over passages exposing health violations and unsanitary practices in the American meat-packing industry during the early 20th century, which led to sanitation reforms including the Meat Inspection Act."

"He lived like a dumb beast of burden, knowing only the moment in which he lived."

"They use everything about the hog except the squeal."

[medical-shipment-llc]

Introduction to the Pyxis MedStation ES for Nursing Schools

[callivich]

Gallavich Tropes: End Of The World

Prompts for fics, headcanons, or discussion, art, etc. Interpret these however you like and feel free to use them as just a jumping off point, you don’t have to stick to the exact prompt! If any fics like any of these have already been written, please feel free to recommend them to me!

It’s the final transport out of the zombie-ridden South Side. Mickey is more than ready to get the hell outta dodge. But when he sees the Gallaghers, he notices that one is missing - Ian. When he asks what happened, Fiona says they don’t know…just that he said he couldn’t go without something. Or someone, Mickey thinks. Through some fucked up chain of events, Ian is staying behind to find Mickey. Well fuck…..Mickey hugs Mandy goodbye and jumps off the transport. Everyone is in shock but Mickey doesn’t have time to dwell on that, he needs to find Ian. ASAP.

Who would have thought the end of the world would be boring? At least, it is to Mickey. Nothin’ but a lotta waiting around for the final day. And if they’re all gonna die….he might as well do whatever he wants. That means hooking up with the hot redhead he’s seen around the neighbourhood. He’s always pretended to ignore Ian but, now? Well, he’s got nothing to lose. They enter into a very hot sexual relationship but then the world doesn’t end. And suddenly all those fears Mickey had, that disappeared when he thought he was gonna die? Well, they’re back in full force.

Demons everywhere, there’s no stopping them. The government advice is to stay indoors at night and to be careful around strangers. The thing is, Ian is an EMT and he’s high risk of encountering a demon. But so far, he’s been ok. He tells Mickey he has nothing to worry about. Until, one night, Ian doesn’t come home and Mickey is forced to go out into the night and find Ian.

When Ian hears that the street the Milkovich house is on has been declared a ‘no go zone’, he’s heartbroken. Those zones mean no survivors. But he just can’t believe Mickey and Mandy are gone. Then he gets a text message from an unknown number. Mickey’s alive and he needs Ian’s help…..

It’s been a whole year since Ian ran away to join the army and in that time the world’s gone to shit. The apocalypse is raging and the army is getting its ass kicked. Ian is now an officer and when the government reintroduces the draft, he finds himself training a group of conscripts - one of which is a very familiar face. Mickey hates being conscripted into the army but he’s extremely pleased to see Ian again.

The remaining residents of the South Side have banded together to defend their neighbourhood from monsters. When they begin to run low on supplies, they draw straws to decide which one of the adults will venture into the unsafe areas of Chicago to gather more provisions. Mickey is chosen and he’s not bothered about going alone - he’s not scared of what’s out there. As he’s about to leave, a very eager Ian Gallagher turns up and volunteers to go with him. He barely knows the guy and doesn’t fancy playing babysitter to someone who probably knows nothing about fighting. But Ian is dead set on coming with him and he turns out to be tougher than Mickey imagined….

When the apocalypse hits, Ian knows he has to get back to Chicago - where things are very, very bad. He’s long since lost track of Monica and he misses his family. Only problem is, he’s several states away and there are no cars heading towards Illinois because no one wants to drive towards the danger. He fears he’ll never be able to hitchhike home. That is, until a beat up vehicle finally stops and gives him a ride. The driver, Mickey, is also heading back to Chicago. As they make their way to their home city, they start to fall in love. But what happens when they finally get there? Can their new relationship survive as they have to fight for their lives?

As if the end of the world wasn’t bad enough, Ian has been kidnapped by Terry Milkovich and is forced to provide medical care to his injured son, Mickey. With hospitals impossible to get to, Ian is one of the few in his neighbourhood with any medical experience. The last thing he wants to do is look after a (probably) homophobic and (definitely) cranky Milkovich. But the more time he spends with Mickey, the more he begins to like him….

Cities destroyed, the world rebuilding….it’s a strange time to be alive. Two person teams are put in place to explore and record certain areas deemed to be dangerous. It’s easy work for good money. Ian is excited to do his job and do it well. But he’s paired with a guy who seems to be a wild card. He’s not interested in rules or what they’re supposed to be doing. No, Mickey wants to go outside of their zone and try and find anything worth selling. Ian finds himself following, if only to make sure Mickey doesn’t die. As they make their way through the broken city of Chicago, just the two of them….Ian finds himself more and more attracted to Mickey’s special brand of recklessness.

When the apocalypse happened, Mickey - like many other children - was shipped off to a foster home outside Chicago. He vaguely remembers his siblings, but life in the middle of nowhere with Ned has been basically all he knows. As the world starts to rebuild, Mickey is now a teenager heading into his twenties. When Ned hires a worker of a similar age to him, things start to change on the farm. Ian ran away from his foster home and has lived a much different life to Mickey in the dangerous city. However, he wants to try and get a proper job. But neither of them can ignore the instant attraction and they struggle to understand their new feelings.

Just as Ian is reunited with Mickey in prison, the world goes to shit. As the outside world breaks down, the prison guards are recruited to fight and the prisoners are left to fend for themselves. Mickey thinks their next steps should be obvious - grab what they can use and run far away from the danger. But there’s one problem - Ian needs to know the rest of his family are safe. Reluctantly, Mickey agrees that they should see if they can find them. But will they find the rest of the Gallaghers? Or will their reunion be cut tragically short?

Mickey finds himself awaking from a coma in an abandoned, half destroyed hospital. The world has changed drastically since he was last conscious and he has no idea what has happened. Ian, meanwhile, is taking his regular trip to the hospital where he gathers supplies and checks on the last coma patient on tenth floor. He’s shocked to see the man who he’s been caring for is awake and not only that, he wants to get the hell out of there and that includes away from Ian. But Mickey doesn’t realise how things have changed and he’s not prepared for what’s out there.

Holed up in a grocery store, Mickey doesn’t think there’s anyone left alive nearby. When he finds an old radio, he turns it on just for the hell of it and is surprised when a voice comes through. The man introduces himself as Ian and says he’s also barricaded in a safe place alone. They talk and for the first time in a long while, Mickey doesn’t feel so lonely. When Ian suggests they meet up and work together to survive, Mickey isn’t so sure. In fact, he’s rather paranoid - can he trust Ian? Or will this guy take one look at all Mickey’s supplies and just kill him for it?

Post s5/s6. When the apocalypse hits, both Ian and Mickey try to find each other despite being broken up. But they can’t. Sometime later, Ian is running low on his medication and seeks out various black market dealers but none can help. When Mickey, who is dabbling in the black market, hears of this request for certain medications - he is instantly on alert. The medications are very familiar and he wonders if the person looking for them is Ian. Curious, he sets up a meeting and is overjoyed when he sees it is Ian. However, things are not as straightforward as he hoped - Ian has a boyfriend. Between that and the apocalypse, can they find their way back together?

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the Chicago Tribune:

Despite widespread understanding of the health and environmental damages caused by forever chemicals, manufacturers continue to win federal approval to synthesize new versions of the toxic compounds with little, if any, government oversight.

U.S. Sen. Dick Durbin wants to begin shutting off the tap by outlawing per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances, commonly known as PFAS, unless they are used in medical devices or other essential products.

Legislation introduced Thursday by the Illinois Democrat would give manufacturers a decade to phase out most uses of PFAS and eliminate air and water pollution that for now is largely released from factories without limits.

The bill also would attempt to prevent corporations from seeking protection under bankruptcy laws to avoid lawsuits seeking compensation for health damages.

“PFAS surround us,” Durbin said. “They are in the pots and pans we cook with, in our drinking water supply, in the air we breathe.  We must act to ensure that harm brought on by these forever chemicals is mitigated.”

This is the latest of several measures introduced in Congress to address PFAS problems across the nation. Most likely will not make it through the Senate and House of Representatives in a period of divided government, but Durbin and other top lawmakers often manage to include their priorities in broader, must-pass legislation such as the annual budget for national defense.

Pioneered after World War II by the global conglomerates 3M and DuPont, forever chemicals have been added for decades to products featuring brand names such as Scotchgard, Stainmaster and Teflon. Industry has promoted PFAS as miracles of science, but since the late 1990s lawsuits have revealed that 3M and DuPont hid from regulators and the public what the companies knew decades ago about the harmful consequences.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Say Anything Interview: Intentional Is My Default

Photo by Nicole Mago

BY JORDAN MAINZER

I'm waiting back stage at Riot Fest for Say Anything's Max Bemis to finish a photoshoot, one that sees him lie in the grass in various positions that make it look like he's stretching after a tough workout. Despite the fact that he hasn't yet gotten his real workout in yet--his newly reformed band would go on stage in a few hours--and that this photoshoot is full of capital-p Poses, I'm taken by how at ease Bemis seems with everything. When we speak, he reveals to me that, yes, while he did in fact feel awkward during the photoshoot--most of us do--he's learning to lean into his feelings much more naturally.

Five years ago, the legendary emo band disbanded, with their 2019 album Oliver Appropriate billed as their final LP for the moment. A purported sequel to their beloved sophomore record ...Is A Real Boy, the album was publicized in conjunction with a nine-page letter from Bemis, in which came out as bisexual and admitted to struggles with drug use. (The frontman has long been open about his diagnosed bipolar disorder, previous self-medication through drugs, and manic episodes.) During the pandemic, Bemis stayed busy, performing livestreams of older material, but there was always lingering doubt the band's hiatus would become permanent.

It wasn't until late last year that Bemis dropped that the band would be reuniting for festivals in 2023. In typical nonchalant fashion, he shared that the reunion would include past members drummer Coby Linder and bassist Alex Kent by replying to someone's comment on a Facebook post. In April, the band released their first new material since Oliver Appropriate, the maximally stream-of-consciousness rant "Psyche!". The song sees Bemis laying out those same struggles for everyone to bear witness to, blaming himself for his personal, marital, and familial problems atop a bevy of references to the band's older material, Titanic, and Riot Fest itself. "By Riot Fest '24, I'll be coughing up corks if you supply the Malörk," he sings, a line that's instantly iconic and bound to be infamous for its satiric misspelling of Chicago's shot of choice. In August, the band followed it up with "Are You (In) There?", which also establishes itself within our emo universe, with mentions of Sunny Day Real Estate and mewithoutYou, but a more personal ode to Bemis' wife and the love they have for each other despite his past actions and shortcomings. And just this morning, Say Anything annouced ...Is Committed (Dine Alone), their new record, along with a single entitled "Carrie & Lowell & Cody (Pendent)", Bemis placing his "mommy issues" in conversation with those of indie folk luminary Sufjan Stevens. The song is musically heavier and more complex and full-throated, while also containing gorgeous choral harmonies from Bemis' wife, Sherri Dupree-Bemis.

At one point, the future of the band was a mystery to everyone, Bemis included. But with some newfound perspectives, the musical and personal influence of new band member Brian Warren of Weatherbox, and therapy, it seemed from just the short conversation I had with Bemis and Kent that they're in a good place, ready to embrace their new chapter. Read my interview below, conducted last month before I knew about their new album, edited for length and clarity. Catch the band three nights next week at The Regent Theater in LA and at When We Were Young in Las Vegas next weekend.

Photo courtesy of Say Anything

Since I Left You: How does it feel to be back?

Max Bemis: It feels great. I don't think I would have decided to write the songs again if I didn't aspire to how this feels now, which is very different than our experience as little kids being in a punk band, which was very intense and an experience I wouldn't trade for anything. But this is comfortable, and it feels like having the best job ever, in the words of Piebald. It could have been a stress fest, anxious, or bad, but the only reason I wanted to write again was to reach for this thing that we never got to settle into, being dads approaching 40. The bands we looked up to were doing it at that age and still making inventive music but still seeming to chill and not base their entire personas and aspirations around being in a band. I think I appreciate it more now that I'm not trying to be "a guy in a band" as hard as I was.

Alex Kent: Something we've been talking about since getting back up and running was the transition from utilizing it as an escape versus a form of healing. Because we've been through so much traumatic shit in our lives, most of the time Max and I talk, we talk about therapy. It's fucking weird going from 18 years old on a tour bus to having that self-awareness and reflection.

MB: I didn't need it like that for many years because our entire life cycle was keyed in to being on tour. I wasn't living a normal person life. I'm not saying I ever have really or ever will--I wrote comic books for five years. That's still weird. We're still weirdo guys. Having a family, coming out of that kind of circus, I feel more like my 14-year-old self who needed this music for that reason.

SILY: The new songs have a self-aware quality.

MB: More than ever.

SILY: How do you include the self-awareness in a set at a festival or concert, where you're literally referring to other songs you're playing in the setlist?

MB: We refer to Riot Fest itself!

SILY: And Malörk [sic]

MB: And Malörk. It's incredibly self-referential and ironic, but because the band started that way, it's come full circle and is no longer ironic at the same time. There's still a lot of exaggeration and bullshit, but it's closer to me saying actual things that are happening. As you age, everyone's life becomes a circus, more surreal. The world has been very surreal, with COVID and Trump. You kind of have to say your inner experience now. It's an emotional, crazy, surreal thing anyway. It's not like before, when I said, "I have to think about my ex-girlfriend, but I'm thinking about my wife, and what the fuck is this about?" Now, this is about being at Riot Fest. And I am at Riot Fest.

SILY: There is a song about your wife, though.

MB: Yes. Also quite literal. So many emotions are certainly exaggerated, but the sincerity isn't. The love for my wife is very real. But even there, if you're in any successful relationship, it goes through the most intense rebirths and reformations, and you're adjusting to each other, especially after having kids. It's more potent to me to say what's happening or what my emotions are than do what we did on In Defense of the Genre, where I was literally forcing drama into my life on a regular basis. Now, I have no room. I'm tired. I have children to look after. The drama just happens from kids, life, everything. It's real and heartfelt, but a seasoned emotion and not so adolescent. I still love those songs, and I relate to them, but they all speak to a certain side of me I can't live out anymore.

SILY: Do the new songs more than ever exemplify the idea that the more personal you are, the more universal the songs can be?

MB: Yeah. But probably by being a little too hyper-specific. That's why I fell in love with this kind of music. Saves The Day got me into wanting to be in a band. What wowed me was when he was talking about the names of the other band members in song, like, "Ted's drooling on his sleeve." He's just saying he's in this New Jersey bar and he misses his girlfriend. He's not cloaking anything. Our thing has been a kind of parody of that, but now I don't have to stretch anything for it to be a parody.

Photo by Ben Trivett

SILY: What do you think Brian Warren brings to the table on the new songs?

AK: I've known Brian since we were 9 years old. Our very first band, we were in together.

MB: I wouldn't know about Weatherbox if it wasn't for Alex.

AK: He brings this calming energy. Humble is a weird word to describe him.

MB: It's accurate.

AK: Weatherbox is fucking amazing.

MB: He has more impostor syndrome than even me.

AK: He can play everything, and he writes cool shit.

MB: He's a virtuoso. The cool thing about Brian is that there's always been a connection between our bands. It's similar to me playing music with [Chris] Conley [in Two Tongues] back in the day. It's surreal, but it makes so much sense that you don't have to think about where he fits into the sonic picture or personality picture because we're friends.

AK: It's very cool how much sense it makes.

SILY: Has your relationship changed to your old songs?

MB: I like them more. Over the break from the band, I would listen to Say Anything, with my kids or in my car, alone. The way I severed it was so intentional. I wasn't saying, "The band was over." I was saying, "We're probably going to get back together, but I have to sever this incarnation." I was listening to [old Say Anything songs] and thinking, "I like Alex's bass part. I like the production. I even like my voice." It was like listening to another band, because of the space. I've grown to like them. I definitely know people in bands that are not what they listen to, but Say Anything has always been a conglomeration of the type of thing we listen to. If I'm going to listen to The Get Up Kids, I might as well listen to Say Anything.

SILY: Moving forward, are you trying to continue to be more intentional, or do what feels best?

MB: Both. I know that's cliché to say, and it does and doesn't make sense. I find that intentional is my default, and before, I would second-guess myself constantly. Now, I allow myself to make mistakes, and I let other people give me advice that before were such cerebral trips. There was a lot that weighed on me. If the lyrics are super intentional and literal, I'm just going to do it. If I feel awkward in a photo shoot like right now, I'm just going to be awkward in the photo shoot. That is, of course, my safe and happy place in life.

[catdotjpeg]

Dr Tammy Abughnaim, an emergency physician, says that since her first visit to Gaza in March, Israeli forces have made conditions in the enclave “orders of magnitude worse”. The doctor, who recently returned to Chicago after three weeks at Gaza’s Nasser Hospital, told Al Jazeera that the hospital’s emergency department also handles the vast majority of non-trauma related issues revolved around displacement — heat exhaustion, dehydration, skin lesions and infections, poor wound healing, and malnutrition, she said. “Israel has made it impossible for doctors to offer solutions to any of these problems by actively preventing any substantial aid from entering Gaza,” she said. “Our WHO [World Health Organization] delegation was told by Israeli authorities that we could not bring medical supplies with us, just one bag of our personal belongings, and that violation of this absurd new rule would result in the rejection of the entire emergency medical team.” Abughnaim, who was part of an emergency medical team organised by Medical Aid for Palestinians and the International Red Cross, called for an immediate ceasefire and arms embargo on Israel, saying it is “the only safeguard for civilian life in Gaza”.

-- "‘We need source control,’ physician says after working in Gaza" by Virginia Pietromarchi, Stephen Quillen and Mersiha Gadzo for Al Jazeera, 28 Aug 2024 17:10 GMT