#so high quality you can see all the details on his nurse pin

[sweetpaintedladie]

©️Peter Webb, 1971

[inforapound]

Ease The Dawn  P.2  Ch.9

A/N - Thank you so much for reading and thank you for your likes and comments. Its really been motivating so thanks. 

Pairing - Ivar and Aethelswith   Words - 2,500        

Warnings - Historically inaccurate language, Canadian spelling, bratty Ivar

The sounds of etching on paper tricked his mind into feeling as if he had lived that very moment before. There was something in the way those scratches on her smooth paper warmed his senses, tugging at something deep in his stomach. Perhaps, his body without the influence of his mind was recalling a time in his life when he was most content. Without a city to govern with the backdrop of retaliation, no religion or struggles for power, no toils to be heard, only the comforting, addictive experience of being alone with his Aethelswith.

It left him to wonder if their love, at the beginning, was what kept them together now or would it be their love at the end that would define their lives. That is what he chose to believe regardless of their current trials. Their strength to endure each other's impediments is what set them apart as if they had walked this same soil but in another life, side by side, in another time. Only the Gods held the wisdom to explain the truth but when it came to their destinies being tied, he knew in his bones he was right.

Studying her now, with her eyes down, the thin wisps of black in her drawing beginning to take shape, he watched the way her tongue slid out of her mouth, running back and forth over her lip. A sign of her most poised concentration as her hands created the image already complete in her imagination. She, herself, was a work of art. Perfectly carved. Each feature of her face exquisitely created. If he had sat down with Frigg herself and explained every detail he desired in the appearance of his one-day true love, Aethelswith was truly the result.

Something in the way her body held still, her mind utterly focussed on her drawing that made him want to throw his cup of ale onto the sketch of the vase of flowers. Spoil it all and draw her attention back to him. Attention he was so desperately craving. She was a cruel little thing, he thought, as his eyes roamed over her body.

If it had been his decision their union would have been blessed upon arriving home from England. So, on slow afternoons like the current one, they could be spending their time on more meaningful endeavors. The one he had on his mind, at the moment, involved her sitting on his face. Yes, that would be nice, he sighed with a groan, his eyes tracing the line of her silhouette, savouring how each time she leaned forward, he could spy down the front of her dress.

Do not start, he silently scolded himself, sidelining the thought, knowing the slip up the previous week when he succumbed to her tricks only undermined him. He may be mightier than most warriors, possess transcendent qualities, Gods-like even, but he was still a man with a very lonely prick with a beautiful queen with a beautiful cunt. GODS, he thought to himself, grumbling under his breath, adjusting his cock straining in his leathers. As his woman, he knew she understood the two urges that drove him, fucking and killing and the latter, these days, was providing him no thrill at all.

Clearing his throat, he watched her, waiting for her to glance up. Grunting through his nose when she didn't.

"If you were wondering... I am still suffering," he cleared his throat again, "touching you that once provided no relief."

"None?" she asked, her lips pressed together, her soft blue eyes staying fixed on the striations forming the feathers of a bird's wing.

Dropping his head to one side, his eyes bore into her, feeling impatient. She had a lot of nerve to answer with levity, following such a sincere admission. Looking over to the crackling fire, he snapped his gaze back, glaring in a way that would make a blind man uncomfortable. Sulking down further into his chair, he lowered his chin still observing her.

"This is worse than before.... Before...you know. I should know better but I am a loving, passionate person, after all, so it is your fault Aethelswith. You would think that I would be used to you disappointing me by now. But here we are."

Scoffing under her breath, she blinked up to him, her eyes providing not a shred of sympathy. What a feisty, fierce woman, he thought, fit inside a miniature, enticing body. Disregarding her unimpressed gaze, he wet his lips, shrugging his shoulders as if her attitude was to be expected.

"But I will say, Aethelswith, that if you carry on to much longer, clutching your hollow values as you do, I might have to start jerking off in front of one of those ambitious slaves."

"That would be Freydis."

Scrunching his nose in disgust, he twisted his lips up. "My high standards would not allow for that."

"Only royalty for the king?"

"Only you for the king," he clucked his tongue and winked.

Biting her lip between her teeth, she stared out from between her long, blonde lashes. He could see she was fighting the urge to laugh.

"If you were wondering...." Tipping her head, she shot him a coy smile, "You, Ivar Ragnarsson, are a shit."

"Nice language, Aethelswith!" he scolded with a grin. "You talk to your god with that mouth?"

Smirking to herself, he could tell that she was holding back some perverse, witty comment. Instead, she looked back to her drawing, her hand resuming the soft scores across the parchment.

Huffing at her lack of response, his smile faded and his eyes roamed the room before settling back on her, still, in his opinion, ignoring him and being rude.

"Aethelswith?"

Looking up, she lifted her brows.

"It hurts me that you drive me to say such awful things to you. I hope you realize this entire rift is your doing. Because of your God."

"Ivar, this is such a lovely quiet day. Can we please leave God out of the conversation?"

"No!" he exploded, slamming the palm of his hand down on the desk.

Startling, she dropped her charcoal, bringing her hand to her chest as if to calm her racing heart. Both of their eyes followed the cylinder of coal rolling toward the edge of the table before it tipped over and shattered on the floor.

Leaning forward, his cutting eyes flicked back to her. "Me or your god, Aethelswith? Choose."

"You are asking me a question there is no answer to," she replied in a steady voice, her eyes showing compassion.

Flopping back in his chair, he lifted one of his unbound legs, shifting it to stretch out below the table.

"Maybe I will rethink my hatred of Freydis."

Sighing, she rolled her eyes. "Ivar, perhaps try your own hand with my charcoals. Your mind is restless and you are trying to provoke me."

"I am proficient at anything I try, Aethelswith. I would not want to create a masterpiece on my first attempt and undermine your already flimsy confidence."

Scrunching her brow, she studied him again. "How selfless of you. Always putting my feelings ahead of your own."

Pushing her seat back, she stood, grabbing a cloth from the table and wiped the sooty smudges from her fingers.

"You are going out?" He straightened, unable to mask his disappointment.

"Yes, you know that I am."

"Hmm," he mumbled under his breath, watching her, waiting, hoping she would ask if it was still alright. She asked nothing.

"Aethelswith?"

"Yes, my love."

"Do I not provide for you?"

Glancing over at him, she looked both unimpressed and suspicious.

"Do I not see that you have everything you need?" his voice shot up to a higher pitch as it did when he was being his most dramatic. "Are you unhappy with the level of comfort we enjoy as King and... whatever you are?" he flipped his hand dismissively.

"Ivar, you are looking for a fight. Stop."

With a smug expression, he continued on adding even more flair to the tone of his voice. "I am simply wondering why you feel the need to look for work. Hmm? Really Aethelswith, you want to be a wet nurse? A milkmaid to the young?"

"I beg your pardon?" She narrowed her eyes, confused as to where he was leading.

"Your breasts, Aethelswith. They are on display! You are advertising for work by wearing that dress, no? Am, I wrong?" His eyebrows shot so high on his face, she nearly laughed.

"For the love of God," she groaned, rolling her eyes and snorting at his absurdity. "You are ridiculous, Ivar. They are not."

"Look at that neckline, Aethelswith! How hypocritical. Do you not agree? Christian," he sneered.

"Is that supposed to be an insult? Calling me a Christian?" she smiled. "As far as looking for work, my customers would be disappointed when their babies go hungry from my lack of milk. Would you care to try?"

"Try what?"

"Breastfeeding." She glanced down at her cleavage.

"Aethelswith!" he objected as if offended. "You are not funny."

"Actually, I am."

"No, you are obviously oblivious to the number of times in a day I try NOT to imagine your tits in my face."

Walking around the table to her dressing area, she turned her back to him and began fixing her hair, pinning up the loose strands around her face.

"Ivar, my beloved, you are going to brood yourself to death. I am going to Gussr and Nanna's for supper with Brana and Loni. If you recall," she turned, looking at him with stern eyes, "I invited you and you declined so... I will see you later tonight."

With one last flick at her hair to cover the thin red line where her stitches had been removed, she turned and walked past him toward the door.

"Send my regards to your real family," he jabbed sliding even further down into his chair. His eyes roamed the room looking for anything to distract her with and keep her from leaving.

"Thank you, I will," she replied in an unruffled voice. "In the meantime, I will leave you alone to think on this delightful exchange as I know there is no better punishment for you than to sit alone with your thoughts. I will see you this evening."

"Kiss!" he shouted up into the air.

Turning, she walked back to him, stopping behind his chair and rose onto her tippy toes to kiss his waiting lips, on his bent back face. "I love you," she whispered before turning and heading again toward the door.

"Then wear a fucking shall!" he barked over his shoulder as she opened and closed the door behind.

Typical defiance, he thought, shaking his head as he straightened and turned in his chair to listen. Once he detected the faint jostle of blades and heavy footsteps of his men following her down the corridor, he relaxed and turned in his seat, slumping again and resuming his miserable mood.

—

Sitting in silence, he stared at the small, etched bird with a long beak, sipping nectar from the blossom of a flower on the parchment left on the table. Not his favourite but the likeness was fair. Sighing out loud, he pulled his legs upright from under the desk, frustration, horniness but mostly rejection still festering within. How can she be so unsympathetic, he asked himself, adjusting in his chair, getting ready to stand.

It was only mid-afternoon and he was bored. A thought struck that it had been months since he last practiced archery up at the grounds. Always, instead, grabbing his ax or a blade, some weapon that felt violent. There was nothing quite like the feel of his bow in the palm of his hand, lining up the tip of the arrow and slowly exhaling to quiet his thoughts. Distract him from the almost painful need to rub one out. Scoffing, he looked up to the ceiling and nearly laughed. He loved her so much, he could not even accomplish that without the help of her small hands.

The door opened and closed behind him and he tilted his head toward her, waiting. When she said nothing he broke the silence. "Come to your senses and see that I was right about your dress?"

"It is me, my King," a small voice replied.

Pushing on the table, he slid his chair around to see Freydis standing a few paces away. Much closer than he expected, not having heard her cross the room.

"The queen is not here."

"Yes, I know," she smiled faintly but her nerves still showed.

"Then, why are you here?" he asked, his tone aggressive.

"Her grace has gone to visit her friend and his wife in town."

Ivar's nostrils flared with annoyance. "I did not ask you where she had gone. I know the whereabouts of my woman. Why are you here?"

"I just heard.."

"Heard what?" he cut her off.

Widening her eyes, she continued, almost bashfully, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"What!" Ivar glared at her, squinting his eyes. This girl was either too stupid to sense the danger she was in or too ambitious to care.

"I have been the companion to men that I have served in the past. I was wondering..."

Holding up his hand, he motioned for her to stop speaking. Dropping his chin, he looked at her. Truly looked at her.

"Step closer," he commanded.

Following his instruction, she took two steps forward, her arms hanging at her sides.

"Take off your apron," he ordered.

Stifling a pinched smile, she untied the back of her apron and dipped her head forward sliding the loop off her neck, dropping it to the floor beside.

Staring, his eyes roamed her plain beige dress that showed little flesh as she subtly inhaled filling her lungs with air. Her breasts below the thick fabric pushed forward, looking more pronounced.

"Lift her chin, he quipped. "I want to see your skin."

Lifting her chin, she let her lips fall open. Her eyes never leaving his scrutinizing stare.

"Do you like what you see, my king?"

"Do you know what I see?"

She smiled, straightening, not answering his question, looking rather pleased.

"I see where your pulse is on your throat. I see where the large vein that carries your blood runs down your neck. The very place I will cut into with my ax IF YOU EVER COME INTO THIS CHAMBRE WITHOUT MY WIFE AGAIN," he boomed. "Do not think, for a second, that because you were the whore to some lord that I will take interest. I will NEVER take interest in anyone but my queen," he spat viciously. Leaning forward, he pointed his figure, dropping the volume of his voice to a threatening whisper, "and remember that she is much kinder and more trusting than me. She is also intelligent, so she will tire of you soon despite you speaking her tongue. And, when she does, you will get what you deserve. Now," he shook his finger at her again, "If you EVER," he shouted again, "enter our bedroom while not in her company, I will cut that insipid smile right off your face before I cut off your fucking head. GET OUT!"

Shaking, with tears in her large eyes, she began to shuffle backward, "Y'Yes, my king," she stuttered. "My apologies, my king," she cried, before turning and rushing out of the room, forgetting her apron on the floor.

Wincing from the pain in his legs and his now worse state of mind, he pushed himself to stand and grabbed his crutch. Making his way over to where she had stood, he bent down and snatched the garment off the floor. Walking to the hearth he threw the apron into the fire, never taking his eyes off the flames until there was nothing left.

.

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[fink-le-freak]

@mikey-putrid and I have this weird little desert town we created called Halflight and I want to share some of the character blurbs we wrote for the citizens

Notable Locations Within Halflight

-Halflight General Hospital

-Halflight Public Library

-Halflight Grammar School

-Halflight Town Hall

-The Flock and Feather

-Dragon's Keep Games and Comics

-Feline Good

-Pins N' Needles

-Ink Addicts

-Rose's Antiques

-Theodore's Oddities and Enchantments

-Kelly's Judo Club

-New to You

-Sunny Valley Nursing Home

Dr. Elsie O'Dalaigh, 54: The town's most beloved doctor. Her dry wit and eccentricities may put you off at first, but she's a very warm and wise woman and should you fall ill or find yourself hurt, you will be in good hands. She's originally from Dublin and has a fair number of stories to tell from her wild youth in Ireland. She has an affinity for all things macabre but especially spiders. You might find her dozing off on her porch swing or enjoying a cup of tea with a friend. You're always welcome to join her and her spouse for dinner.

Dr. Ivan Vasilevsky, 39: A sickly doctor who recently came to town from New York City because the air quality was better for his lungs. He's very brilliant but hardly friendly and very private. Because he's fairly well known, patients come from across the country seeking his care. The only person he seems friendly with is his nurse, Cameron.

Dr. Andre Jimenez, 34: An anthropomorphic parrot surgeon at Halflight General Hospital. He's a total social butterfly and loves to talk, talk, talk. He has trouble keeping secrets and falls into gossip frequently. He's well liked by all his colleagues, all but Dr. Vasilevsky that is.

Johnathan "Johnny" Ross, 20: A cowardly and sensitive young man with a passion for piercing. Though only an apprentice, he's very knowledgeable about body modification and keeps his own piercings immaculate. His motorcycle is also kept in pristine condition. He's also quite shy and is hardly ever seen without his girlfriend, Loretta.

Venus Estelle, 31: A laid back frilled lizard woman that claims to see the future through the smoke from her pipe. She's very transparent and sees no reason to keep secrets about herself. She has nothing to hide. She has a passion for music and plays drums in a local punk band, The Heart Electric.

Kaisei "Kai" Kelly, 56: A very stoic and serious judo instructor. His father was a boxer in Ireland and ever since childhood, Kai has been enthralled by martial arts. He fancies himself a train enthusiast and has a large collection of model trains in his home. His serious nature and brute strength can make him rather intimidating but his husband Rodney finds him cute. He visits his family in Kyoto every spring.

Rodney Kelly, 59: The gym teacher at Halflight Grammar School. Originally from Edinburgh and standing a diminutive 5'2", Rodney more than makes up for his height with personality. He's encouraging, kind, hyperactive and loud. Very, very loud. Fitness has always been an important part of his life, even at nearly 60. He does his best to make gym class a fun place for all instead of a source of bullying and stress for those who don't like team sports.

Jeremy Fox, 19: A brilliant college student neck deep in conspiracy theories. He's very paranoid and distrusting, often to his detriment. He wants to prove to his professors that aliens exist though none of them will give him the time of day. When he isn't studying or trying to prove his theories, he can be found practicing his bass guitar or stargazing. He and his older sister like to unwind by smoking pot and watching sci-fi movies. He's one of Johnny's closest friends.

Jodie Fox, 23: Jeremy's cheerful, supportive yet ditzy older sister and roomate. She let him move in with her after their parents kicked him out for being gay. She doesn't understand a lot of what he talks about but she's happy he's passionate about something. Her bedroom is filled with Care Bears merchandise and colorful collectibles. She's rarely seen without her sticker covered roller skates. The two siblings live in the apartment right above Johnny and Loretta.

Sunny McIntyre, 30: An anthro horse gym rat and fitness trainer. Her cheerfulness is contagious and her motherly nature makes her easy to talk to. Her thick southern drawl might make it hard to understand her though. She always looks on the bright side and doesn't have a pessimistic bone in her body. In addition to being a die hard Bon Jovi fan, she enjoys fishing, hiking and hunting. She also hosts a transgender support group at her house.

Junichiro Oguma, 46: An overworked and underpaid pharmacy technician. Though very good at what he does, he isn't really a people person. He's rather grumpy and has little patience for foolishness. He's infamously difficult to work with due to his perfectionism. He holds himself to ridiculously high standards and gets upset easily when he fails to meet his own expectations. His wit is drier than the desert itself.

Edward Dowler, 68: A retired illustrator living comfortably at the Sunny Valley Nursing Home. He takes his sketchbook everywhere and may sheepishly ask you if you would mind posing for a portrait. He's a gentle soul and a firm believer in the power of pacifism. He's very close to his adopted daughter and three grandsons.

Joanne Lawrence, 47: The owner of Joanne's Diner. She bought the place almost 20 years ago and turned it into a comfortable, 1950's style diner popular among bikers and travelers. She's very blunt and hates wasting time but if you treat her well, she'll treat you well. Threaten her livelihood however and you will pay dearly. Regulars might call her Mama because she takes such good care of them.

Dennis "Moose" Bowen, 52: The cook at Joanne's. He's a people pleaser and will do whatever a customer asks to make sure they enjoy their meal. Hearing someone say they didn't like his food is like a knife through the heart. He prefers to stay in the background and not call too much attention to himself. Joanne calls him Moose because of his large size.

Hilda "Mouse" Calhoun, 21: A demon waitress at Joanne's. Contrary to what you might believe, she's very down to earth and sweet. She's not here for souls or bringing you to damnation, she just wants to serve pancakes and save money for beauty school. Her petite build makes her the Mouse to Dennis's Moose.

Wally Mack, unknown but born before 1956, mentally and physically around 21-24: A living humanoid shadow that can usually be found on a wall at Joanne's. He's chatty and perky and loves to dance. He's able to interact with others through their shadows. If Wally was to touch your shadow's shoulder, you would feel it. He likes to play harmless pranks on Dennis.

Tiffany "Tiff" Cain, 25: An anthropomorphic eagle bartender at her father's restaurant, The Flock and Feather. She also volunteers to work with children with special needs on weekends. She's very patient and a daredevil at heart. Her straightforward, casual attitude makes guests comfortable and keeps them coming back. She may be seen skateboarding around town.

Hisao Nakajima-Stewart, 33: The recently appointed head librarian at Halflight Public Library. He's rather sarcastic and moody but becoming a father has softened him up. He's very passionate about high fantasy and hosts Dungeons and Dragons sessions at his house every week. He spoils his chihuahua, Kotori, rotten with all kinds of pretty dresses and toys. He loves his husband, daughter and newborn son dearly.

Delwyn Morgane, 29: An employee at Dragon's Keep Games and Comics. When his shift ends, he dons a full suit of armor and obsessively hunts down dragons, or at least tries to. He's yet to actually kill a dragon. He's quite handsome but has a few screws loose. He plays Dungeons and Dragons with Hisao and friends every Thursday night.

Klaus Brunsvold, 70: A quiet and hardworking man originally from Norway. English is not his first language but he's slowly improving thanks to his coworkers. Though he might look imposing, his warm smile puts people at ease right away. He works at the cat cafe, Feline Good, as a barista and gleefully serves customers fattigman and slices of ostekake. Goria says he has "big grandpa energy".

Jonas Ostergard, 61: A blunt, reclusive man that's easily recognized by his towering height and voracious appetite. Standing 8'2" in comparison to his wife's tiny 5', he's one of many oddities in this town. He's absolutely enthralled by zombies and robots and fills notebooks with detailed diagrams regarding them. He's often seen at the Flock and Feather, chatting up a storm with his friend Tiff. He has autism, ADHD and intellectual disabilities.

Jamie De Luna, 18: A scrawny young man enamored with anime and martial arts. He's a bit hotheaded and immature but nonetheless determined to become an MMA fighter. His younger sister Tala is his biggest fan and supports her nerdy big brother all the way. He loves cheesy kung fu movies and takes them very seriously. He thinks very highly of his judo teacher Kai and seems to think of him as a father figure.

Goria Stout, 15: A high school student and part of Hisao's Dungeons and Dragons group. She's partially an ogre, 25% to be exact, and admires her ogre grandfather greatly. However, at the same time, part of her has been made to feel ashamed of her pointed ears and blue skin. She's rather lazy and self centered, but occasionally shows a more warm side. She wants to study magic and become a feared sorceress but just doesn't have the natural ability to do so. She frequents the comic shop and is the only one that believes in Delwyn's quest to slay a dragon.

Wesley Eldridge, 19: The bratty and materialistic son of billionaires left to play in mommy and daddy's mansion. His parents are constantly traveling the world, so he spends his days lazing about and relishing his family's wealth. He's notoriously snobbish and will have no part in anything, or anyone, he deems beneath him. He's had a fondness for unicorns since he was a child and even owns a purebred Irish unicorn named Divinity Diamond. He's very protective of her and has no qualms about sending his guards after you if you dare harm her.

Renwick Ozul, 25: E-boy and aspiring model with a sour disposition. He's distrusting of others and keeps people at a distance, except for his close friend Missy. Despite his cold and calculating online persona, he's quite insecure and struggles with his body image. He can be rather rude and nasty but has his moments of vulnerability and kindness.

Chelsea Montgomery, 23: A quiet young woman who keeps to herself. Some people say she fades into the background. She's very creative and resourceful, cleverly finding solutions to most problems she faces. Her interests include anime, cosplay, drawing and video games. She's great with kids and would like to be an art teacher one day.

Dallas Silvers, 27: A monster hunter and unofficial sheriff of Halflight. She's bold and quick witted, outsmarting any beast that threatens the town and quickly subduing it or killing it. Her talent with a rifle is nigh unmatched in town. She's the second oldest of 11 children and adores her older brother, the bounty hunter Smokey Silvers. She finds it difficult to be open about her feelings but loves her family dearly.

(Characters below belong to my friend @mikey-putrid, follow him he's cool)

Brody Erickson-O'Dalaigh, 47: The town's resident maternal figure and unofficial monster hunter (or befriender, really). Their spunky, adventurous attitude often gets them into shenanigans, but they always manage to pull themself out. They are kind and loving towards everyone. No matter who or what you are, you are always invited to Brody's for a nice meal.

Landon Borowick, 26: Brody's, often unwilling, sidekick and a security guard at the local mall. He's a cowardly young man who would rather stay home and get stoned, but thinks of Brody as his hero and therefore ends up getting dragged along on their adventures. Despite his fearful nature, Landon is a physically intimidating person who will do anything to help a friend.

Darcy Cooper, 16: A rough and tumble student at Halflight Grammar School. Darcy moved to Halflight with her mother to open up a bakery, which doubles as their home, and she often makes deliveries on her bike. Her warm and friendly personality helps her to make friends easily. Usually covered in bandages, Darcy loves practicing stunts on her skateboard, as well as watching anime and playing video games.

Loretta Sims, 20: Johnny's girlfriend, aspiring cryptozoologist and collecter of cool antiques. Loretta is shy and timid, preferring to blend into the background and not draw attention to herself. She loves spending time in the forest and working on her ever growing scrapbook. She's never far from her beloved boyfriend.

Cameron Payette, 28: A nurse at Halflight General Hospital and Dr. Vasilevsky's live in assistant. Having grown up with 15 disabled and ill siblings, Cameron has developed a love of helping people, keeping them healthy and cheering them up with a silly song on their trusty ukelele. During their off time, they enjoy video games and sci-fi movies.

[writingsofmyimagination]

Conjecture |4|

Yoongi x Reader

Idol Reader Au, Enemies to Lovers AU

Summary: Your management refused to renew your contract unless you collaborated, so you ending up working with Min Yoongi. A guy you’d disliked from before both of your debuts. There is more to their past than meets the eye.

Words:2713

Links to other parts in my masterlist

if you want to be tagged let me know :)

@msunnsstuff @rosey-roseu @eyelessmin

Warnings: Swearing Suggested smut. (Smut in next chapter YAY :)

(Mention’s on Monsta X’s Wonho)

Reblog, Like, Comment :)

//Yoongi had to consciously stop his mouth falling open when you came onto the set. He had to retain the same control over his gaze stopping them from constantly soaking up the view. When he was directed to grip at your hip, his heart forgot to function for a few beats. He wasn’t surprised by your irritated reaction given how you’d been acting and made himself empathise with you even though his less than innocent thoughts were permeating through.//

 You jolted awake

“Fuck” was all you heard muffled through your door accompanied by the sound of glass shattering. You rushed out of bed to the source of the noise. A section of the floor was blurred with a pool of orange juice with glass shards floating as debris. What was more alarming was the droplets of red falling and causing a red orange ripple throughout the pool. Yoongi was hissing through pursed lips and gripping his left hand with his right nursing it with a tea towel.

“What happened? Sit down” you ordered. He looked at you through his fringe which overshadowed his eyes.

“I just turned with the glass in my hand which wasn’t high enough and just smashed into the worktop. I’m fine, sorry I woke you”

“You’re obviously not, sit the fuck down and let me have a look” Your tone drew his eyes wide and he submitted, taking big steps to avoid any more glass took a drooped himself on the sofa.

“Please tell me you have something that resembles a first aid box or something” you pleaded.

“Under the bathroom sink”. You washed your hands and brought the box as well as some tweezers and sat on the coffee table facing him.

“Give me your hand” he did as he was told and gave you his hand.

“I don’t know how I feel about you bossing me around” Yoongi quipped a pained smile directed your way. This is nothing you thought.

“No? Why’s that?” You slowly pulled away the towel, there were several small cuts and a couple of large but thankfully not too deep gashes. You removed all his bracelets quickly erasing any blood which had invaded them.

“Because I normally hate being told what to do” he exhaled forcefully as you picked a couple of glass fragments from his hand.

“And what? With me you like it? Brace yourself” You wiped his palm over with a disinfectant wipe.

“Shit!” his other hand retracted into a fist, his knuckles washing over with white. “That stings, and yeah something like that” he chuckled with a light heartedness you’d not seen before, a light heartedness that was acting as a decoy to disguise the confession of something less innocent and playful than the reality of what he meant. You found the confession amusing yet curious but you hid any reaction, you cheeks on the other hand let you down and tinted a shallow shade of red. A quick smirk peeked out on his lips noticing this before his pained expression returned.

“What was you rushing around for anyway?” you asked completely steering away from any more teasing remarks.

“I was trying to make you breakfast before you woke up” You paused wrapping the bandage around his hand and stared at it for a moment, why was this guy so god damn sweet!

“And why was you doing that?”

“I could see you were pissed yesterday, and just thought it might make you feel better” you resumed your final wrap around with the bandage and pinned it.

“And I know you don’t particularly like me for some reason and I’d like to try and change that” he added as sincere as you’ve ever heard him but it was also laced with sadness that loaded you with slight guilt. You heart sank down feebly to the bottom of your stomach, you felt kind of bad that he’d picked up on it but then you acknowledged how much of a bitch you’d actually been to him at times. You wasn’t by any means going to enter into a discussion about the details but you told yourself from now on you’ll try and be more amenable. The guy you started working with a few days ago had been nothing but professional, kind and thoughtful.

“There, all done” you stood and gathered the rubbish and ignored his previous comment and went to go and make a start on the kitchen.

“I’m more than capable of cleaning up my own mess and thank you for this” he stood after you and waved his injured limb.

“Consider it my apology for being difficult and my thanks for making me breakfast. It has made me feel a bit better” You smile and words were resolute; he went to protest further

“Don’t make me boss you around” you teased. He raised his hands up in surrender and waited while cleaned the chaos and finished serving up the omelettes he’d prepared. They were amazing. He wasn’t sure on the toppings you’d want so he’d gathered a few bowls of a few different options.

“What’s the plan for today?” you enquired

“Well we’ve more or less smashed out the lyrics so let’s get those finished and polished off and then we can get started on the music, I’ve took some ideas from your singing the other day and made some demo’s we can trial. I reckon we can be in the studio by the end of the week  and make a start on recording” he ended brightly

“Sounds good, I’d like to have some solo studio time if that’s okay while I just work out the sections I’ll be rapping and singing. If you trust me in your set up that is”

“I’m sure I can cope. What time you want the guys to come pick you up later?”

“Probably about 20:45 if that’s okay? My hairdresser will be here around half seven. You should really come it will be good exposure for the single if we go together” You omitted the part that you’d actually just like to spend some more casual time with him, you wasn’t keen on accepting it yourself let alone speaking it aloud.

“I’m sure that will be fine, and nope, nothing will change my mind I’m staying in my cave”

“Fine suit yourself” you carried the dishes cleared them and loaded up the dishwasher, the mechanical hum merged into the background.

“Will Wonho be there?” he asked hoping he wasn’t coming across too curious.

“Yeah, but my manager bit my ear off yesterday about the whole dispatch thing. I’m not to go near him all evening” you sulked. There was a slight brightening of Yoongi’s demeanour, he felt slightly guilty for being pleased by this revelation.

“But they’ll be no press inside surely?”

“There’s always a couple who will have been given exclusive access, so means best behaviour for me”

“Is that even a thing with you?” he bounced back at you quickly.

“Very funny, I’m going to grab a quick shower and I’ll meet you in the studio”

A better attitude even if it was a slightly forced one at times made the days session fly by, you’d both completely finished and agreed with the lyrics and were soaring through the music. You ended up being so engrained into your work you were shocked when the bell rang at half seven.

“Oh shit, please can you let her in and tell her I’ll be like 15 minutes, I need to get dressed properly” you were staring into a face clearly amused by your panic and stared right back at you void of motion to wind you up.

“Yoongi!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll go”

You rushed to your room, launched your clothes to scatter behind you and unzipped the dress bag hung over the wardrobe door. The Alexander McQueen dress staring back at you made you happy you’d changed your mind last minute. It was a black mini dress with a deep V-neck line, the v-line was filled with tonal floral lace inserts. The same style of lace also covered the arms leaving scalloped edges at your hands. The neck line was too deep to have a normal bra so you’d have to rely on the lift tape to keep you in place and secure for the night. The dress was on the thinner side but the material was thick on quality, it sat nicely on your figure and gave you a smooth silhouette. You secured the thigh choker your assistant had dropped off tightly around your thigh. It was a simple black leather strap with rounded studs on it and connected to a metal heart. You slung your behind on your unmade bed and slipped on your long black ankle boots, also Alexander McQueen. The foot section was adorned with hammered silver studs, the leather that crept up your calf has a strip of nappa leather buttons going down the outside. The silver needle heel was sturdier than you thought it would be as you cat walked yourself up and down in front of the full length body mirror. Grateful you checked, your bruises needed a quick touch up of concealer.

Now just the hair and makeup left

Yoongi nearly floored you coming out of his room in an unnecessary rush.

“Sorry…” the other words got lost as his eyes scanned you intently

“Seeing as you’re there would you mind?” you turned and scooped your hair up exposing most of your upper back. He gripped the zip which sat at the small of your back and made every effort to pull it outwards slightly as too avoid contact as he pulled the zip up.

“Thanks, sure you still don’t want to come with a date looking like this?” you twirled in a joyous motion, enjoying the awkwardness of watching his eyes not know where to settle.

“With you looking as magnificent as that I’d be near enough invisible, I’ll leave Wonho to deal with all the admirers”

Why did he even bring him up? Was he implying he wouldn’t be able to deal with other people looking at me in a certain way?

“Your loss, and he’ll just have to look and not touch with all the others tonight” you affirmed seemingly pleased you’ll be teasing him.

“I don’t envy him this evening” The penny dropped Sadie was still waiting patiently in the living room and you hastily made your way to the woman capable of performing miracles.

“Sadie I’m so sorry, I was too absorbed in this new record” You grabbed a bar stool and placed it in front on the mirror on the wall next to the window. Her stack of boxes piled up on the coffee table.

“Don’t sweat it girl, now sit down and let’s finish this look off”

The boys arrived early to get introductions out of the way and to have a few pre drinks, Yoongi had resigned himself to being a solemn bartender. They repeated trying to convince him to make an appearance but he was as stubborn as he was talented.

“Cars here guys” RM announced. J-Hope bounced up, his face already a little flushed from alcohol.

The party was an exclusive event, anyone who was anyone in the industry gets invited, it’s more of a showcase with new or up and coming artists performing throughout the evening and general atmosphere to network. The car stopped outside the venue and the chauffer opened the door and the guys climbed out to a blinding screen of flashes and excited demanding noises. RM offered his hand and assisted you out of the car. Only a couple of media networks were allowed inside to take official photos and interviews; this only made the frenzy of media into the venue more ravenous. You stood and posed for the camera’s when directed, when you were freed you spent the remainder of the carpet time by the fans, taking selfies, signing autographs and generally giving them as much of your time as you could before you were ushered inside.

The buzz of the room when you entered was electric, crowds of people fluttering around reconnecting and mingling. Everyone had a drink in their hand and looked stunning, J-Hope and RM managed to find you amongst the chaos and showed you to your reserved booth for the evening at the side of the room. At the end of the room was a small elevated stage with equipment stacked neatly at the side, including some brilliant speakers. The room was decorated with mostly a royal red with silver vines twisting around features of the room; it was similar to the décor you’d expect at a theatre.

“You can order your drinks on this, we don’t even have to get up and go to the bar” J-Hope beamed as he slid you a small phone like device and you immediately went to the gin section and ordered a few pink gin cocktails. You’d sweetly smile when your eyes caught someone you were familiar with; your eyes fritted around for people you actually wanted to speak to. You and Wonho finally spotted each other pulling your lips into a grin, moments later your phone buzzed.

- You expect me to stay away from you all night looking like that?-[20:59]

You knew instantly it was going to be a long frustrating night

- well we’re just both going to have to do as we’re told, doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, you know I like to tease – [21:02]

You watched his expression diffuse into manic anticipation as he read your reply. When your drinks arrived you drifted from the boys and mingled with your friends, who imposed more than a few shots on you. Your manager managed to come out from backstage preparing a newbie to your label for his performance and casually checked in on your progress, you’d always loved his relaxed approach and how he just mostly left you to work, he didn’t even have to learn the hard way.

You slumped yourself back into the booth out of breath from owing the dancefloor, downing the last of one of your drinks including the ice cubes.

-That dress belongs on my bedroom floor, with me bound and gagged under you and my chest all marked up because I misbehaved-[22:39]

RM was looking at you amused with your intoxication or your wry smile as you read your message.

You almost choked on your drink, seemingly forgetting how to swallow as your body was too preoccupied controlling its arousal levels. He knew how to get you. You made a conscious effort to divert from being drawn in to Wonho’s gaze which you knew would be more than you could tolerate without dragging him somewhere private.

“What?” you questioned with a challenge.

“Nothing, nothing” he lied unapologetically. J-Hope returned reuniting the three of you at the table.

“Performances start in fifteen minutes” he announced. You were sat perfectly content until your eyes fell on the reason you’re mainstream career struggled to take off and the reason you’d vowed to never work with a male artists again. When his gaze melded with yours the bastard winked. Your eyes widened and mouth dropped slightly open with disgust. Anger swelled in your chest, raising your heart rate, adrenaline flooding your system preparing your for battle. You jumped up and made a b-line straight for him with everyone else in the room becoming a blur into the background.

“Hey, watch it!” you complained as you’d crashed into a figure. He grabbed your wrist and refused to move out of your line of fire.

“Let’s go get some air before you ruin your career” a voice spoke sternly yet quiet enough to keep the demand just between the two of you. You looked up

“Yoongi… What the fuck, I’m not…”

“You’re telling me you’re not on your way over there to attack that asshole?”

“He deserves it” you spat

“I’m not disputing that, outside now and cool down” he applied more pressure to your wrist, the way he was glaring at you, you knew he wasn’t backing down on his. Your rage hit a wall and sat simmering on hold. You rolled your eyes as he essentially escorted you out of the building.

[wsmith215]

Policing Can Take a Lesson from Health Care

The grief is indescribable. George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and other unarmed Black Americans dying at the hands of police is unacceptable. It is happening repeatedly, and we are fed up.

I will be forever haunted by the images of a police officer’s knee being used, not in protest, but to asphyxiate a fellow American. While I had to watch parts of it on mute to keep from hearing the calls of Mr. Floyd asking for water, begging for his deceased mother and pleading for his life over and over again, I keep thinking of the details of how he died—how his carotid arteries were compressed, leaving it impossible for his brain to get oxygen; how the vagal, or relaxation, centers in his neck were overstimulated by the pressure, likely slowing or stopping his heart; how his trachea, as rigid and firm as it is, may have also been collapsing from all the external pressure; and how pinning him down kept him from expanding his chest cavity to take in enough air and compensate for his already oxygen-deprived organs.

For days, I avoided watching the entire video, but reminded myself that this was not an experience Floyd asked for or deserved. As much as I wanted to protect my mental health, it paled in comparison to the horror of being killed slowly and unjustly. After watching the video, and seeing that the officers knew that they were being videotaped, I realized that what the public sees as solely an accountability tool may in fact be a stage for some police officers to amplify and assert to the world who is in charge

What we attempt to sweep under the rug as isolated instances, bad apples that should not spoil the bunch, is increasingly becoming a pattern. The bunch is unmistakably being spoiled, and the American public is watching. We are watching for the true acknowledgement of ills in policing by the police themselves, for the recognition that all parties involved, including those setting the stage for murder, those ignoring or mocking the cries of screaming bystanders and those using a person’s past or current misfortune as justification for murder, are all complicit.  

It is incredibly tough to be yelled at, assaulted and chastised while being a public servant. I am an emergency medicine physician, and I have had bodily fluids thrown at me, been assaulted by patients and been accused of withholding resources and care. I recognize the stark differences between the natural hazards I am responsible for trying to fix and the human-to-human hazard that police respond to. My job does not require me to interface with a potentially armed public. Nonetheless, the decisions we make every day, in either circumstance, can result in life or death. Even on my worst day, I could only hope that those who have also made the pledge to “Do No Harm” would not let me get away with hurting anyone. To be responsible for a life is to be held accountable for life. To be a teammate to another public servant means encouraging the best behavior possible.

So, if our police force says these murderers among them are bad actors, how do we better screen for them before they are hired? How do we remove and punish them for egregious acts against weaponless Americans? How do we best account for and address implicit and explicit bias and Chauvin-ism in policing?

Health care may be able to provide a model for improvement. Health care in America is far from perfect and needs its own serious introspection. To be a physician or nurse in the U.S. and not recognize that mistrust, bias and inefficiency in medicine is real would be willful ignorance. Nevertheless, our health care system recognizes that even the best and brightest trained and most well-intentioned among us are imperfect people functioning in an imperfect system. Our job requires a constant mental exercise of risk versus benefit, checking bias, examining power dynamics and staying current on the best practices for patients.

In risk management, analysis and prevention, an accident causation model called the Swiss cheese model, proposed by James Reason, author of Human Error, is used to help avoid unacceptable events in an organization. It is a model commonly used in health care as well as in aviation and engineering. Each component of an organization is considered a slice of cheese. If there are any deficiencies in the slices of your organization, you will have a hole in that slice, hence Swiss cheese.

If a hole, or an area of failed or absent defenses in several slices of an agency line up, it can create a continuous hole, thereby resulting in an adverse outcome. Factors that contribute to failure of a system or a bad outcome result from problems in organizational structure, supervision, preconditions and unsafe individual acts. For example, a hospital purchases an electronic health record that does not record allergies upon patient arrival. The supervising physician unknowingly orders a medication that a patient is allergic to. The pharmacist is not prompted to check for allergies prior to filling and delivering the medication. The nurse then administers the medication to which the patient is severely allergic; the patient is then unable to breath and dies. 

The layers of cheese are aligning quite strikingly in American policing.

While we work to address the systemic issues of inequality and racism, as well as campaign finance reform, voter turnout and suppression—bearing in mind how such electoral conditions contribute to the employment of local officials such as district attorneys, prosecutors, sheriffs and medical examiners—I want to offer 10 solutions to support effective and unbiased maintenance of public safety in our communities.

1. Third party external review of deaths under police custody. There should be an external, nonpartisan body that reviews every death under police custody for police departments nationwide. This would allow for an impartial assessment of pattern and practice in the review of deaths in custody and would be made of a panel of law enforcement leadership, legal officials and civilian participants. Cases that may present potential conflict of interest would be escalated to the state governor or federal Department of Justice. An unbiased, third-party medical examiner should also be selected to conduct autopsies in these cases as local medical examiners are often appointed officials with political relationships that could pose conflicts of interest.  

2. Anonymous reporting with no retribution. Police should be encouraged to securely report activities of misconduct without the concern of punishment from police stations or colleagues. To facilitate this safely, I recommend reporting through an anonymous external reporting system or hotline.

3. Internal reviews for quality and safety. All police departments should be required to engage in routine quality audits of their activities for continued improvement of policing practices. Quality audits would include reports from the anonymous reporting system, as well as frequent review and audit of police reports, dash and body camera footage, radio exchanges with both peer and community review. This would also encourage preferential use of alternative nonlethal agents when a citizen is posing a possible nonlethal threat to the officers. A system for remediation, probation and termination should be enforced for officers with repeated offenses and not meeting requirements of their corrective action plan. Special attention will also be paid to precincts with disproportionate disciplinary action of officers based on their race or gender.

4. Evaluation for racism and socioeconomic bias in the recruitment and hiring process. Screening through entry questionnaires, interviews and scenario-based evaluation with mental health professionals and character assessments via diverse job references should be conducted with all entering police officers. Longitudinal training in implicit bias and systemic inequality would also be required.

5. Routine psychological evaluation and mental health care for all police officers. Repeated trauma of frontline professionals, particularly those at risk of physical harm and death, should be acknowledged. Those at higher risk of post-traumatic stress disorder, including officers with backgrounds in wartime conflict and high-risk adverse childhood experiences such as significant bullying, violence, physical or sexual abuse, should be identified and supported. Partnerships with mental health professionals, consistent participation in activities promoting mental health and wellness, and routine sabbatical opportunities and respite from policing activities may also prove useful.

6. Training, in-service and continued policing education. In addition to routine training and in-service activities, police officers should be required to complete a set amount of continuing education units (CEUs) annually or at minimum every two years. This would include conflict resolution and basic first aid as well as cultural competency training involving members of the community that addresses the unique needs of the communities they serve.

7. Unarmed public safety teams. These teams can function as enhancements of or alternatives to armed police officers particularly for patrolling and nonviolent 911 calls. This public safety option would include locally recruited public safety workers trained in de-escalation and mental health emergencies.

8. Enhancing education and entry requirements. Journalist Sara Llana, in an article titled “Why Police Don’t Pull Guns in Many Countries,” describes a police training process in Germany wherein “rigorous education standards help to widen an officer’s vision when stress narrows it.” Currently, in the U.S., police training lasts on average 19 weeks. This may or may not include a field experience and probation period. In addition to academy training, local governments would require, at minimum, bachelor’s level liberal arts education focused on courses such as ethics, communication, history, psychology, domestic and international relations, foreign language and ethnic studies.

9. Performance review–based compensation. Compensation of officers would be increased based on fulfillment of the above requirements with incentives for strong peer, community and performance reviews, and avoidance of adverse events.  

10. External review for accreditation. By fulfilling the above requirements, a police department would be accredited by a third party for continued operation, potential increases in budget or fines if requirements are not fulfilled.  

When an apple is rotten and a slice of cheese riddled with holes, a typically delectable combination, is now difficult to eat. I hope these points can contribute to the dialogue and provide potential action items for change. Our nation should never have to witness an unnecessary, gruesome death at the hands of police. As a fellow public servant, we are the people that the public calls upon in times of distress, fear and concern. We are layers of protection and should function as such. We should prioritize trust and comfort over fear and terror and call out our colleagues who prioritize the latter.

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