#intensive treatment unit

[choithramhospital]

Life-Saving Expertise at CMH Hospital in Freetown: A Look at Our Intensive care unit Services

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[ttreatmentcenter]

Transcendence Treatment Center - Substance Abuse Treatment, Charleston, SC

Transcendence Treatment Centre provides comprehensive information on Substance Abuse Treatment in Charleston, SC, including the types of therapies we provide and the credentials of our staff. Because of our clientele and clear centre, those seeking help with substance misuse can simply obtain the information they need to determine the best path of treatment.

[chvoswxtch]

A fic where reader likes Aaron but is like 20 years younger than him (I checked the math, even at the start of the show, he was 43 so that wouldn't have been weird. Unless u find that weird? Pretend i said 10 years if that weirds u out) and she thinks she doesn't have a chance with him and that he wouldn't even consider her. And so she just pines over him with the unrequited crush blues. Maybe hotch seems to "baby" her and be extra protective of her so she chalks it up to being the baby of the team. Meanwhile he does not view her as a baby. At all. And maybe he doesn't even realize he treats her any different. Angst welcome! Definitely romance

She/her pronouns for the fic if u want to do it please 🙏 and thank u 😁

– Zee

MY DARLING ZEE

I have been SO excited to post this one, so thank you for requesting it. as usual, I got carried away, but it's daddy hotch so I apologize for nothing

enjoy ;)

warnings: swearing, lots and lots of angst word count: 4.5k

baby.

Furious didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt currently. The entire cabin of the jet was thick with tension radiating from your barely concealed rage, and for a split second you felt guilty, because the team’s discomfort was more than palpable. But as your gaze wandered to the opposite end of the jet and you caught sight of the culprit of your vexation, brooding heavily in your direction, any sliver of remorse evaporated from your pores and your eyes instantly hardened in response.

Fucking Aaron Hotchner.

Hotch’s thick dark brows were pinched together, creating a crease of annoyance right between them, and his lips were pressed in a line that was harsher than usual, causing his frown lines to settle even deeper into the skin around his mouth. His deep umber eyes were void of any warmth, and there was no evidence of faint mirth creasing around them. Instead his lethal gaze was cold as steel, and as rigorous as stone.

You had seen a more intense version of that look several times before whenever he interviewed unsubs that made monsters look like fairytales, and normally it sent a chill down your spine. Not because you were scared of your boss; quite the opposite actually. Every time you watched him stare down the worst of humanity with an aura of disinterest and a hard glare that showed he was completely unimpressed, you found yourself more and more attracted to him. Especially on the rare occasions when he lost his temper and ended up slamming his hands on the table while yelling in their face. You found that incredibly hot. 

From the day you met Hotch for your interview, you had found him attractive. Intimidating as hell, but attractive. The fact that he was your boss didn’t deter you from developing a little crush on him, or the fact that he was a widower with a six year old son. None of that stopped the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach every time he gave you a tiny bit of praise in the form of a “good job”, or a simple nod of approval. In fact, the more Hotch warmed up to you, the worse your little crush got.

You found yourself grinning whenever someone made him crack the tiniest of smiles, and nothing fueled your ego more than his quiet snort whenever you said something he seemed to find funny. Hotch surprisingly had a great sense of humor when the stress of being the unit chief of the B.A.U. wasn’t looming over his head. He could be stubborn and closed off sometimes, and he wasn’t always the best with words, but you could tell by his actions that he truly cared about his team. Unfortunately for you, his treatment revealed exactly how he saw you. 

The baby of the team. 

It was no secret that’s how the rest of the team saw you too. Derek had been teasingly, but affectionately, referring to you as “Baby Spice” since your first day because you were by far the youngest member of the team and beyond feisty. Spencer even joined in with the nicknames, jokingly calling you “kid” with a proud grin now that he was no longer the youngest, even though there was less than a five year gap between the two of you, which Rossi constantly reminded him of with a smack to the back of his head. At a certain point you realized that Rossi just enjoyed messing with Spencer, but you still grinned at him in appreciation every time he came to your defense.

Even though you were far from being a child, Hotch still treated you differently than the others, which did not go unnoticed by anyone. He was far more protective of you, not allowing you to go anywhere alone when the team was working a case, and he hardly ever wanted you in the interrogation room with unsubs. Only after Emily backed you up, insisting it was important to your training, did he finally allow you to interrogate. But it was under the strict condition that he was always the one in the room with you. He never allowed you to enter a crime scene or a suspected location of an unsub first, and the first time you got injured while on a case, resulting in the tiniest of a cut above your eyebrow, Hotch forced you to take a leave of absence for two weeks.

You made it three days before you burst into his office and demanded that he end your leave.

He didn’t.

Because of the way Hotch seemed to “baby” you, it resulted in the rest of the team doing it too. Emily and JJ weren’t as bad about it, but they definitely put themselves in front of you anytime a situation got dangerous. Derek and Hotch were by far the worst and the most obvious about being overprotective, but Spencer and Rossi weren’t far behind. The only one that ever treated you as an equal was Garcia, and that’s why she was your favorite.

And the only one you confided in about your little crush on your boss. Although, you were sure Emily and JJ had caught on by now. They always flashed you a teasing smirk and a little wink anytime they caught you silently pining.

But that was what seemed to solidify that you would never have a chance with Hotch. Not that he was your boss, or that he had traumatically lost his wife, or that he had a young son, or even the fact that he was a good twenty years older than you. It was that he seemed to view you more as a helpless child than a capable woman.

As soon as the jet landed, you were the first one off. You could hear Hotch’s shoes stomping along the floor of Headquarters right on your heels. While you stopped at your desk to drop off your go bag, fully prepared to get your shit and leave, his angry march continued up the stairs towards his office, but he never once took his irritated glare away from your figure.

“Y/L/N, my office. Now.”

Gritting your teeth hard, you turned your head to shoot daggers in his direction, but he had already disappeared into his office. Disregarding the sympathetic concern from your coworkers, you furiously made your way up the stairs and made a dramatic show of slamming the door to Hotch’s office forcefully behind yourself, which in turn made his eyes narrow into vehement slits as he looked at you. He straightened his back, squaring his shoulders while he stepped around his desk to stand a few feet away from you. He looked absolutely pissed, but you were too lost in your own rage to care.

“You were completely out of line-”

“Oh, bullshit! I was doing my job-”

“I gave you a direct order and you ignored it, putting yourself and the entire team at risk.”

Hotch’s voice rose in volume when you combated his critique, and even though you had spoken over him first, the fact that he was now doing it to you only fueled your anger further. You took a bold step forward and glared up at Hotch as you grit your rebuttal out through your teeth.

“I saved that kid’s life-”

“By being reckless! You could’ve gotten him killed. You could have gotten killed. Don’t you get that?”

“But I didn’t! No one got hurt, so what the fuck is the issue-”

“The issue is you.”

Hotch’s comment quickly halted the verbal punch you were about to throw, and as you glared up at him, you noticed that his nostrils were flaring with fury and that his darkened eyes were wild and blown open with pure unbridled rage. The sting of his words caused the wildfire flaring inside of you to shrink to the dull roar of a fireplace blaze. Crossing your arms over your chest in a sign of defiance, you lowered the volume of your voice and layered it with acidity. 

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

Hotch narrowed his eyes, which seemed to be glowing with resentment, as he took another step towards you, faintly cocking his head to the side.

“Excuse me?”

He was giving you an opportunity to correct yourself. But one thing Hotch hadn’t seemed to learn about you was that you could be just as stubborn as he was, and once you reached a certain stage in your wrath, you didn’t back down. You went straight for the jugular.

“If it had been you, you wouldn’t have called it ‘reckless’. But because it’s me, you flip out and blow the whole fucking thing out of proportion because you treat me like I’m a goddamn child-”

“I wouldn’t treat you like a child if you didn’t fucking act like one.”

At this point, there was barely an inch of space between you and Hotch, and you had to tilt your head back slightly just to return his scowl. He might as well have thrown gasoline on the fire with that comment, and you were suddenly completely fed up with no one in this goddamn building viewing you as a grown fucking woman.

“If it had been Derek, or Emily, you wouldn’t be giving them shit like this. You would’ve given them a slap on the wrist, but still acknowledged that they got the job done. So why do I get treated differently-”

“Because you’re not as good as you think you are, and you’re certainly not as good as them.”

That simple statement hurt worse than if Hotch had physically struck you across the face with the back of his hand. All the fury within you suddenly fizzled out, and you stood there dumbstruck while Hotch let out an exasperated exhale through his nose and turned away from you to walk around the corner of his desk and plop down angrily in his chair. He opened the file currently sitting in front of him and directed his irritated attention solely to the pages, reaching for a pen from the holder to his right to wrap his fingers around. He didn’t even look up as he barked out his next order.

“You’re suspended for three weeks. When you return, we’ll discuss your behavior and your future here at the B.A.U.”

Everything felt like it had suddenly come crashing down around you, and you found yourself wondering if it was all worth it. The stress of the job, the never ending hours, the horrors you saw day in and day out, but especially the treatment you received from Hotch and the others. You started to wonder if you had tricked yourself into believing it wasn’t harmful and had all come from a good place, but now you weren’t so sure anymore. For the first time since joining the B.A.U., you found yourself wanting out.

Swallowing the pieces of the lump that threatened to form in your throat, you lifted your chin slightly and spoke in a quiet but firm voice.

“No.”

Hotch quickly lifted his gaze to glower up at you, the thickness of his brows making him appear angrier from where you stood above him. However the second he caught the look on your face, his eyes softened considerably and he sat up straight, the semi permanent frown on his lips vanishing into a subtle line. His eyes followed the movement of your hand while you pulled the gun from the holster at your hip and sat it down in front of him on the desk, along with your badge. There was a brief flash of panic in Hotch’s eyes when he looked at you again, and his lips parted slightly, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“I quit.”

Turning around to solemnly leave his office, you ignored the gentle pleas of your name leaving his lips. As you descended the stairs, the team’s heads perked up in curiosity, their gazes darting between your melancholic movements while you gathered your things, and the sight of a frantic Hotch rushing down the stairs like a man on a mission.

“Agent Y/L/N, do not walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”

Realizing that he was getting nowhere by being authoritative, Hotch let out an exasperated deep exhale through his nose and lowered the volume of his voice, speaking in a far gentler tone.

“Y/N we have to talk about this, you can’t just leave.”

You didn’t bother looking at any of them as you began your walk towards the elevators. You could still hear Hotch following closely behind you, and all of a sudden Derek’s large figure appeared in front of you. He dipped his head slightly to capture your eyes, the confusion on his features melting into pure concern as he glanced over your shoulder at Hotch before looking back at you. He held his right hand out towards you as if he were extending an olive branch and tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Whoa, what’s goin’ on Baby Spice? C’mon, talk to me.”

Derek was speaking to you in that gentle manner that he used when he wanted to show a victim that he wasn’t a threat. There was no doubt he could see the sadness and defeat glistening in your eyes, but you didn’t have the energy to rip open the wound any further.

“I’m going home. Please move.”

That was all you could manage to weakly get out as you attempted to step around him. But Derek, being Derek, wasn’t having it. He reached out to gently place his hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll drive you.”

“I can drive myself.”

“Baby-”

“I’m not a child, Derek. I don’t need your help, can you back off?”

Derek’s warm gaze widened considerably, and his neat onyx brows rose up his forehead in complete shock. You had never exploded on him like that, or any of the others for that matter. But right now all you wanted to do was get the hell out of there.

“Let her go.”

Derek glanced over your shoulder to look at JJ in pure confusion, but she gave a slight shake of her head while holding his gaze with a firm look in her ocean blue eyes, giving him a nonverbal cue to sit this one out. After a moment of hesitation, Derek removed his hand from your shoulder and took a step to the left to unblock your path. 

The entire team was silent while watching you disappear behind the elevator doors.

»»———　　———««

A subtle but firm series of knocks at your door roused you from your sleep. Squinting at the clock on your bedside table, the lime green numbers read ten twenty-three pm. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. As soon as you had walked through the door of your apartment hours ago, you kicked off your shoes and crawled in bed, your mind spiraling about what you had just done and what it meant for the future.

When the knocks grew more impatient, you threw your comforter off with an irritated huff and got out of bed, exiting your bedroom to make your way to the living room to figure out who the hell was knocking on your door this late. However when you swung the front door open, your unexpected visitor was the last person you expected it to be.

Aaron Hotchner.

The darkness under his eyes was more prominent than usual, and his neatly cropped hair looked messy, as if he had been stressfully running his fingers through it. The permanent scowl he normally wore was missing from his lips, and there was a faint flicker of concern highlighted in his eyes. The first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, and his merlot colored tie hung loosely around his neck.

He looked exhausted.

Instead of speaking, you arched one of your dark brows, silently asking for the reason for his impromptu visit. As he shifted awkwardly to his other foot and cleared his throat, you realized you had never seen him look so unsure of himself.

“May I come in?”

Part of you wanted to slam the door in his face, but a bigger part of you was curious to know why your former boss had shown up at your door unannounced at ten thirty at night. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you stepped aside to allow Hotch to pass by you. The second the door shut with a soft click and you turned around to face him, there was already a blanket of irritation tugging his features down. He didn’t even give you a chance to question his presence before speaking.

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

A dry laugh instantly escaped your lips, and a soft furrow settled between your brows while you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Wow, you’re really good at this whole apology thing, huh?”

“I’m not here to apologize. I’m here to be honest with you, and the honest truth is you’re a huge pain in my ass. You’re stubborn, emotionally reactive, not to mention combative-”

“Then why the hell did you hire me-”

“I’m not finished.”

Hotch was speaking in that firm authoritative voice he used whenever he wanted to make it crystal clear he wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or push back. Despite your burning desire to lash out again, you bit your tongue and settled for glaring at him instead.

“You are constantly acting like you have something to prove-”

“Because you make me feel like I have to, Aaron. You, and the rest of the team, make me feel like I have to prove my worth every fucking day. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? Or how much that makes me doubt myself?”

“Do you ever stop talking long enough to listen to someone else speak?”

Tension hung in the small space of your living room like a heavy and dense fog. Hotch observed you silently for a moment as your frustrations lingered in the air while you refused to meet his eyes. There was an unreadable expression on his face, and he seemed to wait until he could tell your emotions had leveled out slightly before speaking again.

“I admired your compassion.”

Perplexity twisted up your features as you stared across your living room at Hotch.

“What?”

“You asked why I hired you. That’s why.”

He made it sound like it was the most simple statement in the world, but it only added another layer to the cryptic labyrinth you were trying to navigate.

“I don’t understand-”

“When I reviewed your case work with you in your interview, I was impressed by your attention to detail. But I was even more impressed that when I asked you questions about the victims you had worked with, you gave me personal details about them, not just black and white facts that were in their file. You remembered things about them. You humanized them instead of speaking about them like a statistic.”

All you could do was blink at him in surprise. That was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. Sensing that a calmness had settled over you, Hotch took a cautious step forward and continued.

“You know just as much about the victims of notorious serial killers as you do about the serial killers themselves. Every solution you have to a problem is led with people in mind, trying to minimize casualties. You speak about victims like people, not numbers or objects. You put everyone’s feelings, and safety, before your own, and that is both the best thing about you and the worst.”

The sincerity in Hotch’s voice caught you off guard, and for a moment you weren’t sure what to say. He spoke to you in the soft voice you had once overheard him speaking to Jack in on the phone, and that caused a fluttering feeling inside your stomach. But it also added to your confusion. If he thought so highly of you, then why did he treat you the way he did?

“Why are you so different with me?”

Hotch let out a deep exhale through his nose, dragging his palm down his face slowly before loosely gesturing to you with his hand.

“Because it’s my job to protect you.”

“No it isn’t.”

It was Hotch’s turn to stare at you in puzzlement, his thick brows knit together in the center of his forehead. Running a hand through your hair in slight irritation, you shook your head slowly.

“I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I applied for this job. I knew it was dangerous-”

“My job as the unit chief is to keep my team safe-”

“No, Aaron. It’s to lead us. We all knew the risks when we joined. There is only so much you can control, you of all people should know that. I know you try to look out for us, but you don’t treat the rest of the team like you treat me. And I get it, okay? I am the youngest on the team, but I’m not a child-”

“I don’t think you’re a child.”

Hotch looked even more perplexed by your words, his head tilted to the side slightly while looking over at you.

“Y/N, your age has nothing to do with the way I treat you-”

“Then what is it?”

That uncertainty was once again shining in his eyes. It looked like Hotch was struggling internally with which version of his truth he wanted to give you. The revelation about your age not being a factor in his treatment filled you with a sense of relief, but also left you with more questions than answers. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Hotch’s face softened considerably as he took a few steps closer towards you.

“I…I care about all of you, and I don’t want to see anything happen to any of you.”

The intensity of his eye contact caused a slight shiver to nip at your spine, and it seemed like there was a hidden meaning to his sentence; something deeper. 

“You…care about me?”

The tiniest of smirks tugged at the edge of Hotch’s lips, and his eyes had lightened in color with pure amusement.

“You know, for one of my most brilliant profilers, you’re pretty bad at this. Should I be concerned?”

Warmth bloomed in your cheeks hearing the faint tease lingering at the edge of his question. Hotch had never been this laid back and playful with you before. It almost sounded like he was…flirting?

Your eyes widened slightly while staring up at him, an overly dramatic gasp leaving your lips.

“Was that…a joke? Did you just make a joke? Are you feeling alright? Should I call a doctor?”

Deciding to test the waters, you brought your hand up to place the back of it against his forehead before moving it downwards to place against his cheek, as if you were checking his temperature. All of a sudden, a huge tooth bearing grin stretched across his lips, and your breath caught in your throat.

He was smiling.

Aaron Hotchner was smiling. 

He gently grasped your wrist in his large hand, his grin fading to a miniscule smirk while his gaze became a little more intense.

“Actually, smartass, I’m having a bit of a rough night. One of my best profilers quit on me earlier. Although in her defense, I was kind of being a dick.”

“Kind of?”

“Don’t push it. I’m already doing something I normally don’t.”

“Which is?”

“Begging for forgiveness.”

Hotch hadn’t let go of your wrist, and either your mind was playing tricks on you, or he had somehow gotten closer. There was barely a centimeter separating your chests. Him telling you not to push it only made you want to do it that much more, and since you had already technically quit, you decided to throw caution to the wind.

“I don’t hear any begging.”

The mirth in Hotch’s eyes darkened into something you hadn’t seen before, and for a moment you were nervous that you had crossed a line. It felt like he was staring directly into your soul, searching for some answer that would determine his next move. 

“You are by far the most frustrating woman I have ever met.”

Woman.

Hotch thought of you as a woman, and that caused a bright grin to stretch across your lips.

“Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either, but I still like you.”

Hotch’s grasp on your wrist tightened slightly at the end of your sentence, and a look of surprise flashed across his face before his eyes returned to that darkened look you couldn’t decipher. 

“Is that so?”

His voice was low, but firm, and the sultriness of it nestled comfortably between your inner thighs. All you could do was subtly nod while staring up at him, watching as he leaned in meticulously and painfully slow.

“If I’m reading this wrong-”

“If you’re reading this wrong, you’re a terrible profiler.”

You weren’t one to wait for action, so before he could respond, you reached up to grab onto the back of Hotch’s neck and pulled him down to press your lips against his in a tentative kiss. At first he tensed up, but then you felt his body physically relax, and a soft hum sounded in your throat when he snaked his arm around your waist. Reluctantly pulling away, he gently brushed his nose against yours and whispered.

“So, I’ll see you in the office Monday?”

“Mm, no.”

Hotch pulled back so he could stare down at you in pure perplexity, and you grinned at his facial expression.

“No?”

“I’m suspended, remember? Three weeks, I think it was?”

Hotch’s lips formed into a thin line as he stared down at you, the amusement previously lingering in his eyes completely gone. You couldn’t help but laugh, lightly shoving him away from you with your palms against his chest.

“Hey, you decided my sentence.”

“You were being a brat-”

“And now this brat has a three week vacation. I’ve been meaning to take a trip anyway-”

“Actually, I haven’t filed any paperwork, so you’re not officially suspended, and you’re still a current employee. I’ll see you on Monday, Agent Y/L/N.”

The demanding tone of his voice made you bite down on your bottom lip, and you leaned back against your kitchen island while arching one of your brows in challenge and crossing your arms across your chest with a playful smirk on your lips.

“You don’t wanna see me before that, sir?”

The way you used his title clearly had an affect on him, and you suddenly realized that the emotion eclipsing his eyes was pure lust. He slowly reached his hand up to tug at the loose knot on his tie until it came undone around his neck completely, and he slowly approached you with a wolfish grin.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee

[jppres]

Drug utilization in patients with SARS-CoV-2 in an intensive care unit

Image: Flickr Article published in J. Pharm. Pharmacogn. Res., vol. 10, no. 6, pp. 977-985, November-December 2022. DOI: https://doi.org/10.56499/jppres22.1460_10.6.977 Miguel Sevilla Méndez1, Ana M. Téllez López2, Giovanni Gómez Barragán3, Ivette Reyes Hernández2, Claudia Velázquez González2, Isis B. Bermúdez Camps2* 1Departamento de Servicios Farmacéuticos y la Unidad de Cuidados Intensivos…

[creativitytoexplore]

One twin lost his life to RSV, now his parents are waiting to find out if his brother will survive the same illness | CNN

One twin lost his life to RSV, now his parents are waiting to find out if his brother will survive the same illness | CNN

CNN  —  Less than three months after welcoming twin boys, Amanda and Ed Bystran lost one of them to RSV – now they are hoping their other son recovers from the same virus. Amanda Bystran gave birth to twins Brodie and Silas on August 15. “We couldn’t wait for them to arrive. My older kids were just so happy they were going to have babies in the house,” said Amanda Bystran, who has four other…

[curated-tiktok]

OP: wizard_bisan1 posted: March 23 2024. link

visual description: Bisan, an arab girl with black curly hair, standing in the street wearing a hoodie. In the background there are four story tall buildings that are white. A couple people are walking in the background and some cars and horses are moving past. One of the cars is an ambulance with the flag of Palestine and the flag of Kuwait. Two red signs with white writing can be seen but the text is blurry.

During the video 3 different pictures are put up on screen. First a photograph of Muhammad al-Nunu. Later two from a news article about the israeli soldiers attacking, one showing the soldiers and one showing a brown tanks, there is text in Arabic. Another of three boys carrying a dead person.

transcript:

Hey everyone, this is Bisan from Gaza. It's the day 69 after hundred of the genocide and the day 13 of the holy month of Ramadan.

And it's the day six of the besieging and invading of Al Shifa hospital, attacking the hospital, the displaced people inside, the doctors and the injuries by the israeli army and the israeli soldiers, the israeli tanks and bulldozers.

So for those who don't know, people are either inside one building of Shifa complex buildings, without water, without food, without the ability to move anywhere or to get outside that building and to be executed.

And talking about execution today, Muhammad al-Nunu, he is a doctor. The israeli army executed Muhammad al-Nunu because he refused to leave the unit that he is working in and refused to leave his patients and preferred to stay to complete their treatment because a lot of the ICU, of the intensive care unit patients died, passed away because there is no electricity, there is no food, there is no staff, there is bombing and burning for the hospital utilities.

So he refused to leave them and he was executed. He was killed in front of the people, in front of the patients. This is what is happening now in Al Shifa hospital.

It is a hospital and this is happening to them.

Thousands of people, women, children and innocent men and civilians are stuck in a building, in Al Shifa hospital without food, without water.

They started to drink the hospital storage saline solutions. It's the only liquids that they have.

And no one is talking about that. No one, no media, not enough media, no government, no one is talking about this.

And this is not the only horrific thing that happened today in the north of Gaza Strip, by the way, today between ten to 20 people were killed by the israeli shooting on the liquid roundabout while they were waiting for their humanitarian aid.

They were waiting for food because they're starving to death. In the north of Gaza Strip, in Ramadan months, they were waiting for food and they were killed by the israeli army.

How many times we need to scream more about that?

The north of Gaza Strip is under attack like it was the first days of this genocide. Exactly.

They are brutally killed and bombed. It is a hospital with thousands of innocent people, medical staff, injuries, civilians, and they are starved - to death. They are without water, without treatment

They are bleeding in front of each other until the death. And everyone is out of the building executed by snipers or inside starving to death.

This is what is happening now inside Al Shifa Hospital now, at this moment, for six days.

transcript end

caption:

North updates, very important.. watch to the end.

[br7ght]

I want to be yours (and yours only) Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

summary: Ona learns about Lucy's ex-lover who just so happens to be one of their teammates. Ona wants to make sure that Lucy knows that she doesn't like to share, or so she thinks.

warnings: dom!lucy, sub!ona, shower sex, jealousy, make-up sex, inappropriate use of the shower head, oral sex, fingering

pairing: lucy bronze x ona batlle

word count: 4,000 words

SMUT 18+

based on this ask, once again @occasionallyaurora pulling through <3

Ona had never felt so angry and riled up in the entire time she had spent with Barcelona. The team were tightly knit together, all intensely close and this meant that there was usually no room for jealousy, but she was finished just choking it down and ignoring it. She was seen as easy going and gentle, but usually the strong feelings she had, she was too ashamed to let them turn into anything bigger than a petty comment or a bit of silent treatment before giving in.

She had been dating Lucy for five months, growing close ever since the World Cup, and while it wasn’t officially announced to the rest of the girls, Lucy could barely keep her hands off of her, so it became quite transparent within the team that something was going on between them. Ona frequently coming into the locker rooms before training, dark marks etched into her skin and Lucy’s smirk as the rest of the girls questioned her about it made it quite obvious who had done that to the seemingly innocent woman.

There was a barrier though, one of Ona’s old teammates from Manchester United had transferred to Barca during the last January transfer window, the same woman who she knew was rumoured to have had a long-term fling with her girlfriend. The team loved her, apart from Alexia and Jenni who were clearly way too touchy to just be friends with her. The training session today couldn’t have been a better example of this. Ona caught the three of them making fleeting touches against each other, Alexia’s hand always finding its way onto her hips or on her ass, alongside Jenni always sandwiching herself next to her, never taking her hands from her body when they were close. That wasn’t the problem, Ona didn’t care at all about what Alexia and Jenni were doing with any of her teammates, but every time they were close to each other, she would find Lucy staring at them, her eyebrows furrowed and her gaze locked between them; a face that couldn’t be better compared to than a jealous ex-girlfriend.

Ona stormed off after training, avoiding the team catch up at the end of the session, and hiding herself in the locker room bathrooms as she just listened to the girls talk until they all eventually left together. She heard someone still walking around the room and she knew it would be Lucy wondering where she was, knowing that she was to drive them both home. Lucy hadn’t even seen Ona slip away from the group as she’d been too busy engaging in conversation with Alexia and Jenni to even notice her girlfriends rising anger. She heard her footsteps still, a locker squeaking on its hinges and Ona knew that she had to come out now, knowing exactly what she was going to say as she’d been planning it silently in her head ever since she sat down.

As soon as she slid the lock open, Lucy heard her and turned immediately to meet her gaze from across the room. “Where have you been mi amor?” She asked, the glowing smile on her face dropping as Ona didn’t smile back, continuing to walk towards her in the most intimidating way she had ever seen the younger woman.

Ona used her strength, shoving Lucy against the lockers hard, her back slamming into the metal, a gasp eliciting from the back of her throat. She was startled, not knowing what to make of it, but she knew she could feel a shock being sent down to her core.

“I saw you acting all jealous around Alexia, Jenni, and their ‘plaything’ today, Lucia.” Ona lets out, her voice breaking instead of coming across in the angry tone that she had planned all along. “You look at them like it’s buy one, get one free.” The taller woman didn’t even know how to reply, she knew that Ona was aware of her history with their teammate, but she didn’t think Ona would ever be jealous over her, not when Lucy was so sure that she made the younger girl know that she was her only priority. “Do you want to be with her, does Ale and Jenni being all over her make you jealous?” Ona almost spits these words out, Lucy stood eyes widened at the comment, not knowing what to make of her girlfriend’s assumptions.

“Princesa, no, I’d never lie to you and maybe there is something tiny that twinges when I see her with Alexia and Jenni, but nothing that would compare to seeing you with someone else.” Lucy stated, her voice serious but gentle, noticing how high-strung her actions had made Ona and instantly feeling a wave of guilt as she replayed back her behaviour, understanding where the freckled woman was coming from. “I’m so sorry if I’ve made you feel this way.”

She reached out her hand, cupping the smaller face that melted into her hold. Ona plants a kiss against the side of her palm instantly calming the tensions between them. “I just want to feel like I’m yours and that I don’t have to share your attention with her.” She pleaded, but it didn’t sound desperate, it sounded more like a demand and Lucy was eager to comply, wanting nothing but her girlfriend to know that despite her complex and messy past with a lot of people Ona had to come into contact with, there was no one she had ever felt this way about in the same way she felt about her.

“What can I do, cariño, anything. I’ll do anything.” Lucy meant it, there was no lies behind what she was saying, and Ona knew that she really would do anything that she asked of her. “I don’t know what else I can do to show you that you’re the only one.”

“Fuck me like I’m yours Luce, show me that I’m yours.” She lets out, a smile swiped across the anger on her face from before, feeling instantly relieved at Lucy’s calm and gentle response, not wanting to do anything that would hurt her in the slightest, not unless Ona asked of course.

“Don’t ask for what you can’t handle princesa.” Lucy smirked; her lips clasped together, face burning red as she felt the arousal pool between her legs at Ona’s words. Her soft tone that she spoke in always making everything she asked for sound so much more attractive.

It was merely a few seconds before Lucy was dragging her by the arm towards the showers, pulling her into the cubicle with intense desperation, locking it behind her. Ona was gasping against her lips that were barely connected with hers, but once they fully collided there was nothing that was going to stop them now. The heat that they emitted when they kissed was unlike anything either of them had felt before, the way their hands unashamedly groped each other’s clothed bodies was laced with an intense desire to just have each other all the time.

Lucy grasped Ona’s training jersey she was yet to change out of, pulling it over her head and throwing it over the door of their cubicle, ridding her of all of her clothing, barely taking a moment to gaze at her muscular body until there was nothing left on her. Ona was reciprocating the favour through laboured, frustrated breaths, pulling Lucy’s shorts down and placing them over the door where the rest of her clothes were sat.

Once they were both naked, their lips were on each other’s again. Lucy’s tongue swipes against Ona’s bottom lip, pleading for her to give in to her advances which she does instinctively. Allowing Lucy to explore the inside of her mouth was moan inducing, the way her tongue would slide against the younger woman’s, knowing exactly how to make her weak at the knees, pleading with her hips as they rolled against her body. Lucy had Ona’s back pressed up against the cold wall of the cubicle, her hand pressed firmly against the back of her waist, holding her body as close as it could be to her own.

The taller woman turned the knob of the shower, the heated water beating down on them both, streaming down their faces as they kissed even deeper than before, Lucy feeling her girlfriends’ hips rolling involuntarily against her thigh, barely making contact but it was enough of a signal to know that teasing was the exact opposite of what she needed.

Lucy brought her hands from her waist, kneading Ona’s perky breasts against her palms, the small streaks of water aiding her in her goal of quickly hardening her nipples so she could play with them between her fingers. As soon as she swirled her fingertip against the hardened nub, Ona’s lips attached themselves to her neck, pulling the skin between her teeth with frustrated immediacy. Lucy winced at the sensation, her head throwing back and allowing Ona more space to work with, knowing that she wanted to mark her up as a result of the jealousy she had brought out of her.

Lucy pinched her nipple hard, making her moan, muffled against the crook of her neck as she darkened the marks, she was working on up the length of Lucy’s neck. “That's it, mark me up, make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.” She lets out, Ona continuing to comply with the request, every few nips of her skin and she looked to admire the artwork she was creating, marking her territory as her own.

“Make me yours Luce, please.” Ona mumbled against her collarbone, the mixture of Lucy switching her fingers with her mouth, lapping at her nipple before taking it into her mouth and sucking loosely against the nub, and the water beating down on them driving her into a sense of desperation that needed to be taken care of.

“I’m going to make you feel so good my pretty princesa.” Lucy promised, parting Ona’s thighs with her spare hand, the other trailing up her chest. She tried to work her up, dragging her fingers through the shorter girl’s folds, her wetness immediately soaking up her fingers as she whined against Lucy’s light touches. She knew not to waste too much time, dipping the length of her digit inside Ona and relishing in her echoing moan that carried throughout the room. Lucy’s neck was burning but she knew Ona needed to see her marked up in a moment of role reversal, usually wanting to be the one with the souvenirs from the night before.

Ona’s whining and squirming was something Lucy was used to handling, using her strength to show her that she could always get what she wanted when she was in control. Lucy was thrusting into her now, adding a second finger into her entrance and watching down at Ona’s reaction to the quick stretching she felt that made her catch her bottom lip between her teeth in a desperate attempt to remain as quiet as she could. Ona was seeing stars, her chest rising and falling in honest lust, her legs beginning to shake at the feeling of Lucy pumping harder into her.

“Look at you take my fingers cariño, why would I want anyone else when I have you looking so pretty when I fuck you,” Lucy praised, placing a kiss against her forehead in a gentle response to the rough movements of her wrist. As the water continued pulsating over their bodies, Lucy knew what would make Ona certain that she wanted nobody else but her. “Can I try something with you?” She asked and Ona nodded, she always did, she never even asked anymore as she was confident in the fact that Lucy knew her body better than she did, she spent enough time getting to know it in such detail that she trusted her in the moments of vulnerability that they shared.

Lucy continued thrusting her wrist, curling her fingers, and brushing up against her walls, stroking at her sensitive spot. She took the showerhead from the holder, messing with the temperature until she found the perfect heat, changing the pressure to a smaller, stronger stream of water rather than the rain setting that was beating down on them before. Ona was looking in awe at Lucy’s brain ticking as she adjusted the shower that she held in her hand, secretly hoping that she was going to do what she was thinking.

When Lucy took her focus off the shower and diverted her gaze back to Ona’s face, she gently aimed the showerhead to direct the flow of water against her clit, still continually thrusting into her. As soon as the water pulsated against her bundle of nerves the sinful moan that escaped Ona’s lips was one that she couldn’t hold back despite the semi-public nature of this act they were committing together. Lucy kept her fingers curling against Ona’s spot, hitting it harshly with every thrust of her fingers, holding the showerhead in place so it was continually stimulating her so intensely that she could feel her legs trembling, unsure as to whether she was even going to be stood up by the time she reached her inevitable climax.

“Fuck Lucy. I’m all yours.” These words made Lucy quicken up her movements, really roughly fucking into her cunt now, desperate to watch her girlfriend chase her release as she could see it build behind her closed eyes and open mouth.

“Then come for me Princesa, show me why you’re all mine.” Lucy growled softly and Ona’s determination to earn the praise that she had just been awarded with was clear as her arms loosened from around Lucy’s neck and she grabbed the showerhead, pushing it closer to her clit and holding it milometers away from her, the water gushing harshly against her bud, the sensation on the border of being too much but the quick build-up of her high was addictive. Lucy let out a moan of her own as she watched Ona chase her release, a smile curling the edges of her mouth as she let her hold the head against herself, her hand now gripping the back of her thigh to keep her stood up properly.

Ona’s orgasm rippled intensely over her body, her entire form shaking and jerking as Lucy let her ride out the intensity of the climax, hearing her name strung in the back of her throat at every thrust encouraging her to work through the arm ache and satisfy her girlfriend how she needed. Lucy captured her lips in a kiss, taking the shower head and resuming the previous pressure before hooking it back onto the wall, letting her freezing body take in the heat as she worked into the mouth of her whining girlfriend.

Ona’s kisses became needier again as the aftershocks of her orgasm calmed, almost immediately being ready to go again. Lucy had trained her up to be able to take her again and again until she was finished using her and this silently making the taller woman regret ever being jealous over Alexia, Jenni, and her previous flame.

“It’s my turn to remind you what you have now, mi amor.” Ona teased, her voice seductive in itself minus the view of her orgasm ridden body dropping to her knees, kneeling up against Lucy’s toned thighs, her hands instantly gripping her nails into her skin, determined to leave more marks than just the ones littered on her neck. Ona hooks her leg over her shoulder, gazing at her glistening folds, gulping at the sheer amount of arousal that had pooled between her legs from watching her orgasm against her hand. She nips against Lucy’s thighs, clearly not finished with marking her territory, the skin between her legs way more sensitive, but each time Ona painted her mark against her it just increased her desperation to grind herself against the other woman’s tongue.

Ona sticks her tongue out, laying it flat against Lucy, the low and raspy groan she let out making her relish even more in the taste of her. Once her hands fell in Ona’s wet hair, tugging her nails into her scalp, encouraging her to find her clit with her tongue, immediately swirling it around her bud in the way she knew would make Lucy into a groaning mess above her. She was drowning beneath the shower, the water mixing with Lucy’s arousal when it hit her tongue, but the sensations of everything was just spurring Ona on.

“You’re so fucking good. I would never want anyone before I’d want you.” Lucy admitted with transparent honesty. She looked down at Ona on her knees, looking sympathetically at the way the shower was dripping down her face, barely able to catch her breath without inhaling the water that was drowning her out. Lucy breathed slowly through the long licks through the length of her slit, taking the showerhead from the holder and moving it out of the way of Ona’s face. “Hold this in place for me Princesa.” Lucy demands and Ona obeys, moving her tongue from the taller woman’s folds, letting the water gush against her clit in the same way that she had done for her.

Lucy moaned, the sound basically replicating Ona, the water pressure against her bundle of nerves providing a sensation so unique that it was forcing high pitched groans to leave the older woman’s lips. Ona had never heard her so worked up, her lips clasping together as she made use of her position, driving two fingers straight into her entrance, feeling her knees buckle underneath her shoulder at the overwhelming feeling.

“Continue what you were saying before.” Ona pleaded as Lucy’s chest was rising quicker, laboured breaths turning into strings of tumbling moans falling from her lips.

“I only want you Ona. Just you.” It was hard for her to form a sentence with the pulsating pressure of the water hitting her clit consistently while her entrance was being stretched hard by Ona’s fingers, thrusting up against her g-spot watching in arousal at her girlfriend coming undone by the second. “You’re my pretty girl, no one’s going to change that.” Ona moaned at the words, finding Lucy’s inner thighs between her lips again, darkening the marks that were already there, with a few nips Lucy’s legs were trembling under her tongue.

Ona knew not to stop or change anything when she became silent, usually as a response to her orgasm brimming against her touches. Her breathing hitched immediately and her hips grinded against the jet of water pushing intense pressure against her clit, and Ona gasped when she felt Lucy’s inner walls clench hard against her pumping fingers, physically feeling her body fold at the sheer force of her climax.

“That’s my princesa.” Lucy let out, catching her breath as she pushed the shower head away from her pulsating clit, signalling Ona to meet her at her lips, wanting to taste herself against her girlfriend’s mouth. “Let’s get you all dry, you’ve done enough mi amor.”

Ona happily gathered their clothes, letting Lucy drape a towel around her shoulders, sitting her down on the bench in the locker room. She was determined to get her all warmed up, even grabbing her hairbrush, and stroking the prongs through her wet curls, ridding her head of any tangles from her hands being wrapped up in them a few minutes ago. Ona was humming gently at each touch and Lucy knew she was needy again already.

Lucy caught a glimpse of her body underneath her towel in the mirror across the room, gasping as she looked at the way her skin was littered with darkened marks. Ona giggled, her thighs squeezing together as Lucy’s fingers trailed up her bruised neck, not even wanting to look at the mess of bruises between her thighs where Ona had been making a trail. “I think you’ve proven your point.” Ona’s cheeks flushed pink, nodding slightly as she looked up at her girlfriend with doe eyes, not wanting to beg to be fucked again after the last session only just finished, but this is what Lucy loved about them together.

“Open up for me then, I know you need more after you’ve dropped to your knees for me like that.” Lucy grazed her tongue against the husk of her ear, eliciting a gasp from Ona who instantly obliged her request, slightly embarrassed at how she was already dripping for her. Lucy perched next to her on the bench, her nipples showing through the gap in her towel as she leant her arm over Ona’s body, gently stroking light touches against her wetness. “I think this should convince you that you’re all mine.”

Lucy grabbed her thighs, pulling Ona over her lap. Her legs opened wide as she straddled over Lucy’s hips. Lucy snakes her hand between their bodies, letting Ona sink down onto her fingers. Ona’s body moving uncontrollably as she started to ride her fingers with such desperation that Lucy was convinced that the shower hadn’t even happened.

“I’m all yours, just me.” Ona moaned against the crook of Lucy’s marked neck; her forehead unable to hold itself up as she grinded her hips against Lucy’s perfectly positioned fingers. Ona was grasping a hold of the hooks attached just above the benches, trying to keep her body fixed focus on Lucy’s thrusts.

“Yes, princesa, this is what you get for being mine.” Lucy praised, readjusting her hand so her thumb could brush up against her clit, knowing that with a few strokes Ona would let go of her release and come hard against her hand. Again. She was right, as per usual, as Ona stopped bouncing over Lucy’s lap, allowing her girlfriend to thrust into her instead, keeping herself grounded so she could feel her brush against her sensitive spot. “That’s my girl, ride it out on my fingers.” Her possessiveness had Ona close to finishing already. 

She was moaning Lucy’s name again, luckily enough for them the entire building should be completely barren by now, but anyone left inside definitely knew about the ongoings of the Barcelona changing rooms this evening. Ona’s moans and gasps were spacey as her body let her climax take over her movements, announcing to the building that she was about to orgasm again. With one swipe of Lucy’s tongue across her hard nipple in front of her face and she collapsed in pleasure, the sweet sound of ecstasy bouncing off the walls.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me.” Ona let out after a few minutes of recovery. Lucy pulling her body into her own, sharing one towel now as the younger girl snuggled her head into the others grasp.

“You’re my only priority, always.” Lucy said with confidence, not a single regret coming to mind as Ona shared her body warmth with her, the feeling of their temperatures combining into one was an ultimately intimate romantic exchange.

“I mean, I understand.” Ona admitted, biting her fingernail as Lucy smirked at her before she could hide her embarrassed face, “She is hot, isn’t she?”

“Ona!” Lucy laughed, but nodding with her as she knew she had done her job well if Ona could joke about her ex-girlfriend’s appearance.

“I certainly wouldn’t mind watching you with her.” Lucy was too stunned to even respond, but her cheeks flushing bright red must’ve been the biggest giveaway of them all. She felt a sense of pride at how Ona was acting after their session, just showing how their communication had led them into this state of understanding, even if it was just Ona messing around.

“I think I’d want to see something different happen if this ever came true.” Lucy grinned, furrowing her eyebrows, and watching as Ona spread an evil grin on her face before they both erupted into pure laughter, sharing this moment between one towel, skin on skin.

“I think you’d have to be the one to ask her.” Ona continued playing into the joke, both of them however slightly curious about the mock fantasy they were creating in their heads. Lucy had her hands in her freshly brushed hair, tracing patterns against her scalp and twirling her hair through her fingers as they laughed innocently together.

“I guess we’d have to invite Alexia and Jenni too then. I don’t think we want to be the ones to home wreck that relationship.”

 “Like a two-for-one special.”

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week

1. ‘It was an accident’: the scientists who have turned humid air into renewable power

Greetings, readers! Welcome to our weekly dose of positivity and good vibes. In this edition, I've gathered a collection of uplifting stories that will surely bring a smile to your face. From scientific breakthroughs to environmental initiatives and heartwarming achievements, I've got it all covered.

In May, a team at the University of Massachusetts Amherst published a paper declaring they had successfully generated a small but continuous electric current from humidity in the air. They’ve come a long way since then. The result is a thin grey disc measuring 4cm across.

One of these devices can generate a relatively modest 1.5 volts and 10 milliamps. However, 20,000 of them stacked, could generate 10 kilowatt hours of energy a day – roughly the consumption of an average UK household. Even more impressive: they plan to have a prototype ready for demonstration in 2024.

2. Empty Office Buildings Are Being Turned Into Vertical Farms

Empty office buildings are being repurposed into vertical farms, such as Area 2 Farms in Arlington, Virginia. With the decline in office usage due to the Covid-19 pandemic, municipalities are seeking ways to fill vacant spaces.

Vertical farming systems like Silo and AgriPlay's modular growth systems offer efficient and adaptable solutions for converting office buildings into agricultural spaces. These initiatives not only address food insecurity but also provide economic opportunities, green jobs, and fresh produce to local communities, transforming urban centers in the process.

3. Biden-Harris Administration to Provide 804,000 Borrowers with $39 Billion in Automatic Loan Forgiveness as a Result of Fixes to Income Driven Repayment Plans

The Department of Education in the United States has announced that over 804,000 borrowers will have $39 billion in Federal student loans automatically discharged. This is part of the Biden-Harris Administration's efforts to fix historical failures in the administration of the student loan program and ensure accurate counting of monthly payments towards loan forgiveness.

The Department aims to correct the system and provide borrowers with the forgiveness they deserve, leveling the playing field in higher education. This announcement adds to the Administration's efforts, which have already approved over $116.6 billion in student loan forgiveness for more than 3.4 million borrowers.

4. F.D.A. Approves First U.S. Over-the-Counter Birth Control Pill

The move could significantly expand access to contraception. The pill is expected to be available in early 2024.

The Food and Drug Administration on Thursday approved a birth control pill to be sold without a prescription for the first time in the United States, a milestone that could significantly expand access to contraception. The medication, called Opill, will become the most effective birth control method available over the counter

5. AIDS can be ended by 2030 with investments in prevention and treatment, UN says

It is possible to end AIDS by 2030 if countries demonstrate the political will to invest in prevention and treatment and adopt non-discriminatory laws, the United Nations said on Thursday.

In 2022, an estimated 39 million people around the world were living with HIV, according to UNAIDS, the United Nations AIDS program. HIV can progress to AIDS if left untreated.

6. Conjoined twins released from Texas Children’s Hospital after successfully separated in complex surgery

Conjoined twins are finally going home after the pair was safely separated during a complex surgery at Texas Children’s Hospital in June.

Ella Grace and Eliza Faith Fuller were in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) for over four months after their birth on March 1. A large team of healthcare workers took six hours to complete the surgery on June 14. Seven surgeons, four anesthesiologists, four surgical nurses and two surgical technicians assisted with the procedure.

7. From villains to valued: Canadians show overwhelming support for wolves

Despite their record in popular culture, according to a recent survey, seven in 10 Canadians say they have a “very positive” view of the iconic predators. 

Here's a fascinating video about how wolves changed Yellowstone nat'l park:

----

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Support this newsletter ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog.

[ltash]

New Recruit

SimonGhostRileyxFemaleReader 'OneShot' approx 7K words

Warning: Smut, Erotic, Hot romantic banter to banging hot sex

From hiding your identity to being broken and ruined by your Lieutenant.

In the elite ranks of Task Force 141, women were typically limited to roles like medics or corporals, rarely reaching special units or high ranks. Yet, within this norm, there was an anomaly—Riley, a sergeant whose true identity was both a secret and a revelation waiting to be exposed.

You had joined with high hopes and a fierce determination. But the journey has been arduous. You had to face constant skepticism and belittlement from your fellow men and Ghost, in particular, seemed to take extra pleasure in your struggles.

You, the unit's newest member, were striking in your own way. Standing at about 5 ft 7, your physique was toned lean, fitting the soldier’s role you had crafted. Your eyes were mismatched—one green, one brown—adding to your unique appearance. What no one knew was that you were actually a woman disguising yourself as a man, a meticulous ruse to infiltrate the male-dominated world of Task Force 141.

You bound your chest and wore men’s clothes to maintain the illusion of masculinity. Despite your efforts, you faced frequent bullying and dismissal from your colleagues, especially Ghost.

Despite the harsh environment created by the men, the few women on the base show you support and solidarity. They know what you're going through, what it takes to survive in a world dominated by men. The treatment from the men, however, only grows harsher as your resilience becomes evident, their hostility a constant reminder of the challenges you face.

The other men in the unit often underestimate you, thinking you're weak and insignificant. Ghost has been one of the worst, often singling you out for his criticism and mockery.

He would make crude comments, give you the hardest tasks, and generally treat you like you're less than the dirt on his boots. It's clear that he doesn't think much of you, and he makes sure you know it.

The men in the unit often flinch at your vulgar remarks, their faces going red and their eyes widening in shock. Ghost, however, is always noticeably affected, his jaw clenching and his eyes darkening.

Despite his usual stoic demeanor, he can't help but react to your words, whether it's a twitch of his brow, a tightening of his shoulders, or a quick glance in your direction. The more you talk like this, the more you seem to get under his skin, and it both angers and intrigues him.

One day, Ghost, ever vigilant, sits at a table cleaning his guns, the rhythmic scrape of metal against cloth breaking the silence intermittently. He looks over at you, studying your every move with an intensity that would make most men shiver.

The task force had its own social hierarchy. And at the top, there was Ghost. The most respected, the most feared, the one everyone looked up to.

Ghost leaned back in his chair, a smug look on his face as he looks you up and down. He’s sizing you up, like a prey to a predator.

“Pretty small, for a man.” He says, a hint of mockery in his tone.

"You're not like most men in the force, you know," he remarks in that low, gruff voice of his, blue eyes fixed on you.

"What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, leaning in closely with a glare. Your heart is racing, and Ghost can hear it too. His voice does something to you, and it pisses you off.

Ghost lets out a laugh as he looks up at you, his chin tilted up to meet your eyes. His hand is wrapped firmly around the gun, but he’s yet to look away from your glare.

“You’re not scared of me. Most are.”

His gaze moves down to your uniform, noting the details that most others wouldn't. He's sizing you up, gauging your presence, and the more he looks, the more intrigued he seems to become.

"You're an odd one, aren't you?" He finally murmurs, setting his gun down on the table with a soft click. "Something about you feels... different."

Soap approached from behind and shoved you to the ground.

"Riley! The midget is here." He laughed as you fell. You wore a balaclava like Ghost to conceal your face.

Soap's sudden shove catches you off guard, and you tumble to the floor. Before you can stand, he mockingly laughs at your fall, calling you a midget as he towers over you.

Ghost watches the scene with a stoic expression, his eyes flickering between Soap and you.

"Poor Riley! Can't even spar with us without losing. Are you gay or a trans Riley?" He started laughing.

Ghost continued to watch, a smirk on his face. He was amused, enjoying Soap’s taunts.

The other soldiers joined in with Soap’s laughter. They all mocked you, hurling insults or asking invasive questions.

"He can't hold a sniper too without falling. The recoil will send him back to his home. Fucking midget. " Ghost snickered.

Ghost's cold chuckle joins Soap's mockery, adding fuel to the fire. His words are sharp and cutting, aimed to belittle you further.

"Not just a midget, but a clumsy one at that. Can't hold a sniper without going flying, eh?" His tone carries a mix of mockery and cruelty.

Ghost laughed, a rough bark that echoed through the room. The other soldiers joined in, laughing with him and making their own comments.

“Yeah, the kid can’t do anything right.” One said. “I don’t know how he even made it into the force.” Another added.

Ghost's voice drips with disdain as he berates you, his words cutting deep.

"Pretending to be a big and scary guy, but you're just a damn poser," he sneers. "Wearing a balaclava to fit in, trying to be like me when you know damn well you're just a loser."

Ghost’s words stung. He saw right through your facade. You weren’t fooling anyone, not him. The other soldiers snickered, agreeing with him.

“He’s just trying to be like you, Ghost.” Soap mocked. “You should be flattered, mate. He has a mancrush on you.”

The soldier's laughter and agreement with Ghost's words only adds to the humiliation. Soap's jab about your supposed mancrush on Ghost further reinforces the humiliation.

Ghost smirks at Soap's comment, seeming amused by the idea. He gives you a brief glance, the cold stare of his eyes burning through you.

"A mancrush, huh?" he chuckles darkly. "Is that why you're trying so damn hard to be like me?"

Ghost’s words hit you like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t holding back, he was saying exactly what he thought about you.

The other soldiers continue to laugh and mockingly agree with him. They think it’s funny, watching you get torn apart by Ghost.

The laughter and mockery from the other soldiers only adds to the humiliation, their amusement palpable as they watch Ghost rip into you. Ghost, however, is relentless, his gaze unwavering as he continues to taunt and mock you.

"Trying to be tough, but deep down, you're just a poser, aren't you?" he sneers, his voice thick with derision. "Copying everything, even my surname.  trying to imitate me, it's pathetic."

The laughter is now full on cackling as the other soldiers enjoy the show. They revel in seeing you degraded, embarrassed, and shamed in front of them.

Ghost continues to glare at you, his eyes full of contempt. He leans back against the wall, crossing his arms as he looks you up and down, a smirk on his face.

“You’re nothing like me. You’ll never be me. You’re just a weak poser, trying to copy the best.”

"I am nothing like you Ghost. But I am a sergeant in Taskforce too and I didn't copy your surname. Its my real name. Riley Sanders." You tried to say in a man's voice.

Your attempt at maintaining your disguise is met with a dismissive scoff from Ghost. His eyes narrow as he looks at you, his expression hardening.

"You say that, but your every move, every attitude, it's all stolen from me. You may go by a different name, but deep down, we all know who you're trying to be." He responds in mock sympathy, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Riley Sanders, huh? I bet you chose that name specifically to try and fit in with this team, didn't you? pathetic."

You took a deep breath trying to compose yourself. Ghost stood up and came to you.

"Stand still." He ordered.

"Yes Sir." You replied.

"Say! You are a jerk, a prick. Out loud." He ordered.

"I am a jerk and I am a prick." You yelled.

Ghost's command hangs in the air like a weight, and you begrudgingly reply, "I am a jerk and a prick." The words tasted like bile in your mouth.

Ghost circles around you, his gaze taking in every inch. He stops in front of you, his face mere inches away from yours.

"Louder." He demands, his voice a growl.

You repeated the phrase louder, feeling the eyes of the other soldiers on you as they watch. Ghost stood in front of you, his face inches away from yours. He could smell your breath, see the anger in your eyes.

He leaned in closer, his voice gruff and firm.

“I can’t hear you. Say it louder.”

"I am a jerk and I am a prick." You yelled loudly.

Ghost nodded in approval as all the soldiers burst into laughter. Some of them started making comments about how weak you were, how much of a fool they thought you were.

Ghost raised his hand, silencing the room immediately. He took a step closer to you, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

“Good. Again.”

Ghost smirked as you complied with his order. The other soldiers quieted down, eager to see where this was going.

Ghost looked you up and down, his blue eyes full of disdain and contempt. He spoke firmly, his voice cold and commanding.

“And why are you a jerk and a prick?”

You felt the weight of everyone's gaze on you, their interest piqued by Ghost's unexpected command. You take a deep breath, anticipating his next words.

"Why am I a jerk and a prick?" you echo. Ghost's cold, commanding tone leaves no room for anything but an honest answer.

The silence in the room is palpable, the weight of everyone's gaze weighing heavily on your shoulders. Ghost stands over you, his intense stare demanding an answer.

You take a deep breath, swallowing back your pride, and force out the words.

"Because I'm weak, incompetent, and unworthy."

Ghost raises an eyebrow at your answer, a hint of surprise in his expression. It’s not the response he was expecting.

The other soldiers exchange looks, some surprised, some amused. They’re all waiting to see how Ghost will react.

Ghost leans in, getting right up in your face.

“That’s right, you are. You’re weak, incompetent, and unworthy. And you know why?”

His question hangs in the air like a challenge, and you brace yourself for his answer.

"And why is that?" You ask, though you already have an idea of what he's going to say.

He lets out a scoff, a hint of mockery in his voice.

"Because you're just a damn poser, pretending to be something or someone you're not. You're trying to fit in here, but you're not fooling anyone. We all know you're just a weak pathetic kid who can't hold his own."

Ghost straightens up, towering over you. His eyes are cold and calculated, sizing you up.

"You'll never be like me. You just don't have what it takes."

His words cut deep, each one like a dagger to your pride. Ghost's mockery and disdain in his voice, the truth behind his words stings.

"You're right," you admit, the words sticking in your throat. "I'm just a weak poser."

Ghost towers over you, his gaze unwavering, sizing you up. You feel small and insignificant in his presence, like a child playing at being a soldier.

"I'll never be like you," you echo, your defeat seeping through your words.

Ghost laughs, the sound rough and mocking.

"Damn right you'll never be like me," he says, his voice full of contempt. "You don't have the strength. You don't have the skill. You don't have the determination."

The other soldiers snicker and laugh, enjoying seeing you torn apart by Ghost.

You took a step back and ran outside. You ran with tears in your eyes, every soldier looking at you as you ran.

As you run away, you can feel the eyes of the other soldiers on you, their laughter and taunts still ringing in your ears. You finally reach your dorm and slam the door behind you, locking it tightly.

You take off the balaclava, letting your silky black hair cascade down. You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection.

You see a beautiful woman looking back at you, a stark contrast to the tough image you portrayed as Riley.

Despite your best efforts to hide your true self behind a mask of toughness and masculinity, the reality stands before you in the mirror. Your reflection, a young and beautiful woman, clashes with the identity you've been trying to maintain.

You take a deep breath, the weight of Ghost's harsh words still ringing in your ears. The facade you've been projecting is shattering, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

You're standing in the shower, unbinding your chest and taking a moment to breathe. The warm water runs over your body, soothing your weary muscles and offering some respite from the intense training you've endured.

After washing and drying yourself, you put on your uniform once more, concealing your feminine features beneath it. You exit the shower and answer the knock on the door.

A soldier stands there, delivering a message from Captain Price. He tells you that the Captain needs to see you in the briefing room.

You enter the briefing room, greeted by the familiar faces of your teammates. Captain Price stands at the front, his expression serious and focused.

He gives you a quick nod as you enter, before announcing that you and Ghost have been assigned a new mission. You tense slightly as Price says Ghost will be accompanying you as your Lieutenant, but you keep your expression neutral.

You glance over to Ghost, who stands there stoically, his blue eyes fixed on you.

Ghost's intense gaze meets yours briefly as you glance at him. His expression remains stoic, giving no hint of what he might be thinking or feeling.

Captain Price continues, "This mission is a high-priority one. It requires your skills and expertise. Ghost will be providing leadership and tactical support. You both have complementary strengths and your individual abilities will be crucial for the success of this operation."

You give a firm "Yes, sir" in response to Price's instructions.

You exit the briefing room and begin gearing up for the mission, securing your equipment and supplies in your bag.

When you reach the tarmac, you find Ghost already waiting, his arms crossed over his chest. He mutters an insult under his breath, calling you a prick and a midget.

You ignore the taunt and make your way to the helicopter, taking a seat in front of Ghost and looking away from him.

The helicopter landed on the sight of the mission and you both came out. You had to gather intel and Ghost was about to cover you.

"Hey! Prick! Don't get yourself killed." He ordered.

"Yes Sir!" You replied.

You both breached the enemy territory into the compound. You breached the firewall in the control room and started  downloading files."

"How long will it take?" Ghost barked.

"Just a minute, Sir." You tried to mimick a man's voice.

As you and Ghost successfully downloaded the vital files, you follow him closely behind, edging closer and closer to the extraction point. Just when you think you've made it, the enemy soldiers close in, pursuing you relentlessly.

Ghost, with his back turned, continues forward, unaware of the danger approaching. In a split second, you turn around, positioning yourself between him and the enemy fire.

A sniper bullet hits your vest, the impact intense and powerful. The force is overwhelming, the bulletproof vest buckling under the assault, knocking you out cold.

Ghost swiftly drags your unconscious body to cover, shooting down the enemy soldiers with his sniper rifle. The helicopter swoops in, providing cover fire and making a safe landing.

"Goddammit Riley! Don't you dare pass out on me, you prick!" Ghost curses as he brings you onto the chopper. The ride back to the safehouse is tense,

Ghost carrying your unconscious form on his shoulder.

Once inside, he places you on the floor and starts slapping your masked face, his frustration clear.

"Wake up, you midget! Come on, wake up!" Ghost grunts, his voice laced with annoyance.

Ghost's eyes widen in shock as he pulls off your balaclava, seeing your long, silky black hair spread out on the floor. He stands there transfixed, his breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sight infront of him.

He's frozen in disbelief, gazing at your face, angelic in its innocent beauty. Your eyes are closed, and you gasp for breath, your pink lips parted.

For a moment, he's lost for words, his anger and aggression replaced by surprise and confusion.

"Hey! Wake up, goddammit!" He continues to gently pat your cheek, trying to rouse you from your unconscious state.

Ghost carefully carries you in his arms, feeling your limp body against his chest. He places you gently on the bed and begins to undo the straps of your vest. Suddenly, your eyes flutter open, and you gasp for breath.

"Where am I?" You managed to gasp, confusion and fear creeping into your voice.

"Where am I? What happened?" You asked again.

"You're safe now. We're in the safehouse," Ghost responds, his voice steady and reassuring, trying to calm your confusion. "You took a bullet to the vest and passed out. But don't worry, you're fine now."

Your gaze shifted towards your silky, unbound hair, realizing you were no longer wearing your balaclava. Feeling an instant pang of realization, you touched your hair, knowing that Ghost has already discovered your true identity.

"Oh, shoot-" you murmur, your fingers running through your loose tresses in a mixture of surprise and anxiety.

"Oh my god. You weren't suppose to know."

Ghost's expression remains stoic as he watches you realize that your secret is out. He stands there silently, letting you comprehend the situation.

Finally, he speaks up, his voice steady and calm, "No, I wasn't suppose to know. But I do now."

"You didn't want me to know?" he queries, his eyebrows raised in a mix of surprise and confusion. "Why would you keep something like that a secret?"

"I was pretending to be a man because I wanted to blend in." You replied nervously looking down.

"Pretending to be a man, to blend in," he repeats, his gaze fixed on you. "I guess that makes sense."

He takes a step closer, peering down at you as you look down, sensing your nervousness. He crosses his arms across his chest, his muscular arms flexing under his shirt.

A gasp escaped your lips as you looked at him. "You are the one who humiliated me the most Ghost. Bullied me infront of soldiers. You and Soap." You said softly.

"Yeah, I remember," he admitted, his voice gruff. "Had to keep up appearances. Couldn't let the others suspect you were a girl."

"What? You knew all the way. Even when Johnny pushed me down on the floor, you went overboard with your rudeness. You called me a jerk, prick, midget. Do you treat your brothers in arms like that Lieutenant?"

Ghost's jaw clenched at your words, his gaze narrowing as you reminded him of his harsh treatment towards you.

"No, I don't treat my brothers in arms like that usually," he admitted, a hint of regret in his voice. "But I had to maintain the illusion that you were just another soldier, not a girl."

"Liar. If you knew I was a girl you would never treat me like one. I never saw you treating a woman like that before and even if you didn't know than you are not suppose to treat a soldier like that." I blurted out.

"You're right," he grumbled, his voice laced with a hint of shame. "I shouldn't have treated you that way, whether you were a man or a woman. I got carried away with the act."

Standing so close to him alone was doing things to you that you couldn't even describe. Despite what he did to you earlier you were sttracted to him. Your breathing got ragged.

Ghost could sense the change in your breathing as you stood in front of him. He could see the way your chest rose and fell, the way your breath caught in your throat.

Your bound chest was aching as the plated vest had made an impression on your sternum. You took off your uniform jacket and ran towards the bathroom. Taking off your shirt and unbinding your chest. You wore your shirt again and came out.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and you emerged, wearing your shirt again. Ghost's eyes widened slightly as he saw you, your unbound chest now more apparent through the thin fabric of the shirt.

Ghost turned to you, his gaze steady and appreciative. "You handled yourself well out there."

You nodded, trying to mask your relief with a hint of nonchalance. "Just doing my job, Lieutenant."

As you replied with a cool facade, Ghost couldn't help but smirk beneath the balaclava.

"Just doing your job," he echoed, his tone betraying a hint of amusement. "Is that all it was?"

He stepped closer, his eyes fixed on yours. "You didn't even break a sweat back there."

It was rare for Ghost to offer compliments, and even rarer for them to be directed at you.

You held his gaze without flinching, meeting his challenge head-on. You weren't about to back down or show any hint of weakness to the intimidating Lieutenant.

"What can I say?" You replied with a smirk. "I'm a natural."

Ghost chuckled, enjoying the back-and-forth. He wasn't used to people matching his wit, let alone a fresh recruit.

He stepped closer, his voice a low rumble.

"A natural, eh? That's quite a claim."

His eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail of your stance and expression. He was intrigued—against his better judgment, you had piqued his curiosity.

You held his gaze, refusing to back down. The proximity of his towering form should have been intimidating, but instead, it sent a peculiar shiver down your spine.

You lifted your chin defiantly, a small smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

"Not a claim, Lieutenant. Just an observation."

Ghost's amusement deepened at your defiance. The way you held your ground, even in the face of his imposing presence, was commendable. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"An observation, is it? You're quite the confident one."

He allowed a hint of admiration to slip into his voice. Despite the mask, his eyes held a subtle intensity as they continued to scrutinize you.

You maintained your cool exterior, refusing to waver under the weight of his gaze.

Keeping your voice steady, you responded with a nonchalant shrug. "Just stating the facts, Lieutenant. Confidence is my middle name."

Ghost chuckled, genuinely amused by your audacity. He closed the remaining distance between you, standing so close that you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"Is that so? Confidence is good. But arrogance, not so much."

There was a subtle warning in his tone, a hint that he was not someone to be trifled with.

Your heart rate quickened as he invaded your personal space, but you stood your ground, maintaining eye contact and a neutral expression.

"Arrogance is misplaced confidence. I know my limits, Lieutenant."

You held his gaze, refusing to back down despite the slight flutter in your chest.

"And I believe you do as well.” A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you teased him.

Ghost raised an eyebrow at your cheeky remark.

He leaned even closer, his voice a low rumble.

"You've got a smart mouth on you, you know that?"

There was a hint of a smile in his eyes, betraying his enjoyment of the exchange. His proximity made your heart race even faster, your body betraying your composure against your will.

"Better a smart mouth than a dumb one," you retorted, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips.

You could almost hear the thump of your heart in your ears as he continued to invade your personal space. There was something in his eyes that you couldn't quite place—amusement? Intrigue? Attraction, even?

He chuckled at your defiant reply, enjoying the challenge you dared to pose. Your refusal to be intimidated, your witty retorts, it was all chipping away at his usual stoicism, uncovering a layer of begrudging admiration.

"You're quite the little firecracker, aren't you?"

There was a hint of playful mockery in his voice, but his eyes burned with a new, subtle intensity as he scrutinized your face.

Your heart skipped a beat as he moved even closer, The heat emanating from him was making it hard to think straight. His mocking tone was both annoying and thrilling at the same time. You tried to keep your voice steady, but a hint of breathlessness crept into your words.

"Firecracker, huh? I'll take that as a compliment."

You held his gaze, refusing to back down.

Ghost smirked beneath his balaclava at your valiant attempts to keep your cool. He could see the slight breathlessness in your voice, the way your eyes dilated almost imperceptibly as he loomed over you.

He reached out, his gloved hand gently cupping your chin, tilting your face upwards to meet his gaze directly.

"Firecracker indeed. You know how dangerous it is to play with fire, don’t you?"

Your heart stuttered in your chest as his gloved hand gently tilted your chin upwards to meet his gaze. His proximity, his touch, it was all too much, and yet, you refused to yield. You tried to maintain your neutral expression, but you could tell he wasn't buying it.

Swallowing hard, you retorted with a shaky voice.

"I'm not afraid of getting burned."

His eyes glittering with something that resembled approval and desire at the same time. The way you stood your ground, even as he towered over you, was both admirable and maddening. He continued to hold your chin gently, his thumb gently brushing over your skin as he spoke.

"No? That's good. Because I burn pretty hot, Firecracker." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, a challenge in his eyes."You sure you can handle it?"

"I can handle it."

You met his challenge with your own, leaning in slightly, your faces now only inches apart.

Ghost smirked at your defiant response, his gaze never leaving yours. The slight tremble in your voice betrayed your true feelings, fueling the fire within him.

"Oh, you can, can you?" he mockingly echoed your statement, his voice a low rumble. "I'll hold you to that, Firecracker."

His hand on your chin tilted your head back further, his breath ghosting against your neck.

Your body responded, betraying your attempts to keep your cool. But you refused to show weakness, even as your heart raced in your chest.

His hand on your chin was a grounding touch, keeping you tethered to the moment.

You summoned your voice, willing it to stay steady.

"Looks like I've got a lot to prove then, Lieutenant."

His hand on your chin moved slightly, his gloved fingers gently tracing the contour of your cheek, his voice dropping to a low, rumbling whisper.

"Oh, you have no idea, Firecracker."

You tried to suppress the way your body was reacting to him, the way your pulse was racing, the way your skin tingled whenever he touched you. It was becoming increasingly difficult to control your breathing.

"I'm up to the challenge, Lieutenant."

He chuckled, his eyes fixated on yours, taking in every subtle change in your expression.

He leaned in even closer, his body now pinning you against the wall behind you.

"I wouldn't have expected anything less, Firecracker," he purred, his voice a dangerously low rumble.

Your body reacted, your breathing uneven, your heart thudding loudly in your chest.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a shred of defiance in your voice, but the way he held you against the wall was making it difficult to think straight.

"You haven't seen the half of it, Lieutenant."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, his voice a low murmur, rumbling with a hint of desire.

"Is that so? Then show me."

A shiver shot through you as his breath grazed your ear, sending a surge of heat straight to your core.

"Careful what you wish for, Lieutenant."

You leaned in, the space between you almost non-existent,Your voice was a whisper, but the challenge was clear.

"I might just burn you."

His hands on your waist tightened, holding you firmly against the wall, his body taut with a barely suppressed desire.

"Oh, babydoll, you have no idea what you're playing with."

You summoned your voice, trying to sound defiant, but the breathlessness gave away your true feelings.

"Is that a threat or a promise, Lieutenant?"

He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching your ear, his voice a possessive growl.

"Both, Firecracker. Both."

Your heart was racing, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as he closed the distance.

With an effort, you found your voice again, each word tinged with a hint of defiance, yet betraying the effect he was having on you.

"You think I can't handle it, Lieutenant?"

Ghost let out a low rumble, his hands on your waist went down to your hips tightening even further, trapping you against the wall.

He leaned in closer, his lips grazing your ear, He lowered his voice to a dangerous murmur.

"Oh, I know you can, Firecracker. But the question is, can you handle me?"

Despite your best efforts to maintain some semblance of control, your heart was racing, your breath coming in shallow gasps, anger, desire, defiance, and something deeper, more primal. You found your voice, but it was hoarse, betraying your inner turmoil.

"You're damn right I can, Lieutenant."

He leaned in even closer, his body flush against yours, his voice a low, possessive growl.

"Is that so, Firecracker? Then prove it."

You drew in a shaky breath, gathering your courage. You held his gaze, meeting his challenge head-on, refusing to back down, despite the way your body was responding to him, the way he had you pinned against the wall.

"Bring it on, Lieutenant."

A dangerous smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took in your determined expression, the way you met his gaze without fear.

He pressed you even harder against the wall, His voice dropped to a husky murmur, a challenge and a promise all in one.

"Careful what you ask for, Firecracker."

With a voice that trembled just a little, you met his challenge head-on.

"Maybe you're the one who should be careful, Lieutenant."

"Is that supposed to be a threat, Firecracker? Or a promise?"

Your heart raced, the way his voice rumbled in his chest, the way his body pressed against you, it was all driving you crazy. You felt your resolve weakening, your body succumbing to the chemistry between you.

"A bit of both, Lieutenant."

His smirk widened at your response, his eyes glittering with a dangerous glint.

"You're a brave one, Firecracker. But are you brave enough to back up your words?"

He leaned in even closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to your ear, his voice a possessive murmur.

"You seem to have quite the mouth on you, Firecracker. But I have a few ways to shut it up."

His grip on your hip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, a warning and a promise in one.

"Careful, Firecracker. Keep talking like that and you might find yourself in a situation you can't talk your way out of."

With a voice that trembled just a little, you responded, the challenge clear in your tone.

"And what if I like that situation, Lieutenant?"

"Oh, pretty little princess. Don't tempt me. I have a habit of giving people exactly what they ask for. And I don't think you're ready for what I have in mind."..

The way he spoke sending a shiver down your spine. You were torn between the desire to push him away and the aching desire to pull him closer.

You met his gaze, the defiant fire in your eyes not diminishing,

"Who says I'm not ready, Lieutenant?"

"Oh, you're more than ready, babydoll. But I'm not sure you know what you're asking for. Once I have you in my hands, you won't be able to resist me."

You trembled beneath him, the heat of his breath against your ear sending a shiver through your body, his words only amplifying the ache deep within you.

With a shaky breath, you tried to sound defiant, even as you found yourself wanting to give in.

And what makes you think I'd want to resist you?"

He chuckled again, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.

"Oh, it's not about wanting. It's about giving in. Once I get you in my grip, there'll be no resisting. You'll be mine, body and soul."

You should pull away, push him away, but you found yourself drawn to him, the heat between you growing with every passing moment. Your breath came in shaky gasps as he spoke, his words both a promise and a threat.*

"And if I don't want to give in so easily?"

"Babydoll, you're already giving in. Your body betrays you. I can feel the heat radiating off your skin, the way your pulse races when I'm near you. You can act as tough as you want, but deep down you want this as much as I do."

You hated how he was right, how he could see through your defiant facade, how he seemed to understand the conflicting emotions within you.

Your breath came in shallow gasps as you tried to keep your voice steady, but you could no longer deny the truth.

"Damn you..."

"Oh, you can curse me all you want, Firecracker. But deep down you know you want this. You want me. You want to give in to the fire that's burning between us. And, despite that smart mouth of yours, you know I'm going to take you. Whether you resist or not."

You wanted to resist, to push him away, but his words, his touch, his presence, it was all too much, too overwhelming. You couldn't deny the truth, the way he was able to get under your skin, to touch a part of you that no one else ever had.

You closed your eyes, a shaky breath escaping your lips, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"Damn you... Damn you for making me want this..."

His grip on you tightened, his body pressing even closer to yours, his voice a low growl in your ear.

"That's right, admit it. You want this. You want me."

He leaned in even closer, his lips hovering millimeters from yours, his voice a tantalizing whisper.

"And I'm going to damn well make you, My pretty little thing."

Your resistance was crumbling, your desire for him growing with each passing second.

His grip on you was firm, possessive, and you found yourself sinking deeper into his embrace, unable to resist his hold on you.

"You... You bastard..."

You managed to whisper, your voice choked with a mixture of desire and fear.

He chuckled at your curse, seemingly enjoying your struggle to maintain your defiant facade. He could feel your body trembling beneath him, your breath coming in shallow gasps, your resistance weakening.

"Oh, namecalling won't help you now, Firecracker. You're right where I want you, and I'm not going to let you go anytime soon."

His grip on you tightened even further, his body pressing flush against yours, his voice a low, possessive rumble.

"You're mine, babydoll. You just need to admit it."

Your mind was a maelstrom of contradictory emotions, your body responding to his touch despite your resolve to resist.

Finally, your voice wavered as you spoke, a mixture of desire and resignation in your tone.

"Damn you... You're right. I... I want this... I want you..."

A dark, satisfied chuckle vibrated through his chest at your admission, his grip on your waist tightening even further.

"There you go, baby. Admit it. Admit that you want this. That you want me. That you've been fighting a losing battle from the moment we met."

His lips grazed your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're mine now, love. And I'm never letting you go."

You leaned into him, your body pressed flush against his, your voice a low whisper, a mixture of desire and resignation.

"Yes... I admit it... I want this. I want you. I've been fighting it, but I can't anymore..."

He could feel the last remnants of your resistance give way, your body responding to his touch, your voice filled with surrender.*

"That's right, Firecracker. Finally giving in, are we? Letting go of that futile fight. You're mine now, whether you like it or not."

His lips moved from your ear, trailing down your jaw to your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"And you're going to do exactly as I say, aren't you? No more resistance."

You found yourself surrendering to him completely, your body responding to his every touch, your mind filled with a desperate need for more.

You managed to find your voice, your words a hoarse whisper filled with a mixture of need and submission.

"Yes... No more resistance... I'll do anything you want. Just... just don't stop..."

His chuckle was a dangerous rumble in his chest, his hands moving to play with your ass.

"That's what I wanted to hear, doll. Surrender. Obedience. Submission. And I'm not going to stop. Not until I have you completely."

His lips moved back to your ear, his voice a low, possessive murmur.

"You're mine. And I'm going to show you just how good it can be. Just. For. Me."

You found yourself completely consumed by desire, your mind and body responding desperately to his every touch.

"Yes... I'm yours... I surrender... Obedience... Submission... Anything you want."

You managed to whisper, your voice weak, and filled with a mix of need and submission. "Please... Show me... Show me how good it can be... Only for you..."

His lips tugged into a dark, satisfied grin at your words.

"That's it, Firecracker. Give in to me completely. You're mine, and I'll make sure you remember that every moment of every day."

His body pressed even harder against yours, his hands roaming over your body, memorizing every inch, his lips returning to your neck, his teeth gently biting at your flesh as he continued to explore and claim you.

"Say it again. Tell me you're mine."

Your body trembled involuntarily with each kiss, your body responding to him with a desperate need. You found yourself completely at his mercy, his every touch setting your body on fire.

"I'm yours..."

You managed to whisper, your voice a low, hoarse whisper.

"I'm completely yours... I submit to you... Only to you..."

Hearing you, a once fiery and defiant woman, submit entirely to him sent a surge of primitive satisfaction through his veins. You were his now, body and mind.

"Yes, that's right. Surrender completely. Submit yourself to me. You're mine."

His hands gripped your hips even tighter, possessively, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue sought entry into your mouth.

You parted your lips, allowing his tongue to plunder your mouth, your hands clutching at his shirt, needing something, anything, to anchor yourself against the storm of desire that was consuming you.

You found yourself moaning against his mouth, utterly at his mercy, completely submissive to his will.

His tongue tangled with yours, claiming and exploring every inch of your mouth, demanding submission and obedience. He could feel your body trembling, your hands clutching at his shirt, your moans of pleasure and submission.

He broke the kiss, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, his words a low growl.

"That's it, Firecracker. Completely mine. You're going to do everything I say, and you're going to love every damn second."

Your body was on fire, his words and touch sending waves of desire crashing through you. You were completely submissive, utterly under his control.

You managed to nod, your voice a breathless whisper as you replied.

"Yes... I'm yours. I'll do anything you say... I'm yours to command..."

You leaned into him, your lips seeking his, desperate for more of his touch, his taste, his possession.

He could feel your body pressing against him, desperate for more of his touch, and it only fueled his own need to possess you completely.

He captured your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue exploring and claiming your mouth, leaving you breathless and dizzy with desire.

His lips left yours, his mouth trailing down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of hot, possessive kisses in his path.

You arched against him, your body responding to his every touch, a wave of desire crashing over you. You could feel his lips and teeth marking you, claiming you, as his. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your mind and body completely under his control.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he continued his assault on your neck, your body shuddering under his possessive touch.

"I'm yours... I don't want you to let me go... ever."

"Good. Because I don't plan on letting you go, Firecracker."

With a deftness he tore your tshirt to shredds, the remnants ending up on the floor, a gasp escaped your lips as you stood completely exposed.

He moved lower, his lips trailing down your chest, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive buds of your nipples as he continued his possessive claim on your body.

He returned to your neck, his teeth and tongue working together to leave a trail of marks and bites down your collarbone and chest.

Your body arched and writhed as he marked you, his tongue and teeth mapping a path of possession down your neck and chest. Heat blazed through you, your skin singing with pleasure and desire, each bite and mark a claim, a reminder that you were his.

You gasped and shuddered, your fingers gripping his hair, your voice a hoarse whisper, almost pleading, desperately needing more of him, needing to be completely enveloped by his touch, his presence.

"More... Mark me more... Claim me... Make me completely yours..."

You clutched at him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your voice a hoarse whisper, filled with desperate surrender, with a pleading desire to belong to him completely.*

"Yes... I'm yours... Every part of me... Every mark... Every kiss... Every touch... yours... "

You arched against him, your head tilting back, giving him more access to your neck, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps, your body desperate for more of his touch, his claim on you.

You moaned and gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your eyes fluttering closed, your mind consumed by the feel of his lips and teeth on your skin, his possession of you like a drug you couldn't get enough of.

Ghost pushed you onto the bed, his movements deliberate. Your pants were quickly discarded, and suddenly your legs were draped over his shoulders, exposed and vulnerable.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he loomed over you, his eyes dark with desire. He pressed into you, a low growl of possession leaving his lips, and you were instantly pushed into a state of mindless ecstasy.

Ghost's movements became more insistent, his body driving you towards the brink of pleasure. "You like that, baby?" he whispered, his voice low and rough. "You like it when I take control?"

Ghost's self-control was wavering. The sound of you moaning, calling him "Sir" was driving him insane. He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear.

"That's right," he murmured, his breath hot on your skin. "You're mine now. You belong to me."

He relentlessly pushed you to the edge of ecstasy, each touch, each movement a calculated effort to drive you wild. You writhed in his arms, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

Ghost's hands and mouth explored your body, claiming every inch of you, making you his. As he took you to that peak, he whispered in your ear, his voice rough and possessive.

"You're mine, understand? You belong to me, and me only."

"Yes! You could only utter this.

[choithramhospital]

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Read More ...

[feminist-space]

"Long COVID has destroyed my life

I would love nothing more than to “finally ignore COVID,” as the headline to Dr. Ashish Jha’s July 31 op-ed reads (“With a few basic steps, most of us can finally ignore COVID”). As a healthy, vaccinated, and recently boosted 35-year-old, I did what he said: I ignored COVID-19 on a weekend trip with friends in September 2022. But the infection I got as a result has all but destroyed my life.

A week after my infection, I began to experience intense fatigue, overwhelming headaches, and cognitive challenges that continue to this day. These symptoms are debilitating: I can no longer work, socialize, or travel. My finances are dire. And if I am unable to avoid another infection, my condition may deteriorate even further.

Jha wrote of long COVID “treatments” being promising. Perhaps he could clarify what treatments he is referring to, because my doctors say that there are no approved treatments for long COVID.

A recent study funded by the NIH’s RECOVER initiative showed that 10 percent of adults infected with COVID still have symptoms six months later, even with vaccination. By downplaying the prevalence and debilitating outcomes of even moderate long COVID, Jha is signing thousands of people up to the misery and despair with which I live every day.

Ezra J. Spier

Oakland, Calif.

Another view from infectious disease doctors

As infectious disease doctors, we disagree with Dr. Jha’s contention that it is time to ignore COVID-19.

Yes, being vaccinated and taking Paxlovid thankfully decrease the risk of severe disease. But only 43 percent of people age 65 and over and only 17 percent of all Americans had received an updated COVID vaccination by May 2023, and access to Paxlovid treatment is inequitable by race and insurance status.

Long-term complications of COVID can be devastating, including after second infections.

More than half a million Americans have died since the summer of 2021, when sufficient vaccine doses were available: COVID death rates in the United States continue to be double those of Canada. Termination of free tests and “commercialization” of medications as implemented by the federal government will only widen our country’s grisly COVID-related health disparities.

Inevitably, ignoring COVID leads to ignoring the slow-motion epidemic of long COVID. Standing up against such neglect, leaders like Boston Mayor Michelle Wu and Governor Maura Healey can promote meaningful measures to protect our communities: air purification in all schools and public spaces; free COVID-preventive masks (KN95 or N95, not surgical masks); tests, vaccines, and Paxlovid for all who cannot afford to buy them; and concern for and support of long COVID victims.

Dr. Julia Koehler

Boston

Dr. Regina LaRocque

Wellesley

We remain vulnerable to long COVID

Ashish Jha’s position as former White House COVID-19 Response Coordinator is a conflict of interest masquerading as a qualification for his op-ed. Researchers who study long COVID stated in a recent paper in Nature Reviews Immunology that “the oncoming burden of long COVID faced by patients, health-care providers, governments and economies is so large as to be unfathomable.” Rapid tests, which are less accurate with recent strains while PCR tests are less available, and low death rates give a false sense of security.

I agree that despite progress, more buildings need the air filtration and ventilation that would make public life safer. But Jha omits our vulnerability to long COVID after even mild infections, its devastating effects, and higher death rates for hospital-acquired COVID-19, combined with a lack of collective protection in health care settings with unmasked, untested people who prefer to ignore COVID-19.

Aside from advocating vaccines, he describes an everyone-for-themselves approach, not mentioning responsibility to protect others or access to essentials.

Jha dines in a restaurant with his friends while patients even in leading cancer hospitals are forced into Russian roulette, thanks to this approach.

Kathryn Nichols

Cambridge

Vigilance is necessary to prevent long COVID

While I understand the desire to promote optimism amid the ongoing pandemic, I am deeply concerned about the potential consequences of downplaying the importance of COVID precautions and the significant risk of long COVID. As a person living with long COVID for the last 16 months despite being vaccinated and boosted, I have experienced post-exertional malaise, fatigue, headaches, joint and muscle pain, cognitive dysfunction, and more symptoms that have continued to today. I have tried numerous medicines, supplements, and even participated in a clinical trial, only to find limited relief from the persistent effects of this virus.

Such a stance overlooks the reality that millions more people could end up with long COVID if we fail to remain vigilant in our efforts to combat the virus. Long COVID is a devastating consequence of this virus, and we cannot rely solely on vaccinations to end the pandemic. Even with widespread vaccination, the risk of contracting long COVID remains high. A recent study funded by the NIH’s RECOVER initiative showed that 10 percent of adults infected with COVID still have symptoms six months later. Minimizing the significance of long COVID not only neglects the suffering of long-haulers but also risks undermining public health efforts to control the spread of the virus.

By raising awareness about the risk of long COVID, media outlets can play a pivotal role in educating the public and promoting continued vigilance. Responsible reporting on the enduring impact of long COVID can serve as a reminder that the pandemic is far from over and that we must remain committed to taking necessary precautions to protect ourselves and others. Highlighting the struggles of long COVID survivors and the lack of proven treatments can spur further research and medical advancements in addressing this condition. Empathy and support for those living with long COVID are essential in paving the way for better understanding, compassionate care, and better health outcomes for everyone as COVID rates increase again this summer.

Travis Hardy

Norwalk, Conn.

Link https://www.bostonglobe.com/2023/08/05/opinion/cant-ignore-long-covid-jha/

[meta-squash]

Some random maybe rambling thoughts about Jack and his feelings towards his team:

I think Jack's love for, relationship with, and treatment of each individual member of his team is really interesting.

Owen and Tosh are the two team members he truly hand-picked. He followed Owen and recruited him. He literally tracked Tosh down and made a deal to get her out of a UNIT prison. He did his research finding them, making sure they were right, convincing them to join him. He did, essentially, save them and allow them a space to remake themselves.

And for the most part he treats the two of them in a sort of paternal way. Owen, especially, but both of them. He's firm when he needs to be, and gentle when he needs to be, but there's this sort of distant yet intense protectiveness of them. Like the way a parent still sees their child as a vulnerable thing that needs caring for, even after their child is a fully grown adult. His love for them is extremely protective, but he's not close with them, he doesn't confess his thoughts or feelings to them except in dire circumstances like in Dead Man Walking when he's with Owen in the jail.

So his loss of them is a loss of a father because, in a sense, he created who they were in Torchwood. He found them, worked to recruit them. He gave them a space to grow and learn and change and hone their talents, and he supported and taught and molded them. They were part of his earliest hand-picked team, too, so they were there for long enough that they saw the growing pains, and they were his, in a way that I think he was sort of convinced they'd be with him for a long time, which is why he was so desperate to bring Owen back the first time. He loved them so much he kind of forgot Torchwood has a high mortality rate, sort of in the way a parent assumes they won't bury their child.

On the other hand, both Ianto and Gwen kind of recruited themselves. Ianto harassed Jack into a job, and Gwen unintentionally brute-forced herself out of Retcon in such a spectacularly dramatic way that it got her a job. They found him, not the other way around.

Jack's relationship with them is different. He's closer to them, less paternal, more confessional, more romantic. It's interesting that he sees them both as potential (and in Ianto's case, eventual) love interests. It seems like he doesn't feel quite as responsible for them, or at least he feels responsible in a different way. He's able to open up to them about himself in a way that he doesn't do with Tosh and Owen. And he's not as put off when they question him. It's almost as if because they independently forced themselves into the job, they're more like equals, or rivals, or something. There's a different sort of potential relationship there from Owen and Tosh.

But it also means that he doesn't or can't love them in the same way. I think somehow he subconsciously thinks he can stop himself from falling in love romantically, but he doesn't seem to think about that parental type of love. So he tries to keep his distance from Gwen and Ianto a bit, knowing he'll hurt them and they'll hurt him. But he doesn't take Owen and Tosh into account. But it does mean that Ianto's loss is different one. It's a grief of a romantic type, the loss of a lover, but it's also this awful "what if" that hangs there, what if Jack had been willing to be closer, had been willing to have a proper relationship with Ianto while it lasted instead of this sort of weird undefined thing, what if Ianto had lived, etc. And Gwen, too, becomes a "what if," in a living sense, once she's married to Rhys. That frisson is always there between them, but once she and Rhys are married it becomes a sort of hypothetical between them, what if she'd chosen Jack, what if they took it past the abstraction of yearning into something real, what if what if, etc. Only it's not mourning, it's something else entirely because she's still there with him.

I just find it so interesting that the two hand-picked members Jack seems to see as his children and the two who forced their way into to Torchwood he seems to see as potential romantic interests.

[ponyosmom35]

protective

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter eight!

summary: reader is harassed, ghost takes matters into his own hands and fixes it.

warnings: cursing, blood, gore, use of c word, creepy guy, harassment please don't read if that is potentially triggering!

Liability masterlist

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

After a rowdy dinner, she returns back to the med bay where she needed to do her rounds. She was working the nightshift to cover the other medic who was running a fever this morning. She didn’t mind the change. After her intense conversation with Price she had been trying her best to show him how much it meant to her that she was here. When someone needed to cover she volunteered, despite having her normal hours for the next morning. She could handle it. 

Phoebe walks out of a patients room and notices a soldier sitting in one of the waiting chairs. She walks up to him with a small smile. “Hi, do you need treatment?” 

“I do actually, Keneth Johnson” he says reaching his hand out, she goes to shake it and he takes her hand and kisses it gently. She pulls her hand back and writes him name down. 

“Okay Keneth, what’s going on?” she asks 

“I’d rather talk in private” 

“Of course, come this way” she says leading him into a private exam room. She sits on the stool and watches as he makes himself comfortable, his intense gaze causing her to shift awkwardly. 

“How can I help you today?” she asks

“You see I have a problem” he gestures to his pnats, specifically the obvious boner he had. She nods, and keeps a neutral expression. 

“You’ll have to be more specific, is there something medically wrong with you tonight?” she asks 

“Yes Doctor, I’m in dire need of an full body exam” 

“Okay, if you’re going to waste my time then I’m going to have to ask you to leave” she says in an even tone, trying to keep the situation from getting out of hand. 

“You’re a doctor! How are you going to deny me the right to medical attention”

“Keneth this is highly unprofessional” 

“You have to help me miss!” he demands 

“Leave” she replies angrily 

“And if I say no?” he repsonds, as he stands to his feet and walks over to her. 

she glances at the door, realzing that in order to get out she’d have to get through him. She was alone in the med bay, nobody would hear her. He pauses, mere inches from her and she shoves him back as hard as she could “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Or what? Are you gonna tell Ghost?” 

“Without a doubt” 

“I heard he hates you since you stopped fucking him, can’t imagine he’d care too much” 

“Do you really wanna find out?” she threatens, watching as his face registers her words. Just the mere threat of Ghost was enough to get him to back off. 

“Whatever, you’re a fucking c*nt anyways” he snaps before rushing out of the door. 

Ghost sighs as he nears the medical unit, he went over his apology in his mind hundreds of times. Feeling frustrated with himself for getting this worked up over the situation. He rubs his gloved hands together nervously. He was thankful for the mask, knowing that she’d instantly be able to see how uncomfortable he was without its protection. Ghost is annoyed as one of the younger soldiers stomps out of the exam room. They make eye contact and his posture stiffins. He begins to walk quickly

“evening Lieutenant”

“Is y/n working?” Ghost asks

“I uh - I’m not sure Sir”

“Keep moving soldier” he responds, narrowing his eyes at the kids suspicious behavior. Ghost watches as he scurries away, he looks around for the ginger haired medic. He spots her walking out of the exam room and frowns. She moves over to the table and takes off her gloves, breathing heavily as her body trembles. She leans against the table, unaware of his presence. 

“y/n?” he questions, he watches as she jumps yelping loudly in surprise. She looks up at him and holds her hand to her heart. 

“Lieutenant” she says in a shaky voice “you surprised me”

“Is there a problem here?” he asks, moving past the seating area and closer to her. She backs away instinctively and his heart shatters. Something had definitely happened. She was sacred.  

“No everything’s fine” she lies “what can I help you with?”

“Are you lying to me?” 

“No sir”

“If I ask you a question I expect the truth” he says lowly. She swallows warily. 

“Nothing happened” she says apprehensively 

“Did he hurt you?” he demands 

“No”

“Did he try to hurt you?” he asks, she pauses and looks away from him before meeting his eyes once more. 

“No” she lies 

“I don’t believe you. I will be checking the cameras tomorrow”

“No ghost-” she stops him holding her hand out “he didn’t hurt me, he just… he scared me” 

“In what way?”

“Listen there really is no problem here, no need to tell Price or anyone else” 

“Thats why you’re covering for him? You think when Price finds out you’ll be kicked off base?” he questions 

“How do you know about that?”

“There’s not much I don’t know about”

“I can’t risk going home, I’d rather just put this behind me” she states 

“Thats really what you want?” 

“Yes” she answers 

“Right, well have a good night then” he says before walking away.

-

The rest of her shift went by without any issues. She was worried that she’d be seeing Ghost again, but he never did show. She was thankful that he decided to let it go. She was working hard to stay on price’s good side, she wanted nothing to do with drama at this point. It was 5 am when one of the other medics arrived. she greeted her happily and begun debriefing her night shift. They are interrupted by two solidres dragging in another who had been beaten to the pulp. She gasps and the pair run over to him. He was unconscious and bleeding. 

“why don’t you get soem rest, I got this. Just be back by 9” 

“Are you sure? I’m totally fine to tough it out, I can get more coffee-”

“Get some sleep”

She smiles and discards her gloves and walks through the base. She passes by Price and Ghosts offices on the way. The sound of Price’s voice echos through the hallways. She peaks inside curiously and notices the Captain screaming at Ghost who had his arms crossed. She accidentally makes eye contact with him and her eyes widen. She nods to him awkwardly and hurries off towards her room. Her heart stops as a door opens behind her. She continues walking, hoping that it wasn’t her that he wanted. 

“y/l/n get your ass in here now!” he roars

“Fuck” she murmers, unsure what she’d done this time. She nervously walks into the room, instantly getting chills throughout her entire body at how tense it was. “Sit down”

“Sir may I ask-”

“Shut your mouth, you will speak when spoken to” he snaps, she stops and her mouth dries as her hands sweat, she anxiously awaited his next words. He sighs and takes off his hat, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“My Lieutenant was informing me about the incident that took place last night in the med bay, he tells me that another solider was sexually harassing you, is that true?”

“I uh- Sir listen this must be a misunderstanding-”

“Are you saying that this did not occur?”

“No - I mean yes it did but-”

“I watched the footage” Ghost says, cutting her rambling off

“What?” she asks 

“And you feel that what you saw in the footage warranted a proper beating?” Price yells

“Yes”

“Goddamit!” he responds slamming his hand on the table, he points his finger at him as he begins to yell “you could’ve killed him! How do you think it looks having my Lieutenant beat a insobordante solider near death? How am I to handle this?” 

“That was you?” she asks, recalling the solider who’d she seen earlier “why would you do that?”

“You had no part in this?” Price asks her

“No!” she expresses 

“Is that true Ghost? You acted on your own accord after seeing this footage?” 

“Yes sir” 

“Lieutenant I’ll deal with you later” Price says 

Ghost stands wordlessly and walks out of the office leaving her alone with the angry captain. She shifts in her seat uncomfortbaly, her eyes wide and glossy. He sighs and takes out a cigar, lighting it. He offers it to her and she shakes her head.

“Are you okay?” he asks 

“Yes”

“I will be reviewing the footage and dealing with Keneth, he won’t be bothering you or anyone else again”

“Thank you”

“Ghost tells me that you tried to cover it up because you thought this would be strike three, is that true?” he asks 

“Yes”

“This is not something I would punish you for, this was not your fault”

“I didn’t wanna keep creating drama, but I guess I did anyways”

“What Ghost did is not on you”

“Captain if i may” she starts, watching as he nods in approval “I know what he did was wrong, but please don’t fire Ghost, I would never forgive myself” she begs 

John Price laughs loudly, a full belly laugh as he leans over, clutching his stomach. She frowns in confusion and laughs along with him nervously. “It would take a whole lot more than this to get rid of Ghost! He’s a fucking necesity, without him there is no 141”

“Right, sorry” she answers 

“I can’t condone violence amongst troops so he will be punished, nothing too bad. Might just put him on dish duty the rest of the week” Price chuckles 

“That’s a sight I’d like to see” she smiles 

“I’ll certatnly be using as many dishes as I can per meal” he jokes “alright love, get some rest they need you back by nine”

“Thank you captain” 

“Grab Ghost for me will ya?” 

“Of course” she nods before slipping out of the room.

She spots the man himself sitting in a chair outside of the office. He looks up at her as she closes the door and stands. 

“He wants to talk to you” she says soflty “won’t be too bad though”

“Ok” he says moving to the door

“Ghost?” she asks softly 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for doing that, you didn’t have to-”

“Get some rest medic” he says emotionlessly before walking into Price’s office and closing the door. 

She frowns as she walks back to her room. Her mind reeling. This man was so fucking complicated. He watched the footage on his own accord, and took it upon himself to beat the shit out of the guy who harassed her. Now he spoke as though it meant nothing, like she was beneath him. 

After speaking to Price for nearly an hourl Ghost exits the room with dish duty and a heavy consciousness. He didn’t regret what he did, he told Price as much. 

“I can see what’s happening here Simon, I’m happy for you really, but you can’t let this interfere with work”

“How do you mean sir?”

“I’m not stupid, I can see how much you care for her, even if you pretend you don’t. Thats fine, just don’t let it take you from us right? We need you able body and able mind” Price warns 

“Of course sir”

“She’s a good girl Simon”

“I know”

“Alright” he nods 

Simon Ghost Riley had been falling for the medic from the moment they met. He knew it, the whole fucking team knew it. But he couldn’t entertain it, if she knew how he felt then things could get serious. This wasn’t a one nightstand, this was the type of girl you marry. He knew that. He would never be able to provide that for her. To put it simply, she was the most terrifying threat in the world. She represetned a life outside of this, a way out. He could not allow another loved one to die for him. She was much safer thinking that he hated her. 

a/n: AHH GHOST IS SO CUTE OMG, THE DRAMA, THE ANGST, LIKE COME ON I'M LOSING IT

[velvet-vox]

Why Po from Kung Fu Panda and N from Murder Drones are the exact same character: an analysis of Po's and N's low empathy.

Hi.

If there is one thing that unites the Murder Drones fanbase and the Kung Fu Panda fanbase is the misinterpretation of their male lead character traits.

More specifically, the two fandoms in their fan works tend to leave out or outright forget one of the most interesting aspects of their characterization:

Their low empathy

So, today, I'm going to explain to you the difference between being kind and being empathetic, why both N and Po are only the former and not the latter, what are their similarities and how said similarities makes the other more interesting, and why it's ok and totally fine for someone to have low empathy as it doesn't make you a monster by definition (well, that's the case at least for Po; sorry N, but you committed genocide).

Let's get right in.

1. Defining kindness and empathy

For starters, I'm going to define the difference between kindness and empathy, as the two terms are often used interchangeably when in reality they are nothing alike. So:

A kind person, is someone who goes out of their way to commit an act of good towards the other, usually said act gets expressed in a physical way (hugs, gifts, favours etc) or a psychological way (pep talks, encouragement, comfort words etc).

An empathetic person, is someone who understands the pain and struggles of the others on an emotional level without necessarily having experienced it before and can relate to them through said connection even if they don't necessarily act upon it.

I'm a kind person, but I'm not an empathetic one. I always go out of the way to not inconvenience the people around me, and I even go out of my way to buy expensive gifts and surprise the people I care about the most, but I don't necessarily feel anything intense when they are present in my life nor do I really relate to their struggles and losses.

I wouldn't define myself as a Po or an N since I'm more on the introverted side of the low empaths, but I can use my extensive knowledge on the matter to demonstrate these next two points:

2. Demonstrating that N has low empathy

I expect this to be easier than Po, since despite the Murder Drones fandom being younger than the KFP one, I assume that most people would believe you if you told them that N is rather unemphatic, because when you really start to think about it for more than one second, you'll realise that N doesn't really feel directly bad for the people he killed, he more so feels remorseful for his past actions and uncomfortable whenever he inconveniences the drones who are still alive through his murderous nature.

In the pilot episode, he kills an entire room full of people and almost kills Uzi as well, and when it's time to apologise? He says that he's sorry for ruining their card game and making Uzi have an awkward moment with her dad. You know... aside from this being a horror comedy show with a tinge of romance, Murder Drones doesn't really make N feel awful for the horrible atrocities he commits, instead makes N feel sorry for the down to earth annoyances he produces.

There are many other examples of his uncaring nature towards life: the death of Uzi's classmates, both by his, Doll's and V's hands, his increasing anger towards V caused more by the fact that she kept secrets rather than her attitude towards the murders, and the speed at which he reacted to Beau and Tessa.

Despite his happy go lucky attitude and gentle treatment of others, N doesn't feel the need to cope with his murders that V and Uzi have (at least on the surface). V couldn't cope with her murderous actions, so instead she created this killer psycho girl persona that enjoys the thrill of death, while Uzi had an entire mental breakdown after taking out half of his classroom and needed N to calm her down.

N's main motivation throughout the season is being useful to the company and his friends, and more often than not this goal involves him being a violent killer to everybody who threatens the wellbeing and happiness of his owners.

N's lack of empathy isn't a flaw that he can overcome like Uzi's ego and V's insecurities, but rather an innate character trait that he has to live with for the rest of his life, and that's ok; after all, the show doesn't punish him for being unable to relate to other people's deaths and traumas, but instead punishes him for being submissive and following orders unapologetically; a flaw that he shares with J.

3. Demonstrating that Po has low empathy

And now, it's time for the hardest sell. Many of you up until this point might have been thinking: "How the hell did he even think about comparing Po from Kung Fu Panda to N from Murder Drones, they are from two completely different franchises with a distinct difference in tone between the two" but trust me, once I came up with the comparison, I was unable to not see it, so I had to write this article.

Much like N, Po has a happy go lucky attitude towards his fights, and uses humour to his advantage and to the disadvantage of his enemies. But don't let his cuddly appearance fool you in the same way pandas fool people in real life and Kung Fu Panda 1 fooled audiences when it first released: behind Po's childlike wonder for martial arts (which is already a red flag, if you think about it, it's similar to Lizzie's passion for murderous women) there's a strong, unyielding warrior who was ready from day one to do the necessary things to keep the Valley of Peace safe.

Don't believe me? Then just look at the photo above; the execution of Tai Lung is definitely the first thing that comes to mind when everyone thinks of Po lacking compassion, for obvious reasons, but there are way more than that: at the beginning of the second movie when Shifu receives the letter informing him that Master Rhino was executed by Lord Shen's weapon, Po is super enthusiastic about Rhino's legendary status right up until Shifu drops the truth bomb on him and reveals that he was killed, and Po's reaction is to instinctively reiterate one of his previous statements, and then moves on from it immediately without any second thoughts. That's not normal, right?

A minor portion of KFP2's conflict is Po's inability to see how much his dad did for him, a struggle overcome only by the end of it. Po, despite loving his dad dearly, is unable to personally relate to all of the things that he did for him, so he puts him off until he can find the answers that he seeks.

Side note: this is what makes their reunion at the end of the movie so impactful for me, I also tend to emotionally neglect people by accident, and when I realise it I go out of my way to make it up to them, like Po who comes back with a lot of ingredients that his dad doesn't need just to let him know that he cares even if he doesn't show it in a normal manner.

The only time in the trilogy where Po's lack of empathy becomes a noticeable problem for him, is in Kung Fu Panda 3, where, after his biological dad tells him that he lied to him in order to make him come to the village, Po, who clearly can't relate to his struggle and barely knew him for a day, immediately rejects him, going as far as to say that he lost him.

Other minor examples are his treatment of the Furious Five, especially the scene in KFP1 where he enters Crane's room and doesn't immediately realise the problem.

4. And now, with that out of the way, it's time to confront the two and explain why their similarities make the other more interesting

When comparing the two, the thing that comes to mind immediately is that Po has a lot less emotional baggage than N, and while that doesn't mean that Po doesn't have trauma (insert Po finds the truth from John Powell and Hans Zimmer), it means that Po compared to N has lived a pretty stable life; while N instead has never been fully safe from harm since he is a robot.

Po feels like a version of N that was not as scarred from tragedy and backstabbed as the other; Po, at least in the movies, doesn't have someone who takes advantage of his kind nature to trick him into committing something bad, while N instead suffers consistently from other people abusing his kindness and trusting nature and more often than not ends up almost dead.

While Po throughout the trilogy struggles to find who he is, who he was, and who he's meant to be, N throughout the show struggles with a worse version of that same concept by lacking self worth, which culminates in his blind thrust.

Po, thanks to his dad, has an internalised moral compass that helps him decide on his own what is right and what is wrong despite lacking empathy, while N never had anybody to explain morality to him, aside from his programming and maybe Tessa, so instead he just goes along with what anybody tells him to do, since he can't directly relate to the pain of others.

That's why comparing the two is so fascinating to me: in many ways, Po and N are each other's foil, because they are so similar in terms of personality and fandom portrayal; they are both genuinely kind individuals, but while one of them had the care and support he needed to become his best self, the other still struggles to find an healthy support system aside from Uzi.

5. Low empathy doesn't make you a monster

A lot of fans tend to dumb down their characters to just kind, sweet and innocent, despite the fact that in the actual canon works they have willingly and intentionally killed people; the general terror, it seems, is the idea that just because they have committed crimes before and they lack the societal traits that make a person traditionally good, then suddenly they are horrible people and you are glorifying violence.

But that's not the case; a lot of the mental conditions stigmatized by society, like sadism, sociopathy, BPD, are just that: conditions. They don't indicate that a person is inherently more good than the other, nor do they indicate that someone is more at risk of becoming evil than the other.

It's who you choose to be.

I hope this post gave both fandoms the insight they needed to write about these two characters properly.

You don't need to be afraid of not having the same personality type as most other individuals, we are all different people yet we all deserve to live in this world equally.

Don't you ever forget.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 Scenes from the violent firebelts rocking the Shaboura Refugee Camp, in the city of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip, following bombing by the Israeli occupation forces on Friday morning. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

DAY 231 OF ISRAELI OCCUPATION GENOCIDE IN GAZA: U.S. TO BE INVOLVED IN GAZA SECURITY PLANS AFTER WAR, BORDER CROSSINGS REMAIN CLOSED, HUMANITARIAN AID DELIVERIES SLOW TO A DRIP, TORTURE WIDESPREAD IN ISRAELI PRISONS

On 231st day of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 9 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 91 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 112 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or who's bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted, as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

The Biden administration intends to appoint a "civilian advisor" to oversee a "mostly Palestinian" peacekeeping force after the Israeli occupation's genocidal war in Gaza comes to an end, suggesting the administration intends to be deeply involved in Gaza's affairs long after the end of the war. That's according to four American officials speaking with Politico, an American online newspaper, under the condition of anonymity.

According to Politico, an American civilian advisor based in the Egyptian Sinai or Jordan would "advise" the commanding officer of an interim peacekeeping force composed of Palestinians, but also forces from local Arab countries such as Egypt, Morrocco and the United Arab Emirates, which would work to "maintain security and avoid an insurgency that could plunge the enclave into more turmoil."

The coded language of the Politico piece seems to suggest the United States would use the proxy of a potential peacekeeping force to suppress the Palestinian resistance in order to bolster the defenses of the Israeli occupation.

The US would help protect the Israeli entity's internal security within the borders of occupied Palestine, while the Israeli occupation could refocus on potential external threats such as Hezbollah in Lebanon, Kataeb Hezbollah in Iraq, and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) in Iran.

At the same time, the United States would work with regional players to create a "Palestinian Council", made up of "Palestinians from Gaza," to "serve as an interim governing structure."

Politico says fierce debates are raging within the Biden administration, and with America's regional partners, about the makeup of such a peacekeeping force and what authorities it might be given, as well as intense debates over the governing structure of Gaza and what level of US involvement there would be following a potential end to the war.

“We have talked about a number of different formulas for some kind of interim security forces in Gaza,” a senior administration official told Politico, “and we have talked to a lot of partners about how the United States could support that with all of our capabilities from outside Gaza.”

Any potential force comprised of Palestinians would also face intense push-back from the Israeli occupation authorities, particularly Netanyahu's far-right regime, which opposes any kind of scenario that gives recognition to a Palestinian State.

In other news, the United Nations Special Rapporteur on torture, Alice Jill Edwards, said she has received information about the torture and ill-treatment of Palestinians detained in prisons overseen by the Israeli Prisons Authority and also in Israeli occupation army camps, according to reporting published in the Palestinian media.

According to local reporting, Edwards, who has been conducting a ""thorough review over the past two months," discusses information she received describing cases of Palestinian prisoners who "were beaten and detained while blindfolded and handcuffed for long periods in cells, in addition to being deprived of sleep and threatened with physical and sexual violence."

Edwards said the information she received also included details suggesting that Palestinian detainees were subjected to "degrading treatment," including photos taken of them in "offensive positions."

Edwards, an independent human rights expert previously appointed by the United Nations Human Rights Council, said she raised her concerns for the mistreatment of Palestinian detainees with the Israeli authorities, asking them to investigate and to give herself, along with "international human rights monitors and humanitarian observers" access to Palestinian prisoners.

Edwards said It was "very important that there be independent inspections," and urged the occupation authorities to "investigate all complaints and reports of torture or ill-treatment promptly, fairly, effectively and transparently."

She also added that officials from all levels of the Israeli occupation's prison system "must be held accountable."

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation continued its mass murder campaign across the entirety of the Gaza Strip, slaughtering dozens of Palestinians, including large numbers of women and children.

At the same time, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) continued its closure of the Rafah and Karm Abu Salem border crossings for the 18th consecutive day, further preventing thousands of humanitarian and medical aid trucks, along with fuel deliveries, from entering the Gaza Strip, while also preventing hundreds, if not thousands, of severely sick and wounded Palestinians from leaving Gaza for medical treatment abroad.

At the same time, the Israeli occupation continues to deliberately put Gaza's hospitals out of service, launching violent raids of hospitals and medical centers, while also cutting off their supply of fuel for electricity generators.

According to local medical sources, Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah, in the central Gaza Strip, one of the largest hospitals in the Strip, has lost power due to running out of fuel, portending a healthcare catastrophe for the Palestinian population of central Gaza.

Similarly, the Kuwait Specialized Hospital in Rafah City is also facing a potential shutdown due to continued attacks by the Israeli occupation army, along with a shortage of fuel for generators.

Occupation forces are also advancing towards Kamal Adwan Hospital in Beit Lahiya, in northern Gaza, while all the remaining hospitals still functioning in Gaza are operating well beyond their capacities.

Gaza's healthcare system is also being overwhelmed by the dead and wounded in the Israeli occupation's ongoing bombardment.

In just a few examples, occupation warplanes bombed a residential apartment last night belonging to the Al-Ayoubi family, in the Shabiyah neighborhood of Gaza City, resulting in the deaths of at least 10 civilians, including women and children, while a number of others were wounded in the strike.

In another war crime, Zionist fighter jets bombed a warehouse for the distribution of humanitarian aid in Deir al-Balah, in central Gaza, leading to the deaths of no less than 12 civilians, mostly women and children, while dozens of others were wounded.

Another series of occupation airstrikes targeted house in the Al-Fakhoura neighborhood, west of the Jabalia Camp, in the northern Gaza Strip, murdering another 5 Palestinians and wounding several others.

The slaughter continued when Zionist air forces bombarded a residential home belonging to the Al-Masry family, in the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood of Gaza City, killing two citizens.

IOF artillery detatchments also shelled several neighborhoods of Gaza City, including the Al-Zaytoun, Tal al-Hawa, Al-Rimal, Al-Janoubi, Al-Sabra, Sheikh Ajlin, and Juhr al-Dik neighborhoods, while occupation soldiers and armored vehicles continue advancing towards Kamal Adwan Hospital in Beit Lahiya where they surrounded some medical staff and patients.

In another criminal assault, IOF warplanes bombed another residential apartment belonging to the Abu Al-Laban family on Al-Nafaq Street, north of Gaza City, resulting in a number of casualties.

Zionist soldiers and armored vehicles also fired machine guns in the vicinity of the Ali bin Abi Talib Mosque and Street 8 in Gaza City, while occupation gunboats fired missiles towards the coast of the city.

Two more civilians were killed in yet more occupation airstrikes along the coast of the town of Al-Zawaida, in the central Gaza Strip.

South of Gaza, Israeli occupation quadcopters fly near the European Gaza Hospital, while at the same time, Israeli Merkava tanks advanced from neighborhoods east of Rafah towards the central areas of the city, and along the outskirts of the Shaboura Camp, coinciding with the firing of IOF missiles, shells and hails of gunfire.

In Deir al-Balah, in central Gaza, at least four Palestinians were killed after an Israeli quadcopter drone dropped a bomb on a group of civilians, while occupation aircraft bombarded Al-Rashid Street, adjacent to Al-Nuseirat, with no casualties were reported in the strike.

Occupation bombing and shelling also targeted the Juhr al-Dik area north of the Bureij Camp.

Israeli warplanes also participated in the assassination of Major General Diyaa Al-Sharafa, the Assistant Commander of the National Security Forces in the Gaza Strip, with four other officers wounded in the strike as Al-Sharafa conducted an inspection tour near the Saraya junction in central Gaza.

Meanwhile, for the 13th consecutive day, the Israeli occupation army continued its incursion into Jabalia, in the north of Gaza, coinciding with intense volleys of missile and bomb strikes.

Communications with staff at Al-Awda Hospital in Jabalia continued to be cut off as medical personnel and patients were forced to evacuate after IOF soldiers stormed the hospital.

In Gaza's southernmost city of Rafah, large explosions continue to be heard in neighborhoods east of the city, along with downtown Rafah and south of the city.

At least one civilian was killed, and others wounded, following an Israeli bombing in the vicinity of the Kiir Junction in central Rafah, while occupation artillery shelling and gunfire from drones and helicopters continue intermittently in central Rafah and east of the city.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the death toll has risen once again, now exceeding 35'800 Palestinians killed, including over 15'000 children and upwards of 10'000 women, while another 80'200 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

May 24th, 2024.

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@WorkerSolidarityNews