#have spent the past month of weekends in different medical facilities

[allthegothihopgirls]

the world if my different medical specialists knew how to coherently communicate with each other

[peachy-panic]

Only Temporary: Sebastian Tate

Hello. I was completely blown away by the positive response I got on the first piece of Jaime’s story (title under construction). Thank you to everyone who had a kind word to say about it! You made me really happy I made the mildly frightening choice to post.

In the interest of acclimating to the no-rules, freedom-to-post-out-of-order structure of this community, I wanted to introduce a new piece of the puzzle this time, with a new character that will come into play later.

Also, this piece goes into a little bit of the details, but for frame of reference on the BBU-adjacent thing: this story takes place in a not-so-distant future of the BBU, where WRU has undergone some changes. I look forward to exploring this world building more as I go.

Anyway, I’m rambling again. Thanks for reading. Here it is:

WARNINGS: General BBU warnings, talk of institutionalized slavery, classism, and general terribleness of large corporations. Referenced past homophobia and rough parental relationships, briefly implied/referenced non-con.

When Sebastian reflects on the day he graduated from med school, a sort of emptiness is the memory that first bobs to the surface. Among the cheers and camera flashes in the crowd, white coats and proud smiles, what Sebastian recalls most vividly from that day is looking out into the sea of parents and families and people there to support their loved ones on one of the biggest days of their lives, and not seeing a single person that had come for him.

What should have been one of the happiest moments of his life had been quickly overshadowed by the sinking feeling that none of it mattered as much as it would have if he had someone to share it with. Like there was something so fundamentally wrong with his life, that even something as objectively good and right and decent as becoming a doctor could be dulled over into a feeling of nothingness.

Perhaps, he thinks in hindsight, that moment had been foreshadowing for the following months ahead of him.

Watching rejection after rejection pour in from his top residency programs had felt like nothing short of his own personalized nightmare. He had spent several nights in a row on the phone with Alex, his undergrad roommate and only friend, clamoring back from the edge of many a panic attack, spiraling into all-out existential dread about the future and the past and what all of it meant for him if he couldn’t land an internship, let alone a real job out of school. To his credit, Alex never gave up hope in his friend. Or at least, he did a decent job hiding it if he did. Which was probably exactly what Sebastian needed to get through that particularly dark time in his life, and a good reminder of what a solid friend he had. Even if it was a party of two.

Unfortunately, Sebastian did not have the same faith in himself.

He was able to keep up some facade of optimism as his top five were picked off one by one. Telling himself, despite his devastation, that they were a pretty far reach, anyway. Even with good academic standing, it was famously no walk in the park to land yourself at John Hopkins or Mayo as a first-year. He even maintained a brave face as his first few safety programs reached capacity and moved forward without his name on the roster.

It wasn’t until he received his final rejection letter from some internal medicine place in Bumfuck, Idaho that he felt himself slip into dangerous territory. Sebastian knew himself well enough to know his own depressive patterns by then, and he knew it was only exponential decay from there.

Rock bottom came, as it did, in the wee hours of the night, after a full bottle of wine. Alone in his small apartment, surrounded by half-packed boxes with no destination, Sebastian found himself sprawled out on the floor with his laptop hot against his thighs. He couldn’t have explained why he opted for a privacy browser, but something about it allowed him to justify the words that he typed into the search bar.

It was a new low, and one he had sworn to himself he would never stoop to. Yet there he was.

He gave himself a moment to reconsider, to back out of what was undoubtedly a morally-gray train wreck waiting to happen as his thumb hovered over the enter key. And then the alcohol decided to override his moral compass.

Facility Care is the open secret of the medical profession. It comes with its fair share of stigma, and rightfully so, but it is notoriously easy to break into and pays a decent wage.

There are two types of people who end up stooping to that kind of employment. More often than not, it consists of doctors and nurses who had their licenses revoked or suspended somewhere along the line and needed a way back in. As far as Sebastian understood, they aren’t terribly ridgid about the particulars of each circumstance. After all, in the eyes of the law, the patients they would be treating are a price tag away from being entirely expendable.

The other percentage of Facility Care workers, and the reason Sebastian found himself staring at his too-bright computer screen with a sinking feeling of dread that night, are young medical graduates who find themselves in a tough spot. It isn’t difficult to spell out the logic behind that one when you open the WRU CAREERS tab on the home page and see the bright white words printed across the top of the screen:

LOAN FORGIVENESS.

It is shamelessly predatory and aggressively capitalistic, but Sebastian supposes that particular exploitation is pretty far down on the list of transgressions for an institution of legalized slavery. A few broke and hopeless medical students were hardly going to keep the Powers That Be up at night when they were able to rest easy under the weight of hundreds of thousands of stolen lives.

The whole thing is part of the massive PR overhaul the company did a few years back. In a world that was slowly inching toward civil activism and with the accessibility of platforms like social media to hold them accountable, WRU had to adapt to survive. Adaptation, in this case, took the form of changing the barest of minimums in order to keep themselves above board — to the public eye, anyway. Anyone who dares to take a closer look at the policy changes can see that it’s bullshit.

Changing ownership conditions to a rent-by-contract basis isn’t the humanitarian move they try to paint it as. In the end, it probably just equals out to more money in the company’s pocket when they can get more return on their “investments,” and a larger chance of exploitation for the people being moved around.

Getting rid of the Romantic division is an entirely meaningless gesture when they are still loaning out human beings with no legal rights and the inability to say “no.”

And offering an open job market with good wages and healthcare options to lower class individuals is a pretty convenient way to mute the backlash.

Essentially, you can tie a system of slavery and abuse up in a bow and make it pretty on the outside, but at the end of the day, it’s still fucking slavery.

Not that he has any room to criticize now. Now that he’s one of them.

In the end, Seb tries to justify his decision a few different ways. He is, after all, more or less a young man alone in the world. The odds are stacked against him and have been for a while. With only his own two legs to stand on, the only force stronger than his internal ambition is his instinct for survival, and he’s been running on those fumes for longer than he can count.

He had lasted less than two months under his parents’ roof after he came out of the closet at eighteen. It wasn’t exactly a surprise for anyone involved; Sebastian’s parents had known about (and subsequently bottled) his… urges… since he was in high school. Probably before that, if he is being honest with himself. And Sebastian, for his part, had spent the better part of his teenage years mentally preparing for the inevitable. He can recall long, late nights he had spent crying into his pillow and the perfectly-scripted ‘coming out’ speeches he recited to his mirror when he was one-hundred percent sure his parents were asleep.

Of course, none of the preparation had been anywhere near adequate when he actually found himself wilting beneath the heat of his father’s glare, the weight of his mother’s grief.

But. He had recovered. That is the point he tries to remember when the memories sting fresh beneath his skin, even all these years later. He has more-than proven himself to be a survivor. He has worked harder than anyone he knows for every scholarship, every grant, every dollar to put himself through school. Sacrificed nights out and real relationships for night shifts at shitty diners and long weekends cramming for exams. It hadn’t been easy, but he considers it the price he had to pay for his independence. For freedom, to live the life as the person he is meant to be, despite his unfortunate odds. He spent years telling himself it would be worth it. That one day, his hard work would pay off.

He can’t stop now.

Sebastian doesn’t have the luxury of taking time off to reroute when his navigation has gone amiss. He is walking the precarious line of rapidly accruing interest and student loans and a dwindling savings account, and there is no safety net below him.

Beggars can’t be choosers, and as it turns out, beggars sometimes have to compromise their moral integrity in order to survive.

It’s only temporary.

That is the mantra that gets him through the (half-drunken) application process and the (disturbingly lax) interview process. It is a job. One job. In the medical field, though the details are up for debate, and it is real-life money for rent and food and a savings that will hopefully be sizable enough to get him where he really wanted to be. Which is… really, anywhere else.

He can do ‘temporary.’ And perhaps, some misguided part of him thinks he can do some genuine good from the inside, too. ‘Be the change you want to see’ and all that.

It is a far jump from the floor of his apartment, sloshed and exhausted and desperate, to the cold, sharp reality of walking into his place of employment on his first day of work. Ironically, it feels a lot like an echo of the emptiness from his graduation day.

‘Sterile’ doesn’t quite cover it. ‘Sterile’ is the expectation of any well-respected medical establishment, but the inside of the facility walls has been wiped clean of far more than bacteria and germs. It is completely devoid of humanity. The long corridors that connect the medical wing to the general ward are windowless and dimly lit by flickering fluorescent panels that had make his head pound for the entirety of his first week.

He is given an office, though it is a term he, himself, might use loosely, as it is more akin to what was probably a storage closet before the old prison had been converted into the state’s training headquarters. It leaves him just enough space for a small desk and two chairs. On his first day, he asks if it is okay to bring in some personal items to spruce the place up. The older, balding doctor who had been assigned to show him around merely shrugs, and Sebastian decides to take that as a yes.

The small, pink-framed photo of a six-year-old Sebastian Tate in his grandfather’s white coat and an old-school stethoscope around his neck is hardly enough to make the place cozy from the corner of his desk, but it’s a good enough reminder of why he has to make this work.

‘It’s only temporary.’

‘Be the change you want to see.’

He will do his best.

[thedreadvampy]

talking to my mum last night and getting fucked up about the degree of trauma my grandparents' generation faced and how. unwilling and ill-equipped the care system is for the obvious fact that there's a huge incidence of PTSD and complex lifelong mental health issues in those generations

grannie was 17 when she became a nurse and she was working immediately in London at the height of the Blitz. her first day she saw blown apart children and had to comfort their parents. she was almost hit by a rocket cycling home.

grandpa spent the whole war in labour camps before being trapped behind the Iron Curtain in the ruins of Dresden, almost dead from starvation from the camp, for another 3 years before making it back to Blackpool to find out his parents had died in his absence.

granny got radiation sickness at 13 from being put under an X-ray with no protection and forgotten about for hours; she lost all her hair and developed chronic pain and health problems. after years of severe physical, emotional and sexual abuse from her family and the men around her, she got engaged to an American pilot who was shot down and killed in the last month of the war. her former boyfriend came back a dissociative shell of his pre-war self and she ended up trying to raise three small children on her own, with her family at the other end of the country and her husband often having violent flashbacks and outbursts of rage. she was suicidal and had violent psychotic breaks and got institutionalised and medicated on and off her entire adult life.

like. it isn't just the war. people born in the early-mid 20th century, especially women, have been subject to so much sexual trauma, domestic and social violence, bigotry, and grief on grief on grief.

with my granny, it's entirely understandable that she was 'mad'. when I knew her, she was on heavy daily dosage of lithium - she stopped because it was destroying her gut after 30 years and she became violently aggressive, vindictive, scared, psychotic, paranoid, frequently delusional and extremely abusive. She was terrified of doctors because of her repeated experiences with medical abuse, she was furious with everyone around her, she coldly hated her husband and seemed actively happy when he died, and the thing is all of that makes perfect sense because she was profoundly and repeatedly traumatised for at least the first 50-60 years of her life.

but the thing that worries and answers me is that the elder care system and the mental health system are completely unwilling to engage with the fact that many many many old people have severe pre-existing mental health conditions. after all, how many of us have PTSD or psychotic episodes or bipolar or BPD or special care needs related to autism or OCD or ADHD or whatever? those don't just Cease To Exist after a certain age. and our parents and our grandparents grew up in times with much less support for mental health and much less awareness of trauma. granny's early traumas were familial but she was institutionalised repeatedly and treated appallingly throughout her life and that's in itself traumatic.

when granny was 82 and she stopped taking her lithium, she was frail, ill and a danger to herself and others.

they put her on a dementia ward when she was sectioned because she was Old, and Old Mad People Are Demented. but she didn't have dementia! she had chronic PTSD and paranoid delusions but she knew who, where and when she was and she was perfectly sharp, she just wasn't coping. when we went to visit her she'd say furiously 'they think I'm like the other people in here but I'm not, I'm not losing my marbles, I've always been this way'

none of us got any support looking after her while she was in hospital or after she left the inpatient ward - nobody checked in on grandpa while she was in hospital or on weekend release, and after she was released Dad looked after her single-handed while trying to deal with his dad's death. (she may have murdered grandpa while on weekend release, or he may have died of heart failure - either way when she went off the rails after 20 years stable, he gave up on life and I me and my sibling (for the record we were 10 when she left hospital) listening to her trying to continue unpicking her past trauma was I think the most therapy she got after she left.

she couldn't go into a regular elder care home because she was too unstable, she needed specialist mental health care and she sometimes needed to be constrained for her own safety and that of other people. residential mental health care facilities weren't equipped to deal with her needs as a woman in her 80s. she couldn't go into dementia care, which is about the only residential care available for old people with serious mental health needs, because she didn't have dementia and it would have been utterly inappropriate and harmful for her and the other residents. she lived to 93 and for the last 11 years of her life it was up to Dad and us to look after her in her home because there was simply nowhere else for her to go.

and what really fucks me up is that she wasn't past help. a lot of people thought she was but when she left hospital she was trying really hard to continue therapy on her own without a therapist, she drew and wrote about her life and memories and she used to sit opposite me and open up in a way I now utterly recognise as trauma therapy, she would try to find ways to talk about what had hurt her and state into the middle distance for tens of minutes trying to get it together enough to continue. she wanted to do the work. but the only people there for her were her son who was shellshocked from losing his dad and traumatised from effectively losing his mum again and who was spending all his energy just trying to get through work and home and get her physical needs met, and a couple of preteen children who had the will but not the capacity to help. we were barely holding ourselves together (mum drove granny places but mostly her capacity was being spent being about the only support Dad or us could get) and we just couldn't meet the work of a trained therapist. and eventually she gave up on getting better and got angrier and more bitter and more abusive to everyone. but she wanted to feel better. she wanted to deal with her shit. but there was no support.

and there must be thousands of people like her. older people with lifelong trauma and mental health issues who are too mentally ill for elder support and too old for mental health support. and the MH system doesn't think they're worth the resource cost because after all they're old, they'll die soon. but where are they meant to go? and how much harm does unsupported home care do to the person in need of care and to the people carrying for them? it just multiplies trauma down the generations. you can't just expect mental illness to only affect the young when the old have been just as traumatised and you can't treat them as separate issues when old people need carers who are qualified to deal with both their age and their mental health issues.

like yes many people develop late life mental health issues like Alzheimers and dementia, just as many people become disabled for the first time by age. but a lot of people are disabled or mentally ill for decades before they reach anything approaching elderly, and those things don't suddenly go away and don't have the same support needs as late-life issues.

idk. I'm very angry. if there was recognition of the need to support older people with lifelong trauma then my grandpa wouldn't have died hopeless and unsupported, my granny might have got her life back and got some healing after 80 years of living in fear, my dad wouldn't have had his own mental breakdown and slide into paranoia and conspiracy theory, and me and my siblings wouldn't have lost our whole adolescence trying to shore up two badly neglected adults' catastrophic mental health while under constant fire.

literally a ten minute weekly phone call with grandpa while granny was in hospital and weekly follow-up talk therapy for her after she was discharged could have made so much difference but nobody fucking cared. because she was Old. she was in the hospital because she was a danger to the people around her and they discharged her for the weekend as a trial run and her husband died suddenly while she was in the house and she seemed totally unbothered and they still. let her out for good two weeks later with no followup care or therapeutic follow-up and no support or advice for Dad on looking after her. they started talk therapy in hospital and then dropped her abruptly and left her raw and cracked open without any way to put herself back together. and she isn't unique it's just. Careless. and so destructive.

[aliendes]

Natural Borns - Chapter Ten

Banner by @thebannershop​

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, smut (NSFW) 

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: crying, shitty medical descriptions (probably), depression, cursing, anxiety, forced medical practices, restraints, alcohol consumption

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 4k~

A/N: I’m sorry, this is unedited. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours for your next round, dear,” Soomin says as she finishes up with your leg and leaves you. You lay flat on your back, staring at the ceiling with no emotion in your eyes, but oceans of tears falling from them. You let your eyelids slip shut after a few minutes, but you’re never able to fully fall asleep. 

 --

Soomin kept her promise and ended up coming back a few hours later. That visit was no better than the first you experienced, having been connected to those damned straps. After her second attack on your body, which you idly think isn’t technically her fault, she removed your hands from the restraints, telling you someone would be by in the morning to bring you in for ‘testing’. Her words were ominous, and while you really wanted to ask her to elaborate, you decided it would probably be better for your psyche if you didn’t know.

She had allowed you to change into a white sweatshirt and sweatpants, but wouldn’t leave the room for you to do so. Once again, for the nth time since you arrived here, you felt stripped of your basic human rights. This is how things are here, you suppose. You felt like they must be trying to break you. You wanted to be strong, but it was hard. You wanted to hold on to the fact that the boys were safe, presumably. At least they weren’t here, and that was a significant win in your mind. 

Soomin left a few hours ago, and now you were curled up in a small ball on the too small bed in the too cramped white room. White. You remember your mom telling you when you were young that white was the color of purity, the color of peace. The doves you would see at the farmer’s market on the weekends were white, and you loved to stare at them while they pecked at the ground. The memory makes an involuntary tear slip out of your eye. 

Now, white was all you could see. It definitely wasn’t bringing you any peace, and purity? You internally scoff as another tear falls. You haven’t even been here a full twenty four hours, yet you feel like any purity you did have left in you is about to be torn away without your permission. You feel cold, empty, used. You shudder to think about how much more they were going to take from you in here. 

You sniffle, bringing a hand up to swipe at the tears falling across your cheeks. It’s no use, as more just seem to be slipping out. Pursing your lips, you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. What were you supposed to do, other than submit and let them take from you? If you had any hope of getting out of here with your sanity intact, you figure you have no other option than to let whatever is going to happen to you, happen. Your lip trembles as a silent sob wracks your body. 

Your entire life has been a lie, at least, that’s the way it’s feeling to you right now. You feel like cattle, raised and cared for, only to be sold and shipped off to the slaughter house where you’d meet your demise. Killed, packaged, and consumed. A sick metaphor, but it felt fitting. 

You try to take a deep breath, but it ends up being a shaky inhale, unable to get your breathing under control fully. You have no idea how long you lay like that, sobbing to no one, trapped in a prison of your own thoughts.

The sleep that your body eventually succumbs to is fitful at best, and all you dream about is manic faces, all closing in on you like a caged animal. Hands reaching out to grab you, touch you, take from you. 

“Thanks for staying up for us.”

“Of course, Namjoon,” the burly man, known as Wonho replies easily as he holds open the large steel door, “anything for our precious leader.” Namjoon could hear the playful lilt to Wonho’s voice, so he let the comment slide with only a nod in response. He wasn’t in the mood for jokes, and Wonho seemed to get the picture when the purple haired man shouldered past him into the building. The smirk was wiped from Wonho’s face as he watched the six other men walk past him, varying expressions of exhaustion and pain written across their faces. 

The seven had traveled from the forest through the bustling city of Seoul. After hearing from Yeonjun that you were indeed being held at the Big Hit facility, Namjoon made a call to Wonho, a natural born who owned an underground casino in the heart of Seoul. It was an illegal operation, but brought in a lot of money to help their shared cause, their shared vision of attaining equality within this fucked society. 

Wonho had agreed, of course, to let them stay at the casino. There were extra rooms that his associates rented out, and most of them were vacant at the moment. The young entrepreneur was one of Namjoon’s only friends from middle school and they had reconnected after Namjoon’s escape from the facility when they met at a homeless shelter. Coincidentally, the same homeless shelter Namjoon and Yoongi would meet Seokjin and Jungkook later. 

It took the group all day and well into the night to arrive at the rundown building, as it was nearing two in the morning at this point. They were all exhausted, sweaty, and for lack of a better word, broken.

The seven of them shuffled down the dark hallways, mostly shielded from the noises of the casino underneath them. It was housed in an old decrepit building that used to be a cafe once upon a time. Now, Wonho had refurbished the inside well enough to resemble somewhat of a home, with two stories of rooms, a kitchenette, and a small den. The outside was still old and rundown looking, to deter authorities or everyday normal people from investigating. 

A side entry door to the building led to a basement, and a series of underground hallways that housed game rooms and offices, which is where Wonho spent most of his time, managing the casino and other dealings. Tonight, though, his associates were taking care of business so he could wait for Namjoon and his crew. 

Namjoon reached the door leading to what he knew was the den located on the first floor of the building, waiting for Wonho to catch up to him. The others huddled in the small space, none of them looking at each other, actively trying to avoid any kind of eye contact.

“Three rooms upstairs are empty,” Wonho huffs out as he reaches the others, eyes on their leader, “but I think you and I should have a talk.”

Namjoon gives his friend a curt nod, before turning his attention to the others. None of them look up at him, eyes trained on the floor or the wall in front of them. Another piece of his heart cracks at the sight, “You guys head up, I’ll be there shortly.” Yoongi is the only one who meets his eye, albeit briefly, giving a short nod before turning on his heel, grabbing Hoseok by the sleeve and moving towards the stairs.

Namjoon watches as they all shuffle up the stairs slowly, clutching onto one another in support, in exhaustion or hurt, he wasn’t sure. Once they all disappeared from his sight, he turned his attention back to the platinum haired man in front of him. “After you.”

Wonho surveys Namjoon for a moment. He looks different, older, even though it’s only been a few months since they last saw each other. Wonho isn’t privy to all the inner workings of their group dynamics, but he does know how strongly he cares for his friends. He had also heard about you, how could he have not? You were all Namjoon talked about when he did call, or when they had meetings. The natural born girl, the rare woman who had no idea exactly how precious she was. 

Wonho wasn’t one of the ‘special’ ones, no, just a normal natural born. He had to face his own discriminations throughout his life, but nothing like what Namjoon or the others had gone through. He wasn’t about to pretend like he knew how Namjoon felt, he wasn’t going to act like he understood. He did, however, believe in what Namjoon stood for - equality. That’s what everyone in their secret group wanted. That shared belief was what brought them all together in the first place. What formed the Allegiance, a group of natural borns and designer babies who fought for the rights of natural borns.  

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Joon,” Wonho started as he walked through the door to the den, heading straight for the small bar, “wouldn’t hurt to check-in every now and then, you know?”

Namjoon follows towards the bar, watching as his old friend grabs two small glasses and a bottle of dark liquor. “We speak at least once a week, Seok.”

Wonho raises a brow at the nickname, “You know I don’t go by that anymore.” 

Namjoon smirks, “No one’s here, Seok-ie. Besides, I never really liked Wonho.” 

The blonde purses his lips but continues to pour the drinks, passing the glass across the bar top when he finishes. “Tell me about her.”

Namjoon perks up at the mention of you, but doesn’t meet Wonho’s eye, instead taking the glass and swirling the liquid around in it. “Not much to tell,” he starts, taking a swig of the alcohol and wincing from the burn, “didn’t really have much time to get to know her.”

Wonho watches as his friend takes another sip of his drink, swirling his own glass in his hand. His knowing eyes never leave Namjoon’s form, surveying the man from top to bottom. He looked tired, and not just physically tired. Wonho could see the exhaustion in his face, in his eyes. Namjoon used to have some of the most expressive eyes, an emotive face, but with age and experience, his features have become sharper, more defined, and more empty. 

“You’ll get her back,” Wonho muses, bringing his glass up to his lips finally and taking a quick drink, used to the harsh flavour of the liquor, “Yeonjun-ie is in there with her, yeah?”

The purple haired man nodded solemnly, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yeah,” he drawled, thinking of the right words to say. He looks up at Wonho and then takes a quick look around the room, eyeing the door to make sure it’s closed and there are no listening ears. “We don’t have much time, Seok-ie,” Wonho winces at the name, but nods along anyways, “Yeonjun told me what they’re planning, what they- they’re going to do to her.” Namjoon sets his glass down on the bar, elbows resting on the cool wood and rubs a hand down his face. He shakes his head before looking back up at his friend.

Wonho looks conflicted. He knows that Namjoon is an empath by nature, a martyr by choice, and a leader by force. He understands that Namjoon will put anyone before himself, and cares deeply for those, who in his eyes, he wants to save from the horrors of the world. Wonho knows the other man will do whatever it takes to get you back, and so there is no use trying to talk him out of it, no matter how bad of an idea he thinks it is. They barely know you, Wonho knows he wouldn’t risk himself and his closest friends, family even, for a girl who probably doesn’t care about them either way. But he’s not going to push, he knows where that’ll get him. 

“Joon,” Wonho starts, setting his glass down and walking around the bar to place a comforting hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, “you guys can stay here however long you need. I’m here for you, man. You know that.”

Namjoon nods to his friend, eyes still trained on the bar top, “Thanks, Seok.” 

Upstairs, the others have split up between the three available rooms, Jungkook and Jin in their own room, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae in another, while Yoongi waits in the third for Namjoon. Most of them have showered and replaced their dirty, wet clothes with extras from the wardrobe in Namjoon and Yoongi’s room, a culmination of left-over clothes from Wonho’s employees or ex-lovers, they assume. 

Jimin and Tae were the last to shower, letting the others wash the day away first, allowing Jin and Jungkook to get settled so they could have their private conversations, their private moment with each other, the others knew they needed it. 

Jimin stepped out of the shower and was immediately handed a towel by a dripping wet Taehyung, to which he gave the younger a sad smile. The two stood in a comfortable silence, towelling off their wet locks.

Taehyung was facing away from Jimin, staring at the wooden door that led out to the hallway, lost in his thoughts, when Jimin finished drying off. He stepped up behind the taller boy, wrapping his short arms around Tae’s middle. Both of them were still only wrapped in towels, not yet having gone to find clothes. Jimin’s firm chest pressed up against Taehyung’s slimmer frame, making the younger shiver.

“What’s on your mind, Taehyung-ie?”

Taehyung sniffles, making Jimin panic and move around him to get a better look at his face. Jimin’s emotive eyes search Taehyung’s brown orbs, looking for any sign of hurt, or pain, that he could help ease. 

“I don’t even know her, Jimin-ie,” he clears his throat, a sore attempt and biting back the tears that threaten to fall, “b-but I feel so terrible.” Taehyung brings his hands up to his eyes, pushing the heel of his hands into his eye socket, willing away the onslaught of tears. 

“Shh,” Jimin shushes his other half, wrapping both arms around his center and bringing him closer to his chest. Despite the height difference, Taehyung always felt small in Jimin’s arms. He wasn’t sure what to say to the tall boy right now. He was there in the facility with him, knew what he had gone through, watched with his own two eyes what those people are capable of. 

The two of them have been best friends since middle school, having grown up in the same neighborhood, and have been inseparable ever since. Their likeness and similar genes had dubbed them ‘the twins’ since a young age, and they sometimes really did feel that way. 

Jimin has always been the tougher one, the one to stand up in the face of prejudice, protecting his other half. Taehyung has always been the softer of the two, more trusting, sometimes to a fault. He was always the sweet one, the first one to make friends. They worked well together, and made up for where the other lacked. They made a perfect team, so it only made sense when they first confessed to the other. 

That was over six years ago now, before they were found by Big Hit, before they learned the reality that is their DNA. The pair attended university together in their hometown, never suspecting they were any different from their natural born peers, until one day a representative from Big Hit approached them on campus, offering them a life of luxury. They were tricked into believing that if they sold their DNA, they would become rich. They could pay off their school debts, move away and buy a house, have the life they always dreamed of. It was appealing to them at the time, and only being twenty one years old, they fell for it. 

They had been promised room and board and compensation for their time, which was initially only supposed to be three months. Once they left school and arrived in Seoul, they realized they were in over their heads. The first couple of months was decent enough. They shared a small, yet comfortable, room at the facility. They had access to a gym, a pool, and a rec room. They just had to make themselves available during the day for testing, and were fed a specific diet and mostly vegetable and protein to keep them healthy. It didn’t seem like such a bad tradeoff.

That was until their three month contract ended, and they were given an ultimatum: comply, and get to stay together, or try to leave and fight back, and they would be separated. Jimin was initially very combative, and did everything in his power to put a stop to it, but soon realized he cared more about Taehyung than he did his own freedom, so he eventually submitted to the doctors and scientists, and was allowed to keep living in his cramped room with his boyfriend. 

The testing continued on both of them for about a year, until they realized that Taehyung was different. His DNA was more special, more in demand, than Jimin’s, and so they kicked Jimin out of the facility. He ended up living on the streets, only to be found and pulled back to Big Hit three months later after Taehyung suffered a mental break because of his boyfriend’s absence. And so, Jimin and Taehyung lived at the facility together for the last three years on and off. 

While Jimin was absent, Taehyung had met Hoseok, another resident of Big Hit, and Hoseok fell for the young man, doing his best to protect him in his lover’s absence. When Jimin returned, the three of them ended up becoming inseparable, until Hoseok’s eventual release, and subsequent meeting with Namjoon which led to the twins' first breakout. 

“Come, baby,” Jimin whispered to his boyfriend, pulling at his hand and leading him out of the bathroom. They made the short trip down the hallway to the room they had settled in with Hoseok. Said man was already waiting for them sitting on the edge of the bed, fresh clothes in a pile behind him.

When the younger two entered the room, Hoseok immediately stood from the bed and made his way towards the sniffling Taehyung. Jimin still had one arm around the boy, both naked save for the white towels wrapped around their waists. Hoseok reached out for both men, one hand on each of their hips as he led both of them towards the bed. Jimin left Tae’s side for a moment, grabbing the clothes and dressing quickly before handing over the soft t-shirt and boxers to Taehyung. 

“T-thanks,” Tae muttered, keeping his eyes trained down, not wanting to see the worry etched across either of his lovers’ faces. 

“What’s going on, Tae Tae?” Hoseok asked gently, not wanting to push the younger. 

Jimin sat on the bed and scooted back so Taehyung could sit in front of him. Hoseok brought one leg up onto the mattress, turning his entire body towards Tae, giving him his full attention. The two on the bed watched as their once blue haired lover dressed and sat down with them.

“I- I don’t know, Hobi,” he squeaked out, rubbing a large hand over his entire face before letting both arms fall beside him, exasperated. 

Jimin scooched towards him, wrapping his legs around him and kissing his shoulder, “It’s okay, Tae,” he whispered against his skin, “I know what you mean. We might not know her, but it’s obviously affecting Jin and Kookie, maybe even Yoongi. And I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you have more knowledge about what goes on in there than any of us.”

Hoseok nods along with Jimin’s words, knowing Tae has been very private about the things that happened to him behind closed doors at the facility. Even though both Jimin and Hoseok were with him in there, at least for some of the time, he never gave them details about what exactly happened to him and was only vague in his explanations. Jimin wishes that he would talk to him, but understands that he doesn’t want to relieve the things that were done to him. He’s witnessed his nightmares enough times to know it’s not worth it.

Hoseok brings a hand up to rub at Taehyung’s back, his shirt slightly wet and sticking to his broad shoulders. His eyes soften as he watches the youngest in the room bring his knees up to his chest and hug tightly, laying his head on the top of his knees. “This is silly,” he scoffs, “I don’t even know her.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” Hoseok starts, a frown marring his handsome face. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to finish his thought as risk of upsetting Taehyung even more, but decided to voice his thoughts after a look shared with Jimin, “Just because you don’t know her, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t care. Sh-she seems like a sweet girl, genuine. Jungkook and Seokjin really took a liking to her,” he bit his lip when Tae looked up at him through wet lashes, “and anyone who can make Yoongi think twice must be a keeper, right?” He tried to lighten the mood with his joke, but Taehyung’s frown only deepened. 

It was Jimin who broke the silence next, “We will get her back, Tae, and then we’ll get to know her alongside the other guys. I know you guys didn’t have much time with her, but it seems like she’s got most of you wrapped around her finger.” Jimin smirks at the older man next to him, bumping his shoulder against his. 

Hoseok smiles lightly, but it quickly turns into a lopsided frown at the reminder. He’s really the only one who hasn’t spoken to you in length. The most he ever spoke to you was when he woke you up last night. It felt like a lifetime ago already, even though it’s only been twenty four hours. Would he ever get a chance to know you better? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought, if not for himself, then for the others. He can’t deny the weird feeling he gets in his gut when he thinks about you, and he’s certain the others have a similar feeling if the soft eyes Yoongi gave you was any indication. 

“How do you know?” Tae asked in a quiet voice, looking up at his hyung. 

“Hmm?” Hoseok snaps his attention back to the younger, reminded of where he was, “How do I know what?”

“You said she’s a keeper.”

“O-oh. Well,” Hoseok started, pursing his lips as he thought carefully about his next words, “to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jungkook-ie so heartbroken. He’s obviously really affected by this, and you know him. He doesn’t warm up to people very quickly, so for him to be this torn up is really telling of his feelings. Jin-hyung, too.”

Taehyung and Jimin nod along with Hoseok’s words, having seen the duo earlier, any attempts at comforting them had been brushed off, the two only seeking out the other. They saw it, they saw the way the others seem to break at the thought of you being at Big Hit. They could tell you were something special, and Jimin was determined to make sure he got to learn first hand what exactly it was that made you so special to the others. 

“We’re going to figure this out,” Jimin says to the others, to which Hoseok nods, “and you’re gonna help, right Tae Tae?” 

Taehyung perks up, turning around to look at the blonde behind him, “Of course I will.” 

Jimin gives him a soft smile, as Hoseok continues rubbing at his back and shoulders. “Let’s get to bed, hm?” Hoseok asks, standing up and gesturing towards the headboard. Both men nod, moving to get up as well. 

Once the three of them are safely under the covers, Taehyung sandwiched between the other two, Jimin presses a kiss to the back of Tae’s head. Hoseok leans in and does the same to Tae’s cheek, making the youngest smile softly. “Goodnight, Tae.” 

The younger two fall asleep rather quickly, having been spent from hiking all the way into town, but what Hoseok wouldn’t tell them is that he laid in bed until the early hours of the morning, listening to the soft sobs of Jungkook next door. 

To be continued... 

taglist:  @mrsstilinski96 @sammiilynn10192  @minifruity​  @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz​ @chim-possible​ @kooksremedy @irishhbamb​ @sugashaye​ @lovelyseomin​ @strawberrygatorade @kookiebbyxx @itneverends15713

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Back to you (Chapter II)

Summary: Y/N Stark and Peter Parker are unconditionally in love with each other, being friends for years was just the step before making it official. BUT, just the weekend they became official Thanos and the snap happened, leaving Y/N broken: without friends, avengers family or Peter Parker. So, she has to move on, at least that’s what everyone’s telling her and she really tries to do it and who better to help her than Harry Osborn. But has she really let Peter go? What if Tony Stark -genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist- knows how to bring Peter back? And what happens when he does? Is Y/N going to avenge again? Who’s going to lead the avengers now? Who is she going to choose? Harry or Peter? and who the hell is mysterio? *He doesn’t even go here*

word count: 5.5k

author’s note: I was in exams soooo I couldn’t update this and I KNOW this chapter doesn’t have much Y/N and Peter but I SWEAR THE NEXT ONE IS GOING TO BE FULL WITH THOSE TINY MOMENTS that you love and i’m so sorry for not updating before let me know anything like i don’t know what you guys thinkkk kkk thanks

series masterlist

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You bite the red apple in your hand as you sent your last email of the day with a triumphant smile plastered on your face. Not too bad, you thought to yourself as you saw the hour.

“It’s 2:30 am, what are you still doing up?” Tony asked from the main entrance to the kitchen and you jumped as you heard his voice.

“Dad stop sneaking up on me”, you muttered as you rolled your eyes and closed your laptop on the counter. “Do you want an apple?”

Tony walked over and gave you a kiss on your forehead as he shook his head, then he walked towards the freezer looking for something else while you started to pack your laptop and charger into your backpack in order to be ready for tomorrow.

Over the last few months, you had been working on this non-profit organization and had developed it under Stark’s Industries philanthropic section. Pepper had been over the moon with your idea as soon as you brought it up and had helped you planned it, even after Morgan was born, Pepper was all over it, such a boss. The project was opening facilities for the many children that had become orphans after the snap, a number that was actually alarming. The government had tried to do its part on it, but you always knew there was no way this was an easy task and it dawned on you that you could actually do something, as your father had told you.

“So, Pepper told me you bought another building?” Tony asked as he began pouring some milk on the bottle for Morgan, you grimaced as you heard him and gazed at him carefully as he raised his eyebrows while looking at you.

“Yeah, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind…”, you muttered as Tony smirked, you remained him of himself when he was younger.

The project started with an apartment complex that you bought, it was easy since it was mostly empty, and you bought the apartments that were still being used. It was hard before you began the reconstruction as a lot of people’s belonging had to be sent to different bodegas where all the things could be saved. It was heart-wrenching, seeing everything that people had left behind, what families had left behind, what Peter had left behind.

But you tried to brush it off from your mind and, as time passed, you saw how the building began to take on life again, it was something breath-taking. Tony even helped with the design of the building and the planning in general, Steve had helped with bringing the children in and the emotional support groups, Bruce had been over the moon when you called him for advice on the educational wing and Pepper managed the few sponsors that you needed, otherwise everything was on you. The complex had divided into bedroom wings, medical wings, educational wing, a lounge wing, etc. In the past eight months, you had managed to host thousands of children and had expanded more and more as time passed from ages 2 to 18 and even more volunteers and people who wanted to help, which was incredible for you.

“I don’t mind it, try telling me beforehand anyway since I would like to update our labs in the compound”, Tony explained as he placed the milk on the microwave while he turned to you, who couldn’t help to get goosebumps as soon as you heard him saying compound.

“Sure, I’ll let you know before, I-”, you began as you tried to snake your way out of the conversation, but your dad interrupted you.

“You should really come, you haven’t visited your lab in the compound for a while”, he stated as his gazed burn your back as you tried to exit the room as quickly as you could.

And it was with good reason.

After everything you had gone through the past year, you thought that it was better for you to simply focus on one thing at the time and that had been the first few weeks to get your shit together -physically and emotionally- but that didn’t go as well as you hoped.  You had tried to work on it, on Peter, on having the closure that you never had with a boy you were still in love with although he wasn’t there more. And so, as the Stark you were and the emotional mess you were, you approached it by simply trying to put a pin on it and later come back to it, which it meant to shut off Peter from your life, at least until you felt strong enough and in a better place to deal with the grieve with full force. The thing was that avenging was a major part of your relationship with Peter, it was basically its foundation.

And you felt that there was in-no-way-in-shape-or-form that you could actually avenge again without him, as much as it hurt you to stop. You hadn’t brought it up to anyone and not many had questioned it since you had been starting with your project, you were head first as you always had been with everything so no many people thought about it… at least until now.

“Dad, I just can’t go right now with everything that’s happening and how fast we are growing, do you know how many people want to volunteer?”, you said as you passed a hand through your hair, hoping your dad wouldn’t push it.

“Don’t you want to work out some kinks on your suit?”, Tony asked as he removed the bottle from the microwave. “You haven’t touch it sin-”

You cut Tony right away.

“Dad… I’m just not there yet…”, you let out with a sighed as you turned around and left the room, your heart feeling heavy at the thought of the last time you had worn it, at the last time you had fought, the last time that was for nothing because you had lost Peter.

You walked as fast as you could through the dark halls as you tried to hold your breath in order to calm down, to forget about it and simply let it go but your breath was getting shakier with each step you gave and you felt like you had been walking forever to your bedroom…until you felt a strong grip on your arm.

You jumped by the sudden interaction and barely decided to react until you saw the red hair braided that was falling from Natasha’s shoulder.

“What happen Y/N?”, she said with concerned as she looked at you softly, your eyes meeting but after that there wasn’t much chance for you to actually keep it together.

You shook your head, angry at yourself for not being able to stop the tears from coming down.

“I just… miss him”, you stated quietly as Natasha grabbed your hand and walked you to your room with you silently.

Natasha had always been an important person for you, after Pepper she was your second mother figure and hell, she had set quite an example for you to follow. She was the first one who decided to teach you to combat training and it was behind Tony’s and Steve’s back, they thought that you were too young to start training or well, your dad didn’t even know if he wanted you to drive your life through the same road he had taken but it was too late, he had set the example and you were more than willing to follow it, even behind his back and Nat was the first one to support your decision. After that, you two just became closer with time and you had actually a lot in common, most notably your drive to do something good, to fight the right fights and to make a difference.

But it went cold after the snap.

In your mind, you knew that Nat was feeling a similar way as you were feeling, both of you felt unable to handle the trauma of failing, of not being able to change anything, on not being able to actually do what you felt you were meant to do. And so, you shut down in different ways, Nat dived headfirst into coordinating what was left of the Avengers and the Guardians whilst you felt deeply depressed before you started working on your project. You hadn’t really talked at all, especially since Nat spent most of her time in the compound, she would visit Stark’s tower now and then to let Tony know how everything was going on and to visit Morgan, but she kept her distance.

Until now.

“I’ve been trying so hard to move on, to put a pin on it and to move on”, you muttered as she held you as you sat on your bed, a little bit defeated and a little bit tired but somehow relieve to finally talk to her. “… I just feel so weak”

She placed her hand on your chin and made you look up to her.

“Listen to me, you are not weak”, Nat stated as her dark green eyes linked with yours, you could see tears barely falling from her eyes. “It’s okay to miss them, it’s okay for you to feel the way you feel because we lost a lot, you lost a lot”

You straightened yourself and wiped the tears from your eyes as you breathed deeply, but there was still a knot on your throat that wasn’t getting looser as time passed.

“I just see dad, Steve, Bruce, and everyone moving on, accepting what happened and dealing with it, while if I dare to think about Peter or my friends or Wanda or all the others that are gone I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack”, you sighed.

Nat simply shook her head as she looked back at you with a smirk.

“And here I thought I had taught you how to be observant,” Nat mumbled as she laughed a bit and you finally smiled.

“What do you mean?”, you asked her as you wiped the tears from your cheek.

“Honestly Y/N, do you really think we are fine? We are a mess, just as you are, you might not notice it as much, but we are all going through it” Nat said as you stared at her with a bug-eyed expression. You felt a little bit bad as you heard those words, you felt narcissistic not seeing past your feelings.

“Tony? He was the luckiest one, but his heart broke in a thousand pieces when he lost Peter, you know he saw him as a son as well. Steve? He lost Bucky again and Sam who were his partners and best friends, and yes, he might handle it better because of his experiences but it doesn’t mean it hurts less. Bruce? He has been confined on his lab and he can give as many motivational speeches as he wants but it doesn’t change the fact that he had to focus on finally dealing with Hulk to stop feeling the frustration and sadness he was feeling. Thor? Have you actually seen him after the fact? No. The only difference is that they are dealing with it but also trying.” Nat said sternly as you watched her carefully.

It dawned on you that maybe everyone wasn’t as good as you tried to make it seem and it sting that you were realizing how you chose a narrative that left you being a victim to the circumstances other than the usual person that you were: someone who did what had to be done and nothing held her back.

“And what about you?”, you asked her, without ill-manner, but the sole purpose of trying to find out what the women that had set the example for you felt.

Nat opened her mouth and shut it for a few seconds as her eyes fell onto the floor and quickly closed them as she placed her hands on her face, because it was hard, and you knew it was harder for her than any of the others.

“I used to have nothing Y/N, and then I got this job, this family and I was better because of it” Nat finally mused as her gaze was still focused on the ground, “and even now that they are gone, I’m still trying to be better”

“You are better Nat”, you said as you got closer to her and placed your head on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Y/N, but what I want you is to realize that you are not weak for feeling this way” Nat said as she held your hand and smiled. “You are allowed to feel this way but also you have to try to be better and better is not only diving into your project as awesome as it is. Better is able to live with it, although it’s not easy”

You simply nodded, trying to find out what better meant for you.

You awoke a little bit later than usual as you tried to sleep on what Nat had said to you the day before, what better meant for you because as much as you had been trying to say that your project was your better, deep in your heart you knew it wasn’t. As you yawned, you took your phone and began scrolling through the different emails that you had received since that earlier that morning which, were surprisingly a lot, but one caught your attention making you stand up as soon as you could.

FROM: OSCORP INDUSTRIES TO: y/n.stark@starkindustries.com

Pepper was carrying Morgan in her arms as she walked towards the kitchen as you came stumbling out of your bedroom pulling down a random shirt with biker shorts, your backpack being held with one of your arms and your toothbrush dangling out of your mouth. Morgan let out a little giggle as she saw you and you couldn’t help but smile although you knew you were a mess.

“Good morning to you”, Pepper emphasized as you pulled the toothbrush out of your mouth and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Y/N!” Morgan babbled as she pointed at you.

“mmood morninn”, you mumbled as you tried not to open your mouth and then motion Pepper, so you could hold Morgan in your arms.

Morgan giggled once more as you placed a kiss on her cheek and cooed her, letting you see tiny tooth buds emerging from her gums. If we were being honest, apart from your dad or Pepper the one thing that made you get out of bed every morning was Morgan, she was your sun. She was the spitting image of your father, she had brown eyes and dark hair, she seemed to already be developing faster than other kids in terms of communication and motor skills which was natural within the Stark family, although you suspected she was going to be the smartest of the three of you.

“What has you in such a rush?”, Pepper asked you as you reached the kitchen where Tony was already making breakfast for the four of you.

You spit of the toothpaste on the sink before your dad let out a groaned as he saw you. “Y/N come on! what did we say about doing that in the kitchen sink, young lady”, Tony stated as he flipped around some pancakes while you groaned. 

“I promise I won’t do it again, but you won’t believe who finally answer my emails”, you said as you placed Morgan on her little chair before littering her face with a bunch of pecks as she laughed loudly.

“It’s either Obama or Oscorp, I bet”, Pepper said as she answered some emails on her phone while Tony quickly served her a green smoothie she had prepared for her.

“It’s Oscorp”, you stated as Pepper gave you a high-five as you sat next to her and served the green smoothie. “He has finally agreed to a meeting with me. Therefore, I have to go to the office and leave everything ready since I’m flying to California tomorrow”

“So, you are going to see Osborn? Why him?” your father asked in a curious tone while his brows bumped together.

Tony didn’t like Norman Osborn, Tony simply thought he was a lot. Tony had known him for a while now, in the early 90’s they had talked and run in the same circle as they both lived in California, but they were vastly different. For one, Tony loved what he did and relished in the status that it gave him, and everyone loved him in the process whilst Norman was downright miserable sometimes and full of stress but also a sickly ambition. Moreover, he dived into really extreme genetic projects that actually Tony thought could be dangerous if he mixed it with his business, so as soon as Normal barely suggested anything Tony had cut off any kind of relationship which had left a bitter taste on Norman’s mouth as Pepper had reported to Tony back then. But Tony couldn’t be bothered since soon after that, he was kidnapped and then became Ironman, which drove you all the way to New York.

“Yeah, he has money down there in Cali”, you explained to your dad as he walked towards Morgan and began feeding her breakfast. “I’ll see what I can get out of the old man in order to expand the project to the west coast.”

Because of everything that had happened between Norman and your dad, you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to actually interact with him but at this point you really needed the help with how fast you were growing. Moreover, you knew that you couldn’t have just one center and the transportation of the children from the west coast to the east coast was harder than you had anticipated. Therefore, creating another center was your best option but you needed sponsors over there that could help you maintain it.

“I could let you buy another building, just not behind my back, if it saves you from talking to this asshole,” Tony said but quickly covered his mouth as Pepper glared at him and you all looked down at Morgan, she had been repeating words none stop the last few weeks.

But she was too focused on her pancakes to actually listen to any of you, while you all sighed with relief and smiled at the baby.

“Don’t worry dad, I can handle it”, you stated as you finished the smoothie and took a bit of the pancake before you got up of the table and quickly walked towards the sink to leave your dishes.

“Oh, and you should see if Harry is still over there”, Pepper instructed you gently as you nodded in response. “Before the snap, he was an upcoming force in his father’s company”

You had actually met Harry a couple of times before, when you were really young since you both had to sit together at the kid’s table when you were invited into the grand events that both of your fathers were invited to. He was actually a really polite and quiet guy most of the time until you began to play pranks at those parties which left you grounded for over a week, but it was nice to have a friend your age since you were homeschooled before you moved to New York.

“And I want you going with Happy, don’t go alone to those meetings” Tony commanded before you stamped a kiss on his cheek.

“Okay sure”, you nodded quickly before making your way out.

The ride to California wasn’t that bad, you were thankful that you had the time to prepare a little bit longer for the meeting since Norman was known for being, as your father had versed it, an asshole. But if we were being completely honest, he was the investor you were hoping that you could catch and although he mostly kept his findings in Oscorp private, there had been some buzz in the media about his recent work on genetics regarding auto-immune diseases and getting a cure for them.

“And that’s why you should give me…”, you told yourself as you looked in your Iphone camera while applying some mascara. It had been a while since you had actually dressed yourself up with something that wasn’t workout clothes or jeans since for work you just needed to be able to run around with the children and work out a meeting with the staff that had the chance to be as laid back. But as you saw yourself in the camera, you saw a much pull together version of yourself and you felt weird about it, like something new was starting, “…a fucking billion dollars Uncle Scrooge”, you let out before rolling your eyes.

“We are here Y/N,” Happy said silently as he saw you through the mirror, he had a hunted gaze on his eyes while he looked at you.

It was as he thought that you were going to break at any second, it made you feel fragile and it annoyed you too. Happy being Happy was over-preoccupied with everything, especially when it came to you. He had to watch you grow up since the moment when Tony brought you home and he had helped raise you, you had named your AI in honor of him just as Tony had named J.A.R.V.I.S. but now that you were older, it was kind of annoying

“I’m not going to break Happy, I’m fine”, you scoffed as you quickly got out of the car and walked towards the large building, it was almost as big as the Avengers compound. Nonetheless, like everything these days it wasn’t as lively as you thought it could be, you wished you could see it before the snap. “Wait for me here, please”, you said as Happy got down of the car.

“Mrs. Stark?” A young man called your name and you turned around with a tight smile.

The young guy guided you through the building which indeed was huge, but it seemed a little bit too cold without any plants or any decoration that Stark Tower or the compound had. Tony and Pepper were really into simple and sleek designs with different works of art that didn’t differ much from the style that was already there but there was a sense of warmth, of a house of a place where you belonged, especially in the compound. But instead, here, everything was grey with a light tone of wood doors, it was too uniformly design and there wasn’t much. Although you had to admit that you were seeing, they had a little more people working on the building than Stark Tower, which made you frown a bit since it had to be interesting or revolutionary what they were working on because nowadays not many people wanted to work or change, maybe younger people but there was this eerie sense of desolation because of the snap.

But your thoughts dissipated and an urge to puke entered as soon as you reached the office and the man opened one of the large wooden doors of the office.

Please don’t pull a “fifty shades of grey” entrance, you begged yourself as you walked into the office.

“Mr. Osborn, Mrs. Stark is here”, the young man announced as he signaled you to come in, you nodded in response by straightening your white blazer and white matching pants before you came in.

And you gapped as you saw the office.  It was as if there had been a war on the office, two sides that had little to nothing in common: There was an olive green decorating the majority of the office but the other half was white, there were many many different types of weird masks on one side of the office and on the floor near some toolboxes while the other had a more organized sense with a few couples of plants but also beautiful photographs in black and white.

Then someone cleared their throat as you finally gazed at the chair and desk in front of you and you could swear you hadn’t taken such a long time without breathing since you had an underwater mission with Nat a couple of years ago.

“My oh my, what a surprise” Harry Osborn let out with a smirk as he turned around and both of your gazes linked.

“What the hell? Harry?”, you stammered as the tall and muscular boy stood up from the large black chair with a smile that was worth a million dollars.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t kept tabs on Harry Osborn but you should’ve because he changed so much in the past few years you couldn’t believe it was him. He changed from being this scrawny boy who was smaller than you to this young man that could seriously be in a Paris Fashion Week if he wanted. He had such a nice jaw that could cut ice, his brows were bushy but really well-groomed as well as a little bit of facial hair, his hair was a little bit grown out and that smile, you couldn’t stop looking at it. He oozed confidence and you liked it.

He was really nice to look at and it was different because before that you honestly had thought something like that about… Peter Parker and if we were being honest, it wasn’t topping what you felt about Peter, but it was really different.

“My oh my what big eyes you have” Harry chuckled with such a low tone that it sent shivers down your spine as he stepped forward and shook your hand, which you gave it as if you were in pilot-mode since you were still gawking a bit at him. “Do you want some drops? You haven’t blinked in like one minute”

You liked it, the way he was handling it, the way he was making you feel. It was different and good, and you couldn’t help to try to retain a smile and rolled your eyes as you heard him while his eyes never left you.

“Can you shut up? I’m here to do business with your old man”, you said as you quickly dropped his hand, he had been holding it for more than what was socially normal.

He smirked.

“Yeah, about that… he was snapped, so I’m head of the company at the moment”, Harry let out with a sighed as he touched the nape of his neck as if he was actually embarrassed by it.

“What?”, you asked.

Harry walked towards his desk as he offered you to sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk, which you accepted and walked over to it with a skeptical smirk. He was just one year older than you and now he was the CEO of Oscorp Industries at 19 and you couldn’t help to think how you would handle things as CEO of Stark Industries when the time came but you remember how awful it must feel to run something that your father left behind.

“Yeah, it actually feels really good being here without having him judging my every move”, Harry sighed as he sat down, there was a lingered bittersweetness in his voice as he spoke.

“I’m sorry you lost him either way”, you offered with a small smile. He looked at you directly with a stern look, as if he was trying to figure out more about you as if he was trying to read you on your comment but he couldn’t.

You knew he couldn’t because you had learned how to cover it up, how to maintain the perfect spy poker face but somehow it was getting harder with him looking at you like that.

“Thank you,” Harry said quietly, his mind getting lost for a few seconds, but he quickly came back. “So, what can I do for you on this beautiful day Mrs. Y/N?

You breathed out as you took out your computer and quickly opened the documents of the non-profit proudly, ready to tell your presentation to him. “So, I have this project for you, I don’t know if you are interested but I need someone to help me here on the west coast”, you said as you turned the computer for him to see the documents.

“This is incredible” Harry managed to let out as you continued.

For the next three hours, you talked and really talked about it. The presentation on your project went extremely well and he had all the right questions, without a doubt you were prepared for everything but not how enthusiastic and how fitted he was for this program. He told you that before the snap he was actually working in the most affected parts of Africa and South America with different diseases that affected children, even spent over a year working with children over there to improve their health, with a lot of begging to his father he had managed to install a lab there and hire a team to work on it and keep the children healthy with their different developments. He was really damn good and bioengineering, he was the top of it since he had learned from his father but the thing he hadn’t learn from him was the ambition, he really just liked to help. He understood how privilege he was and how he needed to go beyond and do something else, which somehow tickled your emotional underbelly and you thought it would be incredible to have him on your team. Harry looked passionate when he talked about it when he suggested ideas to improve it, when he already gave you three options where you could open another facility and for about two seconds you felt like you had forgotten the snap… but somehow the topic snaked it’s way to the conversation as you both sat on his desk while touching the holograms you had brought to show him a scale of how you were planning to design the new center.

“So, how bad the snap was for you?” Harry asked for a second as you drank a little bit of the lemon juice he brought you and you swore you would choke but instead, you just remained quiet. “If you want to answer, otherwise it’s okay”, he assured you.

You stayed silent for more than a second, it was hard to talk to someone about it who was outside your family, you hadn’t even tried actually but you thought that you could to him, you felt like you could be vulnerable and it was something different, he made you feel okay with the way he was so respectful about it. Yet, you felt your heart sinking as you thought of how Peter became ashes in your hands, as you thought how you simply stopped feeling him, at how you screamed and shouted at the orange sky to bring him back, to bring back the boy you loved with all your heart.

“It was bad”, you finally said after a few minutes. “I lost a lot of people, I lost someone I…”, you felt vulnerable as you swallowed hard and tried to calm the knot in your stomach. “I really really loved him, and I couldn’t do anything about it, I just saw how he turned to ashes”

Harry nodded for a second as realization crossed his face.

“I forgot you were an avenger” Harry muttered apologetically. The thought of him forgetting you were an avenger made your skin crawl and it felt like someone had punched in the stomach as you looked down. Was an avenger, you repeated in your mind before he talked again.  “I’m so sorry… that would have been extremely difficult”

“It was, but what about you?”, you asked curiously as you tried to brush off that extremely vulnerable moment.

“As I told you, I don’t have much of a problem with my dad being gone although it did suck when I found out” Harry let out as he looked the other way, and then he looked back at you. “But I was in Latin America when it happened and there was this kind that I really loved, we had formed a bond and he just disappeared in front of me… He was only six. It’s been really hard for me, maybe you don’t’ unders-”

“I understand”

You let out as you looked back at him, both of you remained silent but you were interrupted.

“Mr. Osborn, you have another meeting with the head of the mutations department. I can’t push it back anymore” The young man said while he opened the door slightly.

Harry sighed with frustration as he gazed at you for a second while you bite your lip a bit while you put your blazer again.

“Give me a minute and I’ll be out” Harry answered, and the young man simply nodded, quickly closing the door.

You sighed as you picked up your laptop and then looked at him, waiting for him to talk but he was simply staring at you, his mind was working, and you could almost tell how his bolts and nuts were working in his brain, how focus he was. He suddenly gazed back at you, your eyes linking with his dark brown eyes with intensity, you smiled a bit and he smiled back.

“Y/N…would you mind going to dinner tonight? With me?” Harry asked,

You stopped breathing but before you knew it, you were nodding. 

TAGLIST: @spideylovin @eridanuswave @featuringcone9

[operationwell]

Reflections on Past Institutionalization

Today was the day that I knew would be coming. The day I would have to face, process, and differentiate between my past experiences in psychiatric facilities, and my future stays. I know that all of this doesn’t necessarily happen in one day, but rest assured - it is happening. 

5 years ago, In April of 2015, I entered a hospital in Schaumburg, IL at around 8pm. My Auntie had heard that this hospital offered free psychiatric evaluations, and we had planned to go and have a simple assessment where they could provide insight into which medications were hurting and which were helping my cause. About 6 weeks prior to this, I had been prescribed Celexa as an antidepressant and it caused my depression and anxiety to skyrocket beyond my control, and I became flooded with suicidal ideation. My doctor (the psychiatrist of every student on psych medications throughout my university) insisted that I remain on the medication for 6 weeks. As my symptoms worsened, he prescribed me Trazodone as a sleeping aid and Klonipen to help with my multiple panic attacks daily. As medications were thrown at me, my health worsened. I struggled with sleep disturbances (insomnia, night terrors, inconsistent sleep schedule), I lost weight (food quickly became unappealing on the medications, I had no appetite, I had difficulty eating as I would become nauseous and vomit during and after consuming food) and my health deteriorated. I stopped going to Yoga and working out multiple times a week because I was no longer functional enough to continue. My grades slipped and I received 3 “incomplete”s in my classes and had to finish my work months later for credit. I dropped my commitments to the Chicago Coalition for the Homeless, alongside many clubs and school groups. I was closeted from my family and all but 2 friends, I had recently broken up with my partner of 3 years. I was in therapy on my college campus, and nothing seemed to be working... so a free psych evaluation sounded like the right thing to do.

That day, I received an award from Loyola University Chicago School of Communications that I was their top student in the Advocacy and Social Change program. Little did the school staff know that within a few hours I would be Baker Acted. I got dressed up and invited my Auntie and 2 friends to the celebration. Like most days when the world feels like it is crumbling, I laughed and smiled and moved through the motions. Saying goodbye to my friends, I packed a weekend bag to head to the suburbs, this was typical seeing that my Auntie is one of my closet friends and mentors, and I frequently “ran away” to her guest room in order to escape my troubles. We agreed to go to dinner with my uncle and cousin, then go for the free evaluation. I pushed food around on a plate and I drank a Shirley Temple with my then 9 year old cousin, Dylan. 

I entered the hospital with Auntie late in the evening. I put in my headphones to listen to Bon Iver because my anxiety was triggered by the hospital environment. I filled out a form that asked two yes/no questions: 

Within the last 24 hours, have you had thoughts of killing yourself? Yes No

If yes, do you have a plan to kill yourself? Yes No

I circled yes for both.

I told myself that dishonesty was not going to get me the help I needed, so I told the truth. After I handed in that questionnaire, my hands were tied. No matter what I said in the clinical evaluation, they would legally have to keep me under the Baker Act. I tried to explain the ways that the medications I was taking were making it worse, how my anxiety and depression were related to trauma, but they were not interested in that. They were interested in protecting me from the threat of myself. The admissions staff informed me that I would be staying for the next few days in the hospital. When I protested and tried to leave, they threatened to call the police. I looked to my Auntie for guidance and she broke down saying “I am so sorry, I wouldn’t have brought you here if I knew they would take you from me”. My auntie is the light of my life and even though this experience was incredibly trying, I am so glad that she was there with me holding my hand and making sarcastic jokes throughout the process. She was, and continues to be, my rock and my safe space. Thank you, Auntie.

I was stripped of my clothes, searched, asked to squat and cough. I was brought into the adult ward with nothing besides the clothes I wore in, and a notebook. I was shocked as I finished the evaluation process - it was now the middle of the night. One of the night staff saw me enter my room and was intrigued because “I don’t look like the other patients in here” to which my response was “what should I look like?” we spoke about religion, and what my goals were; I shared with him my purpose - to bring peace to the world through advocacy, conflict resolution, and vulnerability. He was kind. He very well might have been an angel. But I am convinced he was real. He gave me a gift, and I still have it. A book about hope, religion, and peace. Inside the front cover he wrote “Be at peace and know that you are love”. When he left my room less than 30 mins later, I showered and got into my bed, I slept till the techs woke me to take my blood and I never saw that man again.

The next 72 hours consisted of sharing a room with an older woman who insisted on being naked 24/7 and caused plenty of problems in the ward, attending all-day therapy and coping skill development groups, trying to convince the doctors and nurses I was cured and able to leave, attempting to escape my parents worried calls, being constantly poked and prodded by nursing staff, commiserating with other patients (most of whom were much older than me), and coloring in mandalas and calling it “art therapy”.

During this stay, the psychiatrist kept my diagnosis of depression and anxiety and added “You need to watch out for Bipolar”. He immediately started me on Abilify, an antipsychotic, and after 3 days was convinced the Abilify helped enough to discharge me. I went straight to the pharmacy after my stay and found the medication was $116/ pill. The drug was new, did not have a generic at the time, and I could not afford that, so I discontinued the use of the medication. 

By this time, I am deeply concerning my parents and they have bought me a one way flight to South Florida for the summer after my sophomore year. I was planning on working at Boston College for the summer and spending my entire junior year abroad in the Philippines and Vietnam, but the international travel was not brought to fruition. My parents were hurt by my secrecy, terrified, and looking to help alleviate some of my suffering. They helped me to get to a psychiatrist that might be able to help with the medication situation, and he did. I was put on Zyrexa, an antipsychotic, and the next day the sun came out. I stayed on the medication for over 4 years, but it caused grueling side effects including excessive sleeping, sedation, mixed mood episodes, and extreme weight gain to name a few.

After I was institutionalized, I told myself that I would try whatever I could to avoid the trauma, the expense, and the repetition of my experience in the ward. I felt that while I was held there, I was a prisoner, I had no rights, I had no resources, and I had a one person support system. I never wanted to go back.

Now, I am in very different shoes. I have knowledge and information. I have an entire degree dedicated to better understanding mental health and the system, I have years of experience working clinically in the field, and I have an incredible support system. I am currently seeking treatment to titrate off all unnecessary medications, to stabilize my mental and physical health, and to work intensively with clinicians on sustainable coping mechanisms. This is not like before. 

Today I spent most of the day crying and wondering how I could possibly face being stripped of my agency and belongings again, being isolated from my supports again, and being forced to take medications without consent again. The answer that I found in my tears is that I don’t have to face that again. This new situation of seeking residential treatment is dredging up emotions and memories from my experience 5 years ago; but this is different. I am afraid, and I am allowing myself the grace to feel that fear and tend to it. As I care for myself I am also caring for my younger self, my self at 19, and at any other age when I felt alone, afraid, and out of options. Once I have done my tending, I am able to open my eyes and see that in the here and now I am surrounded by support, I am brave, and I am patient with my options. 

I am surrounded by love. I am love. I am at peace.

Here is something I created in 2015 while in the psych ward. All text is quotes of staff and peers during my 3 day stay.

[ladyofpurple]

here it is: the post Literally no one was waiting for. i'd put it under a read more thing but i'm on mobile and can't be assed to get out of bed so fuck it. we air our dirty laundry on main for the world to see like men.

so waaay back in february or something, i started seeing a psychologist again. i'd been seeing a psychologist for a while last year, but she had a private practice and got too expensive over time, so i had to stop. now, however, i finally got a referral to the public mental health offices in my county. which is nice, because norway has this neat thing that means when you go to the doctor, public health care facilities, refill prescriptions for medications you have to take daily, etc, the money you spend on those things gets recorded and after you've spent like $260, you get a free card that gets logged into your medical records and you don't have to pay for any of those things for the rest of the year.

anyway, i mentioned a couple of years back that i finally got put on antidepressants for the first time. they helped a lot, but then i just... stopped taking them. there wasn't a reason, really. i just forgot to take them one week when i was stuck in bed with a headcold, and then it was hard to get back in the habit again. i tried to get back on them off and on for a long time, but i'd inevitably just forget again. until, like, i wanna say november/early december last year? i started taking them again. there were still some slip-ups every now and then, but for the most part i took them almost every day. any gaps were no longer than two, maybe three days at the most, and those gaps were maybe once a month or so on average. averages aren't really useful in this context, but i hope you get the idea.

anyway, i finally convinced my doctor that, no, seriously, i really need to see a psychologist, i've always needed to see psychologists my whole life, seeing psychologists help me, i can't afford a private psychologist so i need a public one, and after a lot of begging and insisting on my end and a lot of hemming and hawing on her end she finally agreed to refer me. except she forgot to actually send the email she'd been typing in front of me, and then she quit, so there was a lot of confusion and time spent sorting things out until i got my first appointment.

i didn't like my psychologist at first. she was way older than i'm usually comfortable with (that's a personal me-problem that i know is irrational, and i'm not gonna go into the why but yes i'm working on it), and very blunt in an exasperated sort of way. she made me angry sometimes. she made me feel like i wasn't trying hard enough. but she helped me get shit done, so i guess she was doing something right.

in june she called in a psychiatrist to help adjust my medications, so i started taking zoloft in addition to the other medication (remeron, aka mirtazapine) that i was already taking. the mirtazapine was helping with my depression, but my anxiety was still pretty bad. the zoloft helped.

by my second appointment with my psychologist, she asked me whether i could have adhd, or if there was a history of it in my family. now, i have a lot of family with adhd (how closely related we are by blood is a bit of a mystery to me, my family tree is more like an overgrown hedge and who knows who fits where), and my grandma used to joke that the women in our family "all have a little bit of that adhd brain in us", but as far as i knew, nobody in my immediate, direct bloodline had such a diagnosis. i had my suspicions about myself, of course — i knew that not every focus or attention related problem necessarily has a specific attention disorder source, but i also knew that what i was experiencing couldn't be "normal," in the sense that if i walked into a room with 100 people in it, 86 of those people wouldn't necessarily look at a list of my symptoms and go "oh same hat." i've had add on my about me for a while now. maybe that was silly of me; i hadn't been diagnosed with it, and what i knew about the specifics of it were picked up piecemeal off the internet. you know, that super-reliable place where everyone is honest and factual all the time?

anyway, this began the process of investigating the merits of such a potential diagnosis. research was begun. questionnaires were taken. my mom was invited to one of my sessions, in which she revealed that, oh yeah, bee tee dubs, she's always suspected i have adhd. did she mention that she has also apparently always suspected ocd and that i'm autistic? no? whoops, well, she has now.

end of june i was referred to the neuropsychologist devision of the public health care place. over the course of a little over 6 weeks i went in for 2 interviews, in which i answered several questionnaires, talked about my life and childhood and traumas and what my mom had told me about her pregnancy and labor, every possible symptom i'd ever had, and was sent home with even *more* questionnaries. in addition to these, i went in for two rounds of "testing," in which i was tested on my memory, pattern recognition, reaction time, impulse control, and probably a dozen other things. i was nervous. it was exhausting. i wanted answers but was terrified of what those answers would be.

end of august, my mom came with me for the big reveal. and guess what? she was right. primary diagnosis: adhd, special emphasis on the attention deficit part. bonus diagnosis: asperger syndrome. surprise! i'm autistic, i guess.

it was hard to come to terms with. which sounds really silly, since i wouldn't have even been taking those tests if i didn't think the outcome was a possibility. and it's not like the diagnoses were surprising either. the adhd part was easier to accept, mostly because i already felt pretty confident i had it. but the asperger diagnosis was harder. having to unlearn all those ingrained ableist stereotypes and social stigmas is hard, especially when you had some you didn't even realize were there. it's very surreal to think a thought and be like "no, wait, i do that. that joke is about me." it's a very surreal and slightly upsetting experience to realize how biased you are as general rule, but especially about a facet of your own identity you weren't aware of. and the feeling of everything and nothing changing all at once. i've always been like this. a doctor telling me i have two cognitive/developmental disabilities isn't an event that magically gave me these disabilities. my brain has always worked like this. the only difference between me now and me a year ago is that i have an official, medical reason for Why now.

that's another thing: coming to terms with the idea of being "developmentally disabled." it's not like i'm suddenly a different person — i have to constantly remind myself that my brain has always been like this. but having a piece of paper confirming that i am legally entitled to special allowances in the workplace or at school because i have not one, but two "disabilities" is absolutely buckwild to me.

it makes me reevaluate my life and my past. how many situations did i make worse because i did not have the capacity or knowledge about how my own brain works to self-reflect? was i high-functioning in the past because life was simpler? was it because i subconsciously had a better handle on what works for me and what doesn't, and somewhere along the way i lost that? or was it simply because i didn't have the option to be anything other than high-functioning? it's confusing.

i also lost my spot at college. i can still reapply next year if i want, but at least now i know why i was failing out lmao

anyway, by my birthday in september we started the process of adjusting my medication again. upping my zoloft, getting me off remeron, and as of 6 weeks ago or so, beginning ritalin.

it was a rocky start, but i'm up to 60mg now. two pills in the morning, one in the afternoon. i have a goddamn alarm for 8am every day, even weekends. my sleeping is still wonky, but at least im genuinely tired by 8pm every night. the psychiatrist still wants me to try melatonin for a month (even though i told her multiple times it has never worked for me, and my problem has never been "i'm not sleepy enough"), so i'm on a whopping 2mg of melatonin for the next 30 days. norwegians are fucking WEIRD about melatonin, don't even get me started.

a slightly unexpected side-effect (on my end) of these medication changes: remeron made me gain weight. like, a lot of weight. and i was constantly hungry all the time, overeating to ridiculous amounts. why did nobody ever tell me that weight gain and metabolism changes are a side-effect of anti-depressants? i was more active this summer than i'd been in, like, three years and i just got fatter. which was incomvenient because i kept outgrowing my clothes. anyway, a side effect of ritalin is a loss of appetite and general weight loss. the combination of regularly taking ritalin and dropping remeron entirely? i eat a fraction of what i used to before, i've almost entirely stopped snacking, and i've lost 15 lbs in less than a month. i've already noticed my face is slightly slimmer now. maybe by christmas i'll be able to fit into my old tshirts again.

anyway, my psychologist quit, so i have a new one now. i've only seen her a few times, but she's veeeery different from my old one. i can't decide if i like her or not.

in the middle of all this, i've been going to the social security office as well to kind of get some of my own money, possibly help me get a job at some point in the future. my caseworker is super nice. if she's over 30 i'd be shocked. i relate to her really well, she's very helpful and understanding, and she's very patient with me and my bullshit. she's the kind of person where if we met at a party or something we could probably hang out.

anyway, she's helped me get out of the house sometimes. she introduced me to this youth club volunteer group thing called the fountain house, designed for young people who've dealt with or are currently dealing with mental illnesses and such. i hung out there yesterday and the day before and did some basic office work. it's nice. and then there's a work placement place that can either give you a job on site in one of their four departments, or help you get a job at an actual business elsewhere with more support and leniency than you might get if they just hired you off the street. i'd start in their second hand store. they clean and restore all donations they recieve, and they're super fucking cheap. i treated myself to my literal lifelong dream of owning a vintage typewriter (!!!!!) yesterday, because it's almost christmas and goddammit, i've been doing so much shit the past couple of months i deserve it. do i have space for it? not really. do i have a plan on what to use it for? no. was it heavy and miserable trekking through the snow and rain yesterday back and forth? was it worth the backache in the morning? fuck yeah it was.

a fucking lot of things are happening all at once. diagnoses, medications, lifestyle changes, work placement, social clubs, dealing with bureaucracies on all sides just so i can feel like a person again, not to mention juggling hobbies like writing and drawing and maintaining my irl friendships. i'm getting as many balls rolling as i can while i have the opportunity and mental/emotional capacity to, but i'm worried i'll burn out again. i'm stabilizing and slowly building my life back up, but jesus christ it would suck if this stupid house of cards collapsed again. but i'm tentatively optimistic. who knows, maybe it's not to late to course-correct my mistakes.

so long story short, that's why i've barely been active on tumblr for months. that's why i haven't been writing, drawing, or reading fic. it's coming along, but it's slow.

i guess the most important thing is that it's coming along at all.

[imagine-lcorp]

Patient Zero (Full Text)

A/N: Hi guys, like I said here is the full text of this story. This one started as a one shot for halloween week, my little attempt at the zombie trope as you can see. I wanna thank the dear Anon that came into the ask box to request a second part and who shared ideas to continue the story. Kudos to you!! This is the final result and I hope you guys liked it. I know it’s not the final everyone expected but idk i felt this had to end like this...questions, complaints, complitents, whatever, you can hit it guys! and please let me know what you think about it. :) It was a pleasure to write this for you.

Lena Luthor x  Zombie!Reader//Word Count: 5,612

00:00. Play.

00:02. Hello, Lena...[Sigh]

Your face was the first thing Lena saw after clicking on the video file in her mail. It had been a long time since you two had seen each other. You had been close since boarding school and, even after you left to med school, you kept working together in small projects. She remembered that time when you had tried your own research project to cure cancer at Jack's garage. She admitted she always had a thing for you but then she had met Jack. So you remained good friends. Then you lost contact after she moved to National City to run L-Corp. She tried to run a company and you tried to become the next nobel laureate. You didn't talk as much as you used to but she always remembered you with a soft smile.

00:05. If you are watching this, it means two things. One, that I managed to sent this video with top secret information to you, and two, that I... that something has gone terribly wrong in my lab.

At first, she didn't believe it. It was just not possible. Only when she read the files, things started to make some sense. After she finished reading those documents for the fifth time, the true horror of the situation shocked her. She needed a moment to think and she started to pace around her office. It was a lot to process and a lot more to do. If she was going to help, she also needed help.

00:23. For the past two years I've been working on a project to undermine the growth of cell populations and genetic material in different organisms. The research's purpose was to develop a treatment for people with cell growth disorders. Even a cure if possible[Pause]Six months ago we finally tested a serum. Forty people participated in the clinical trials. The results were particularly significant and optimistic. No serious side effects were reported...[Heavy sight] Until two months ago.

"Shouldn't we be talking with someone in the World Health Organization?" Kara questioned. For her, it looked more like some kind of conspiracy theory. "I mean, this seems strange."

"And what if they try to cover it?" Lena tried to convince her. "These companies are even worst when it comes to cover their mistakes. (Y/N) sent me this video because it was the only way to ensure someone else knew about this." She was truly worried about the situation, even more about you. "If Supergirl goes to check the activity in the labs at least we would know if there's something to worry about."

Kara sighted. "Ok, I will contact her but, in the meantime, let's try to find out what else is happening."

00:57.  When we ran the test again[Pause]We discovered the pathogen had evolved, unlike anything we had seen. In the time it took to run the tests, there was a complete reversion on the serum's effects... The company has practically done nothing at this point, we're in lock down, alone, and they will try to erase the whole thing, for sure. [Rising voice] Heck, they will let us die in here...

Once Supergirl finished scanning the area, she flew directly to L-Corp to inform Lena about her findings. She didn't wanted to believe it but you had told the truth. If they did nothing, there was a chance the situation could worsen.

"The upper levels are mostly offices but they were empty, there was nothing in the building. It's almost as if they vanished."

"Did you find the laboratories?" Lena asked concerned.

"They are seven levels underground." Supergirl's voice was cautious. "Only the sixth level seems to still be active."

"Could you see what was in there?" The uncertainty was killing her.

"You need to start working on those formulas." Supergirl's face was grim.

01:25. The serum, it's transforming them... I-It doesn't seem like they are human anymore... We tried to contain them as best as we could but now we are the ones trapped in here. We've been trying to work on an antidote but I don't think I will be able to finish it...

Lena had been looking at the monitors in the DEO with the information regarding patient zero. A subject test that had been diagnosed with carcinoid cancer just before you started the clinical trials. This person had been the first one to present anomalies and was used as the basis to develop the antidote. Alex had worked along side Lena for three days straight until she was sure the antidote would work.

"This could have been one of the greatest discoveries in modern medicine, you know?" Lena said nostalgic.  

"Dr. (Y/L/N) was really aiming for that nobel." Alex would have responded more impressed than she sounded, if it weren't for the imminent danger such discovery had brought.

1:45. I'm sorry I'm dragging you into this mess but I don't trust anyone else. The information I sent you, everything is there. Documents, procedures,  test results, formulas... [Deep breath] Our own work is there. It will be easy for a genius like you to crack the code. And if anything, we already found our patient zero. If you can make it, if you can reach us, it all will be ready for testing.

"We're all in position and ready to enter." Alex spoke from over the comms.

"Remember to be careful. It's been seven days since the look down, we don't know what's inside." Replied J'onn.

"We will." Supergirl assured and turned to Lena to check up on her. "You ready?"

She was far from ready. A group of ten people, along with Alex and Supergirl, had been assigned to go into this mission. The objective was to deliver the antidote but, if necessary, the team had been given orders to eliminate any thread inside. Lena couldn't stand idly if there was a chance to find you, so she practically added herself to the group. No one could talk her out of it.

"Ready." She said with the chills crawling up on her spine.

02:11. [Light chuckle] Too much for the cure of cancer, right?...

When the team reached the sixth level, there was no sign of you, but everything else so far seemed like a scene from a horror movie. Of the forty four people that were inside, ten were still trapped in several rooms, like rabid animals, covered in blood and hitting themselves against the glass walls. Fifteen had already died of starvation and, their rotted bodies, were scattered in all directions. Nine had been stopped by Supergirl, and seven had to be shoot by the team and their bodies remained motionless on the floor. It had took eight bullets each to put them down. Two were still alive, if she could call it that, trying to crawl their way towards them.

After the shock of the scene, they finally moved towards the place they were looking for. There was a containment room in which, according to your plans of the lab, the patient zero was left. Lena walked feeling a knot of fear in her throat.

They reached the room and all they could see was a figure standing in the middle of the room. There was no movement. The figure, Lena inquired, was one of the scientist as it was dressed in a white coat. She hoped that person could still be saved. But the figure turned around, and something in her told her it was a lost case.

She saw a haggard face, unrecognizable, bloodshot eyes streaming with black blood. It was a  terrifying vision. Then she looked at the attire, noticing something on the coat pocket.

02:17. [Heavy sigh]Dear Lord, I really hope you're watching this...

The identification card had a name she recognized and realization hit her like a train wreck. Fear overwhelming her once again. She didn't want to believe it. It was just not possible.

02:29. Stop.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N). You were patient zero.

00:00. Play.

00:03. [Y/N]: [Camera shaking] Say 'hello' to the camera! [Laughing]           [Lena]: [Laughing] Hi, camera!           [Jack]: Hello [Smiling and waving]

Four years ago, Jack, Lena, and you had been spending weekends and days off at Jack's garage doing an impossible research. The three of you were well aware about the implications and obstacles of trying to find, the so called, cancer cure. Even when your college research had come down to hardly a few insignificant discoveries, you three had been more than content to spend those days together. You were friends and nothing mattered to you more than keeping that friendship. But now, Jack was dead, you were part of the living dead, and Lena had no idea what to do to help you.

It had been barely two days since the DEO team, Supergirl, and she had found you, and other forty three people, in your research labs. Thanks to whatever authority, they had been able to move you from the company's labs to another facility of the DEO. Only eleven trial subjects, including you, were now contained in separated cells. There were ongoing investigations about their identity, medical history, and health conditions regarding the clinical trials. A team of biomedical engineers was working, along Lena, to revert the effects of the serum, as the antidote she had synthesized only managed to stop the development of the symptoms.

She had spent those two days looking over and over again at your research, your formulas, notes, your own medical records; whatever that could help her understand how the serum had worked on the cancer cells. They had also recovered some of your personal items from the lab and your department, your cellphone and laptop. Lena had checked every archive you had regarding this project, and something more. You had kept photos and videos of those early days. She watched that video with nostalgia, like she could find an answer in it but unable to find it. She just didn't want to lose you too.  

00:11. [Y/N]: [Clearing throat] Ladies and gentlemen, you're watching America's Next Top Scientist, starring your fave engineers, Jack Spheer, genius Lena Luthor and (Y/N) (Y/L/N).           [Jack]: Wait, how's that Lena gets to be called genius?  

"Why are you still here?" Kara came into the lab, pulling Lena away from her distractions. "I thought J'onn had sent you home."

"Sorry, I lost track of time." She responded with a smile that didn't reach her eyes and put your laptop aside.

"Any news?" Kara stepped in, walking towards the table in which Lena had been working non-stop for the last four days.

"Not really," she sighted, "only what we already have but..."

"What is it?" Kara furrowed her eyebrows when she heard Lena's voice trail off.

Lena shook her head. "There's something off with the medical records, and (Y/N)'s last clinical tests are from three years ago."

"But, didn't (Y/N) have sent you everything?"

Lena remembered that day at her office in L-Corp, when you had sent the video and the research files had popped into her email. Everything is there. You remembered you saying, there was no reason to doubt that now. It will be easy for a genius like you to crack the code. Maybe it was Lena's exhausted brain but those last words resonated in her mind. Every document and piece of information you had sent had been considerably accessible, you hadn't put passwords or security codes... There was one somewhere.

"Where's Winn?" Lena snapped out of her thoughts.

00:28: [Y/N]: Because she is.           [Lena]: [Laughing lightly] Mm-hmm, don't contradict the presenter, Jack.           [Y/N]: Yeah, get with the program, Spheer.           [Jack]: Alright, alright [Rising his hands and smiling] so, what's todays challenge?

Winn had spent a whole day corroborating every single piece of information you had provided. Time that Lena was told to use to rest. She reluctantly left the facility with the condition that Winn would call her once he could find anything. He had promised to do so and, twenty seven hours later, Lena was again on her way to the DEO. When she arrived, Alex, Supergirl, J'onn and Winn were already gathered on a computer room, waiting for her. Several screens were displaying all medical test results from the forty people involved in the medical trials.  She looked at the screens not really understanding what was happening until Winn started to explain.

"Ok, so, I know the priority here is trying to find a cure for whatever is happening with our fellas in solitary confinement-" He started.

"Mr. Schott, to the point, please." J'onn stared at him.

"Sir, yes, sir." Winn cleared his throat. "Ok, so when we checked the documents (Y/N) sent, what we were looking for was essentially all medical information we could gather for the antidote, right? However, we never stopped to check if the information in previous test results was right."

"Yeah, that was not important at the moment." Replied Alex, crossing her arms. "We already knew the trial subjects were cancer patients and the diagnosis was confirmed in other records."

"What I mean is we never checked their personal information. Or the information stored by the labs and hospitals where their studies were made. Look." He typed something from his tablet and the test results moved on the screens.

"Why are there two copies of the same tests?" Asked Supergirl confused. Lena was the first to notice the differences.

"The numbers in the patients ID, age, birth date, and social security number are different." She took a step towards the screens.

"Yes, and I also found this." The screen changed one more time, showing what appeared to be the main menu of an app. "This is part of the system program used by the laboratory, and this is where they keep all records of research and clinical trials. And guess what? Their latest investigation is encrypted."

Lena stood there, watching the screens, when it all came rushing to her. This was what she was looking for.

00:43. [Lena]: Figure out how to stop the metastasis of cancer cells?           [Y/N]: Yep [Small pause] that and stop Jack from blowing up something else in his garage [Laughing]

Winn had spent another day deciphering the encryption system the lab had used to shield their information. J'onn had tried to get the intel directly from the people that ran the company but it had been useless. As far as they were concern, this case was nonexistent. Eleven people were still in airlock cells, waiting motionless with haggard faces and famished bodies. Only when an alarm went off or other person came in close proximity to them, they seemed to react. The black blood had stopped leaking from their eyes and, according to their recent test, the cancer cells in their bodies didn't present further changes or development.

Whatever was happening inside of them had stopped. They hoped they would stay that way. Meanwhile, Alex, Lena and the biomedical engineers, were still fighting for a solution to counteracting the serum, in hopes that the patients could be saved. But if there's something you cannot fight no matter how strong, intelligent, or brave you think you are, is Mother Nature. No one had expected this to ever happen again. The earth beneath them started to shake, slight movements becoming violent in a second. Everyone at the DEO started to move looking for a safe place, as cracks appeared from the ground and the lights swung, and flickered, from the ceiling. Lena and the doctors stayed in the lab while J'onn, Alex, and Winn were the first ones to reach the central controls after the alarms went off.

"Not again." Alex growled.

"The emergency system is working but when the power comes back it will reboot everything." Winn was typing as fast as he could on the computers.

"You need to stop that." Said J'onn with a strong voice. A minute later, the system rebooted.

00:53. [Lena]: [Laughing in the background]           [Jack]: Oh no, you didn't!           [Y/N]: Oh yes, I did [Laughing].

The alarms were still ringing when the energy came back. Lena and the engineers were the first ones to see eleven emaciated bodies run loose. What had happened at your lab was happening again inside the DEO. She only had a second to recover and seal the room's door near to her, as a figure was fast approaching. Even the glass door was closed, the figure didn't slow its pace and hit the door with its head. At the impact, Lena took a step back, raising her hands as if to protect herself.

She had lived this moment before but now she was the one trapped inside the room. The patient hit the glass once more but this time with angry fists. She wanted so desperately to get away but fear had woken up inside of her, paralyzing her in place. That instant of fear was enough for her brain to notice an evident fact she had tried to ignore. She looked at the figure and felt the cold chills crawl through her entire body. Oh, what she would give to stop it all.

00:58. Stop.

"(Y/N)." Lena's voice wavered.

00:00. Play.

00:01. [Y/N]: ...here, this is for prosperity [Smiling] Say cheese!          [Lena]: [Smiling] Wait, you're recording! [Laughing]          [Y/N]: [Loud laughter] Oh, sorry. Just let me- [Camera shaking and focusing on the floor]          [Lena]: No, no. Leave it! [Camera focusing on Lena] It works for prosperity either way.

Her voice was more of a whisper, lost among the sound of strident alarms. Her heart was pounding so hard, she could hear the beating in her hears. She looked at you, at your factions, your famished figure. There was barely a shadow of who you were hiding behind bloodshot eyes and, as if a faint moment of recognition passed between you two, you stopped hitting the glass doors. She saw you there, a smiling face and bright eyes, as if you had never changed.

For a moment, she saw her friend and she wanted so desperately to make that moment last. She knew someone was calling her name but it was like a distant sound. She then saw you turning, to follow the path the others had taken, and disappeared. Moments later everything was quiet again.

"Lena? Lena! Can you hear me?"

"Miss Luthor!" One of the doctors snapped her out of her trance. Lena saw her pointing at a laptop with Alex's face.

"Alex? What's happening?" She put herself in front of the laptop, ready to receive news or instructions about what to do. The moment before still lingering in her mind.

"Is everybody alright?" Alex asked first.

"Yes, we locked ourselves in the lab, the patients are out." Lena answered.

"We know. We are locked too in the control room."

"What's gonna happen now?"

"We need to move, immediately." Alex wouldn't take no for an answer.

"What do you mean? Why?" Lena was more than just worried now. She couldn't leave the investigation like this, so suddenly.

"All the patients are here near the main rooms." Alex made a pause. She wanted to put it in the best light but there was no possible way. She sighted. "But they are rabid, Lena, even with the alarms off they keep hitting doors and walls."

"Are you sure? The patients could only be reacting to your presence." Lena tried to argue.

"No, this is different. We moved out of their vision line, they know we were still inside."

"Can't your agents move them back to containment?"

"There was a malfunction in the cells due to the earthquake, we cannot put them back there, and we don't have the necessary equipment to prevent direct contact. If this is like the first time we cannot risk it going out there just like that and the rescue team cannot pull us out in that kind of chaos." Lena looked at her team. They were paralyzed with fear after hearing that.

"Ok, how are we doing this?" She wasn't going to put them in danger.

00:16. [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Alright. Then tell me, how does it feel to start your last year at boarding school?          [Lena]: Ugh, horrible.          [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Why? Aren't you glad this torture will be over soon?          [Lena]: I am but it also makes me sad.          [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Why?          [Lena]: Cause after graduation we'll have to say goodbye to each other.

"You didn't have to stay last, you know?" Alex said after sealing the lab doors.

"You didn't have to come for me, you know?" Lena was typing on one of the DEO computers.

"As if." Alex approached her and pulled a gun for her. "Kara would kill me if I leave to your own devices. Now, do you know how to use one of these?" She watched Lena take the gun and raise an eyebrow. She then remembered the little incident with Corben. "Alright."

"Where are the others?" Lena asked and moved to another computer.

"Moving to the safe zone." Alex was looking through the glass panels for any sign of movement. "J'onn pulled a distraction but we have to move fast. We are the last ones."

"Ok, I just need a minute." She finished typing and a 3D model of different cells appeared on the screen.

"What's this?" Alex went closer to her to see what was keeping her still in here.

"I ran a few simulations for a modified formula of the antidote we made first."

"We don't have time to make it." Alex said softly, she knew what Lena was trying to do.

"I know." Lena watched the screen. “But I also needed to know if there is a chance."

There was never anything certain about finding an antidote and yet Lena was able to find a counteragent for the serum. She hadn't given up hope and Alex was certain she wouldn't until every resource at her disposal was used. If Kara had been in a similar position, and there were times she was, she would do everything in her hands to save her. She understood that and wished she could find a way to bring you back. Alex put a gently hand on her shoulder.

"Crap." Alex turned quickly around and whispered through her teeth. The sound of bangs and screeched voices fast approaching. "We gotta move, now."

00:35. [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Oh c'mon, that's not gonna to happen. We have plans, remember?          [Lena]: Me ending world hunger and you discovering the cure of cancer?          [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Yes [Cheerful] and we'll be working together to do that. Sounds nice, don't you think?

A minute of silence. That's all they needed. Silence to let you pass. Alex and Lena were sited behind a control panel, hiding and trying to make themselves smaller, like such thing could help them. The was no other noise but your dragging feet on the concert, your erratic breathing, and the small grunts that sometimes came out of your mouth. Lena had to put a hand over her mouth to stop a little yelp when she heard you smashing a computer on the other side of the room.

Alex's mind was racing, she tried to remain calm and control her breath. The escape wasn't going to be easy. Their guns were useless at the moment. Lena had been pretty resolute about it, the patients needed to say alive, sort of, especially patient zero. Not to mention the sound of gunshots could attract the other ten that were all over the place. If they wanted to be out of that room they needed to be as sneaky as possible. They would have to hover all the way down through the dormitory rooms, the containment rooms, the infirmary, and the storage units. All the way to the back of the building were the others were waiting.  

Alex considered their options, hide or run. The first one was the safest. The rest of the patients seemed to be busy looking for anything in other places and, as long as they stayed down, patient zero couldn't find them. The second option, running, was a bit trickier. Alex was sure they could go from point A to point B in a matter of minutes. They only needed to run, as fast as they could, and only turn around to shot if the patients were getting too close.  

What worried Alex the most, however, was the lack of ammunition. Between Lena and her, they had thirty bullets. If things got out of control and they needed to use them with the patients, Alex calculated, they would have to use at least three with each one of them. Last time, she remembered, they had to use eight. The numbers were not in their favor.

Both women listened attentively. There was no more noise except for their strained breathing. Lena turned to look at Alex, determination and resolve in her eyes. Whatever Alex considered was best, she would follow her lead. Alex understood the gesture and nodded, if they had to do something, they had to do it know that they were alone. Alex raised three fingers and mouthed "run". Lena nodded.

Three. They were preparing themselves, getting into position. Two. Lena held her gun tightly, feeling a cold sweat run in her forehead. One. Time to run for their lives.

00:52. [Lena]: We are going to change the world, uh? [Smiling]          [Y/N]: [Behind camera with a louder voice] Yeah! That's the spirit!          [Lena]: We just have to survive five years of college, remember? [Laughing]          [Y/N]: [Behind camera] [Grumble] Ugh, true. You got it easy, you're a literal genius. [Curious tone] What was your IQ, again?          [Lena]: Please, you just need to study a bit more and stop procrastinating. [Raising an eyebrow]

They had passed beyond the dormitories and the containment rooms, where they were able to dodge five of the loose patients. But six of them were still out there and they couldn't know exactly where. Later, when they reached the infirmary, they finally had to draw their guns towards the three raging and gaunt figures, who were looking for something to wreck.

Lena felt her heart about to explode with the adrenaline, as she pulled the trigger of her gun. Alex was always near her, doing the same, aiming at the patients. They couldn't think another thing as they tried to keep them at bay. The bullets were barely doing any damage and, Alex discovered, the only way to really stop them was to shot them in the head. Lena was not content with that but, after almost losing an arm, she realized it was for the best. They couldn't stay there any longer. Not like that.

After the third body stopped moving, they only wanted to take a second to breath, but they knew others would come after. The sound of gunshots was still lingering on the empty walls of the DEO and, they could listen clearly, some guttural cries getting louder. Alex made the math. Six bullets. That's all they had and it was barely enough if they could take the shots. Lena knew it too. Two patients were still loose around them and they had to keep moving. They only had to pass the storage units and they could be safe.

01:12. [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Easy to say, I'm probably gonna be a zombie during finals [Grumble] Can't somebody just shot me now?              [Lena]: Oh, no. You are not allowed to die before we change the world. Remember?

Her muscles were burning and the fear was crawling through her whole body again. Seeing your face filled with blood and delirium as you chased them through that corridor had been the last straw.

Alex had to shoot first, two bullets that only managed to hit the patient that was behind you. Neither of you stopped. Another bullet from Lena's gun hit your chest. You kept running. Alex pulled the trigger. Finally stopping the emaciated body that had followed you. Two bullets for patient zero, that's all that was left.

Lena had recognized you. How she didn't know. There was nothing in you now that could have told her you were her friend turned into a monster. Only that little shadow that refused to leave the back of your eyes remained. She shot you once on your chest. The bullet passing near your heart making you stop a few meters away from them. They were close to the safe zone. Only one room and they could reach it.

But you didn't want to stop. You couldn't. Lena knew she had to use that last bullet if they were going to make it. She didn't want to shot. You were the patient zero. Part of the key to the cure was still in you. She knew she needed you alive to keep gathering samples and making tests.

You kept moving, slowly and with difficulty but sill advancing. Bloodshot eyes were looking at her. A starved, disfigured body trying to reach her. A voice no longer human screaming at her. She didn't want to shot. Part of her telling her it was still you. Not all gone. She needed you to stay alive so you could see the fruit of your work.

You kept moving. Hands pressing your chest as black blood poured from the hole in it. Then, a faint second of recognition and acknowledgment. It was no longer you who was inside. She didn't want to shot. Parts of her heart breaking. You were all gone now. She aimed at your head and pulled the trigger.

01:23. [Y/N]: [Behind camera] [Sigh] Ok, but they better give us that Noble after that.          [Lena]: [Laughing] You're always so humble.          [Y/N]: [Behind camera] [Nonchalant tone] I know, I know [Both laughing]

Three years ago, you arrived one night at National City General Hospital with fever, nausea and abdominal pain. At first, you had though it was food poisoning, or something similar, but the abdominal pain became constant and worse. The doctors had taken you immediately to surgery to perform a common procedure, but what they found had been a bit unusual. Appendicitis had been the first diagnosis. A carcinoid tumor, the second. Distant spread in liver and lungs of carcinoid tumors, the third.

Two and a half years ago, you started to work on the project on your own. Moved by a fear you never acknowledged, you searched and researched everything you could. You spent days and nights reading investigation papers, research reports, medical journals, test results. You had even taken that little research Jack, Lena, and you had done during college years. This work had become the priority and you were determined to find a solution.

A year after the cancer diagnosis you started working on it in the company's labs. It had been an almost impossible task to convince investors and the company board to let you start this project. In the past decade there had been barely a few significant discoveries about the disease and the idea itself of the cure of cancer had been ridiculous for them. But you show them that, even if the cure for cancer was impossible to accomplish, the company could still gain from your patents and discoveries. You assured them, with a smile, the reward was bigger than the risk.

Six months ago you had injected thirty nine people and yourself with the serum. Trial after trial in your investigation had leaded to that moment. The selected patients were given a dose of the serum and were asked to document their symptoms and medical diagnosis with their general doctors. During four months there was nothing but positive results. Your team was euphoric, the company was satisfied. You were hopeful.

Two months ago you realized it all had back fired. Your team reunited the other thirty nine patients to run the tests again. There cancer cells were not only increasing at a faster rate but they were changing. The serum was no longer a remedy but a catalyst.

One month ago, the company knew it was a lost case. The patients were getting worst and you had started to feel the symptoms yourself. For the first time ever, you didn't curse your slow growing cancer, as it had somehow relented the serum progress. You had to fix it somehow. You had to do it fast.

Two weeks ago, the company had left you and your team alone inside the labs. They saw your mistake and they wanted it all gone. The small hopes you had been all vanished, replaced by the dread you had tried to avoid since your diagnosis. You screamed, you cried, and tried to remember your life and the good in it. If you were going to die anyway, you wanted to leave with the fond memories about your family and friends. The love you shared with them. The adventures. Your hopes to change the world. And Lena.

Two weeks ago, you took all the files and documents, and modified them, knowing the company wouldn't let them leak that easily, and put yourself in front of a camera. Not because there was a solution, a cure, an antidote, but because there was someone out there. Someone away from this hellhole that could make things better.

           00:00. [Recording]

           00:02. Hello, Lena...

You started and a little hope returned to you. After all, she was going to change the world.

01:34. Stop.

Lena's voice was soft and trembling, like you were dreaming and she was afraid to wake you up.

But your dream had turned into a nightmare from which there was no wakening.

"(Y/N)." She said after the last bullet went straight to your head.

You didn't move again.

[picardonhealth]

‘What is mandatory self-isolation for travellers?’

Why are so few people listed as “recovered" and more questions, answered by André Picard

Tuesday, June 02, 2020

The Globe and Mail

The rules are changing so readers have a lot of questions about self-isolation, social distancing and quarantine.

André Picard answered additional reader questions including “Can someone without symptoms spread the virus?” and if food delivery is safe.

Our FAQ also includes definitions of commons terms like social distancing, self-isolation, and flattening the curve.

Need more answers? Email audience@globeandmail.com .

What is mandatory self-isolation for travellers?

It’s like when you land on the Monopoly square that orders “go directly to jail, do not pass go.”

As of March 25, all travellers returning from abroad (including the United States) – by plane, train, boat or automobile – must go directly home and stay there for 14 days. No stopping at the store on the way. No going out for walks. No shopping. No visitors. Leaving the house is allowed only for essential medical care. This is no longer a polite request: It is a legal order.

Under the terms of the Quarantine Act, violators could face up to six months in prison and/or $750,000 in fines.

Are travellers the only ones who have to self-isolate?

Everyone who has been diagnosed with COVID-19 must stay home for at least 14 days, until they have been given the all-clear by public health officials. This is also a legal obligation.

What happens on day 15 of self-isolation?

If you have tested positive for coronavirus, after 14 days you must undergo testing to ensure you are now negative, and be cleared by public health. If you self-isolated because you were showing symptoms, or because you had travelled outside Canada before the legal order, you can resume normal living. Or, at least new normal living, where we are all expected to practise social distancing.

What do you do if you’re supposed to be in isolation and have kids?

Ideally, you want to minimize contact with other people, including your children. But that’s not always realistic. If you have tested positive, it is recommended that, as much as possible, you remain in one room and avoid sharing a bathroom. If you live with someone infected, you have a good chance of being infected (the risk percentages are all over the map so not worth mentioning). The good/comforting news is that children tend to only suffer mild illness, for reasons that are unclear.

How does a separated couple keep their family safe when one parent is staying home and the other parent works in a social setting but still wants to spend weekends with the kids?

Family dynamics can be difficult to manage at the best of times, and coronavirus adds another degree of complexity. Custody agreements should be respected, with few exceptions. If one of the parents is infected with COVID-19 or has recently travelled outside Canada, the child or children should probably stay put – because that parent is not allowed to leave the house.

Otherwise, the usual advice applies: Try to keep contact to a minimum.

There seems to be a lot of conflicting information. Who can go for a walk?

Anyone can go for a walk who:

Has not been diagnosed with COVID-19;

Does not have symptoms of COVID-19;

Has not travelled outside of Canada in the past 14 days.

That means most people can go out for a walk, but they should not congregate and they should practise social distancing by keeping at least two metres from others.

But the official advice is also stay at home as much as possible.

There are thousands of coronavirus cases, but few people are listed as “recovered.” Why?

To be considered recovered, you must have a positive test, complete 14 days in isolation, then undergo two more tests, at least 24 hours apart, both of which must be negative. While it may feel like this pandemic has been going on for a long time, few people have actually spent two weeks in isolation. Because there has been a shortage of tests, retesting patients has not been a priority.

Does a COVID-19 carrier with mild or no symptoms stop being contagious after 14 days? Or are they forever contagious?

Viral illnesses, whether a common cold or COVID-19, run their course and then you stop being infectious. Most people who are infected with COVID-19 start showing symptoms 5-14 days after exposure. Generally speaking, when you start feeling better, you stop shedding the virus and are no longer infectious.

I was sick but it was mild so I was told by public health that I did not need a coronavirus test. Am I immune now? Do I still need a test?

Soon – it is hoped – there will be a serology test, which is a blood test that will tell us who has been infected and developed antibodies (meaning they would likely be immune). This information will be important as measures such as self-isolation and social distancing are lifted, because people with immunity should be able to return to work safely.

If you have COVID-19 and get better are you immune?

After a viral illness (or a vaccination), the body develops antibodies that confer immunity. However, immunity is not always absolute because viruses can mutate. That’s why we need a flu shot every year. There is some debate about whether people can be reinfected with coronavirus. At this time, the principal concern for the vast majority of people is still not getting infected in the first place.

Do people with COVID-19 lose their sense of smell?

There are reports that early symptoms of COVID-19 can include anosmia (loss of smell) and dysgeusia (loss of taste). But the principal symptoms remain a dry cough, chills and fever.

Can the virus be trapped in our clothes? Should we wash clothes differently to be safe?

The virus can survive even on soft surfaces such as clothing for hours, but they are not seen as a major risk of transmission. Wash your clothes as you normally would. However, if someone in your household is infected, you should take extra precautions when doing a wash, such as wearing disposable gloves and using hot water. Many people who work in high-risk settings such as hospitals remove their work clothing at the door, and then wash and change before interacting with other family members.

Can you get COVID-19 from using your apartment’s shared laundry facilities?

The biggest risk is always from other people, so maintain a physical distance of two metres and wash your hands before and after visiting communal spaces. But the virus is not going to live in the washer or dryer.

We’re being asked to wash our hands constantly but why not wash our faces? Since our ears are connected to our nose and throat why don’t doctors tell us to not touch our ears?

Regular handwashing is recommended. Not touching your face – and your mouth and nose in particular – is also important. That’s because the coronavirus enters the body principally through the mouth and nose. Viruses rarely enter the body through the ears – even those that give us earaches – because they are not an efficient entry point.

[highbuttonsports]

The Leafs, The NHL and 2020

First and foremost I want to start off by saying fuck 2020. It’s been full of tragedies, sickness, death, racism and everything in between. As someone who follows sports religiously and has always used sports as an escape from reality, I’ve found it very strange to not be able to get lost in a game, a highlight reel, or conversations surrounding sports. This has been a difficult time for the world as a whole and there are many more important issues that are happening besides a lack of sports but I’m not going through all of them as my passion for writing is hockey and the Leafs.

Is hockey coming back? I believe so. Is that right? Without being a Doctor I really can’t answer that so I’m going to trust the NHL and the NHLPA in their decision to return safely inside their bubbles. The plans I’ve heard about in the hub cities are really impressive and extremely thought-out. Although the NHL has not confirmed the 2 hub cities, Rear Admiral from @spittinchiclets podcast tweeted out yesterday evening that “Vancouver is gonna be the second hub (along with vegas).” Also earlier yesterday NHL insider Chris Johnston tweeted out that “phase 2 will be expanded to 12 players for on-ice sessions.” The previous on ice maximum was limited to 6 players and the new maximum of 12 skaters is in effect as of today. This may come as a bit of a shock to the hockey community after learning Friday that 11 of 200 players have tested positive for Covid-19 but it seems like they are moving forward as planned. I’m sure the NHL expected some positive cases and given the rapid growth of the virus in the United States, this isn’t shocking. The faster they get into their bubbles in the Hub cities mentioned the better, quarantine the positive cases like anywhere else in the world and continue regular testing. The key to this whole “hub city” plan will be to keep these bubbles as airtight as they can and keep up with testing in my opinion.

I didn’t really want to go here but ill express my feelings quickly. Out of the 11 players who tested positive for Covid-19 there was 1 name mentioned and that was Auston Matthews. Steve Simmons of the Toronto Sun posted on twitter Friday that Matthews has tested positive for Covid-19. This is the first player in the NHL who has been publically named by the media and of course it was Simmons who broke the story. Shortly after the breaking news The Toronto Maple Leafs put out a statement basically saying that they will not be commenting on reports surrounding the testing for any of the players or staff and that a person’s medical information in this regard is private. None of the other respected hockey insiders such as Bob Mackenzie, Elliotte Friedman, or Chris Johnston even commented on the story out of respect for the player and his family. Simmons has shown over the years that he has no boundaries and no respect for players personal lives and the online world let him know that this past weekend. TSN Overdrive, a Toronto based radio show deleted hour 1 from all podcast platforms shortly after they put it out which included Simmons talking about his story, even they didn’t want to be associated with him and that says a lot.

Now let’s dig into the best of 5 play-in series between the Leafs and Blue Jackets and take a look at how these 2 teams match up. I firmly believe this isn’t going to be like any playoffs I’ve ever witnessed. Players aren’t going into this beaten and battered by an 82 game regular season, instead, they are going to a fan-less arena with no crowd noise, no home-ice advantage, and this will be a very different feel for the players. Some players will do fine with this but I think a lot of players feed off the energy of a full arena and I’m not sure how this will impact them. Most teams will have full, rested benches that will be itching to go when the puck drops. These teams are almost polar opposites when comparing team stats, and overall team structure. Columbus is low scoring, defensively-minded, hard-nosed, and extremely well-coached by John Tortorella. While on the other hand, we have the high flying offensively minded, high risk — high-reward Maple Leafs. One thing to note is that even though Sheldon Keefe hasn’t had a full season with the team or even a healthy team by any means he has done remarkable work thus far. Since taking over the bench he has posted a 27–15–5 record which translates to a .628 PTS %. For comparison sake, Mike Babcock had over a .628 PTS% once in his last 9 seasons coaching in the NHL. We’ve seen dramatic improvements on special teams, all-around team chemistry, the lines, the ice-time, and what’s not working is being constantly changed with Keefe. The Leafs have also been without Morgan Rielly, Jake Muzzin, Ilya Mikeyev and multiple other key players for much of this season and they still managed to find success under their new coach. I’m beyond excited to have Rielly back in the lineup as he was nursing an injury during the beginning of the season and was never really himself. When he is playing to his potential he is the type of player that elevates everyones game around him. The goaltending battle between Andersen and Merzlikins could end up being the deciding factor in this series. Elvis has yet to face the Maple Leafs or play an NHL playoff game and Andersen has proven to sometimes start slow at the beginning of seasons which is kind of what this is at this point isn’t it? Andersen has spent almost all his time with Matthews during the pandemic shutdown until recently when he traveled to LA after reportedly testing negative for Covid-19. I think that much time with Auston who is a big game player will prove to be a positive thing for Freddy moving forward. When guys spend a lot of alone time together and grow as friends they really want to push themselves to compete for their buddy and teammates which will ultimately be a good thing for the Leafs. As I mentioned before this is going to resemble the start to a season where we see looser hockey, more mistakes and more goals before defensive structures and timing are locked down by teams which give the Leafs the advantage. They are highly skilled and can burn teams offensively in a hurry and if the D is healthy and plays tighter under Keefe I believe the Leafs should be able to get this done and move onto the real playoffs. The Jackets are going to play a physical style of game and I think the Leafs are up to that challenge, especially with Clifford on the bench. We’ve seen a side of Auston, JT, Kap, Holl and others before the season got shutdown that we weren’t used too. Guys were sticking up for eachother and getting a bit feisty out there, now I don’t know if that is all Clifford but I’m sure having him around helps.

Camp will be interesting as highly touted prospect Nick Robertson has been added to the expanded playoff roster along with Egor Korshkov and Kenny Agostino. Now you might say there's no way these guys get into the lineup but remember this isn't a regular playoff and they need to win 3 games to even get into the playoffs so whoever excels at camp, exhibition games, and who proves they are ready to go will most likely play. Hard to say if everyone will show up in shape ready to play after being quarantined without gym facilities for 3+ months. My lineup predictions are as follows (presuming Matthews is healthy).

Hyman-Matthews-Marner, Mikeyev-Tavares-Nylander, Engvall-Kerfoot-Kapanen, Clifford-Spezza-Gauthier

Rielly-Barrie, Muzzin-Holl, Dermott-Ceci

Andersen, Campbell

Also note, depending on how things go Keefe won't hesitate to make any changes he sees necessary such as swapping Ceci for Sandin or Gauthier for Korshkov, Roberton Etc. I kept Engvall in the lineup because he really showed he can PK and finish in a streaky fashion which might come in handy, he has high hockey IQ and I feel he can be trusted out there. Mikeyev coming back is also a massive boost to the club and I hope he takes off right where he left off, flying around and endorsing soup. Another advantage going into this series is that Tortorella and Keefe don't know each other's tendencies and that we finally have a coach who will adapt on the fly and that coaches to win.

Chris K.

[dunghillxx]

So I was encouraged to “journal” to get some of the stuff that runs through my head out..so I’m going to try and do this but knowing me, I’ll write one post and forget I agreed to commit to it and not write another one for months.. oops. 

Anyways, I’ll make this post about some of the positive things about my job. And save all the negative depressing shit for a different day, different post.

Let me start by saying that I love my job. I never thought I would find a job straight out of school that I absolutely loved. You always imagine that working for a living will suck and you’ll hate it but you’ll do it because it’s what is expected of you and what needs to be done. You never imagine that it’s something you’ll genuinely love...but I was wrong. My job is everything I had hoped for when I went into nursing school. This job provides me with what I had always hoped to gain as a nurse and I’ve only been a nurse for a year and a half. How did I ever get so lucky?

Although I don’t enjoy working NOC because of the hours, I do love other parts of it. I think I get more face time with my residents working NOC because I have less treatments and “nursing” things to do so I get more time to sit with a resident and chit chat. I would miss that if I worked days because you’re so busy all day long. My little talks with my residents is my favorite part. There’s two residents in particular right now that have imprinted themselves on my little heart and they are the two I want to talk about right now. Although all my residents have impacted me and they all hold a special place in my heart, these two are sticking out to me lately so I want to talk about them to start.

We’ll start with my little lady, M. I took care of her as a CNA. I took care of her husband as a nursing student. I’ve known her for a long time. We’ve grown pretty close since I’ve taken the NOC position on the unit I work on. She is the last resident’s room I go into at night so I would always sit and talk with her for 15-20 minutes and we’d just talk about what was going on and just different little things. I really look forward to these little chats. She’s with it enough to hold a conversation and remember it weeks down the line so it’s easy to talk with her. She always asks about my boyfriend and my family, like she genuinely gives a shit. It’s just nice to talk with someone who is very reminiscent of my grandmother. She’s had a lot of medical issues back to back recently and it’s really been bringing her spirit down. She was coming out of her room less, doing things she enjoyed less, basically beginning to give up because well she was sick and tired and sick and tired of feeling that way. So Rene and I took her out to lunch for her birthday to cheer her up. Man, did she love it. She talked about it for days. She was instantly saying how she can’t wait to do it again and was trying to think of a good place to go for next time. A restaurant she hadn’t tried yet that she had always wanted to. She was happy. And it made me happy to know that we were able to do that for her. But then she got sick, again. And she’s just gotten sicker since then. She’s been in the hospital for several weeks now. I’ve visited her multiple times, but she’s sick and tired (like usual) and she just sleeps when I’m there. She had to have a huge surgery done that I always had a feeling would be the end to her because it was a huge change medically, physically, and emotionally and I just thought it would all be too much for her to handle. And, right now...I’m seeming to be right. She was supposed to be discharged back to our facility over the weekend but since then has gone septic and is now in very rough condition. Who knows if she’ll even get to come home to us or if she’ll pass in the hospital. It’s really hard to tell at this point. I’m hoping she’ll get to come back so she can be with us, her only family, when she goes. But I guess only time will tell. It breaks my heart to know she isn’t doing well and may or may not get better. But I try to remember that day we took her out and how we impacted her so much just by doing something so simple.. but man, does it suck knowing she may not be around to chit chat with sometime soon... :/ I pray things turn around for her because I don’t think any one of our residents deserves to die alone in a hospital..

Then there’s my little man, L. He is very reserved and closed off. Doesn’t really let anyone know what’s going on in his head. He has a lot of medical issues as well and was given some not so lovely news recently, but he never really showed how he was processing it all, because he doesn’t really talk much to anyone. And he’s very stubborn and independent and kind of a grumpy old man sometimes, so I feel like he kind of turned off anyone from TRYING to figure him out. But me being me, took it as a challenge. I know he hates being bothered by us nurses. But I figured, me being a NOC nurse who has to do less “nursing” things to do than the day nurses, and between the choices of NOC nurses, I’d be the one most likely to crack him and get him to open up. So, let the journey begin. I’ve been trying for months to gain his trust and get him to open up to me. I’ve done nice things after nice things, I’ve gone out of my way to do things for him. I’ve done way more than I’ve needed to as a nurse for him. I’ve ALWAYS done what I said I was going to do and done it WHEN I said I would do it so that he could see me as someone reliable. I’ve always been joking and playful with him so he wouldn’t view me as some bitchy nurse who just wants to bother him with something. I’ve researched his chart and his medical background to get a better idea of what’s going on with him and what he’s been through. When he got his unfortunate news, I researched for at least 2 hours on things he could do to improve his situation. I got PT to start working with him again (although he doesn’t know I did any of this, I could tell that it was all turning his bad mood around and he was smiling more and joking around with staff more). So I felt accomplished. He has surgeries and procedures done quite often, I would leave him little love notes wishing him good luck and leave them on his night stand when I went home for the day so he would see them when he woke up. I mean, I’ve been working at him for a few months now. And although I wasn’t really seeing any progress until lately, I did notice that although he still rolls his eyes when I bring needles around and that, he never VERBALLY gave me shit like he did with other nurses and I got smiles far more often than anyone else. So it was the tiny accomplishments that I took in stride. 

Anyways, my past two nights on were milestones for the relationship I was trying to build between us. He had recently had a surgery done and he was having a lot of pain and circulation issues in his arm/hand. So I spent over an hour in his room trying to regain circulation in his arm so that I wouldn’t have to send him to the hospital (because he would rather die than go to the hospital). And he was so sweet and patient with me. He let me do what I needed to do. He didn’t give me shit for bugging him. He was open minded to all my suggestions. He was great. And I got him feeling better and the next day he was STILL sweet with me and thankful and told the day nurse that I was so sweet and nice to him and stuff which I felt great about. And then...THEN!!! He had bumped his arm and aggravated his stitches so he needed his dressing changed, so I was in his room changing the dressing and when we were done, instead of just leaving and going back to whatever he was doing, he literally just starting spewing off all kinds of stories from when he was younger. He told me all the jobs he did while he was in the Navy. He told me all about his life when he was younger and how he used to be a little shit and con people and just he went on and on for an entire hour! I’ve never heard him talk so much. And he was LAUGHING and SMILING and so happy to talk to me about it and reminisce. and OMG MY HEART. I couldn’t believe that my months of hard work were FINALLY paying off. He has NEVER told anyone on our unit about what he did for a living or what he did in the Navy. He never talked about his life before to anyone. He always keeps to himself and doesn’t talk about anything. My heart was so full knowing I finally broke down some walls with him. I ended up having to go into work on my day off and instead of just strolling past me while I was at the desk, he stopped and smiled and talked to me and watched me play with the cat at work and we were laughing together at how she was playing. I mean, I’ve never felt so accomplished at work and I can’t wait to see how this relationship progresses. I really hope I end up being someone he can genuinely trust with stuff and talk with. I hope this wasn’t an isolated incident and that our relationship can continue to grow. Although I am competing with my NOC CNA, I think I’ve broken more ground than her so I’ll just keep our interactions private now so that she can’t one up me haha.

These positive things are what I need to focus on with my job in order to stay sane but sometimes all I can think about is the negative. So I’m hoping writing it all out, the good, bad and ugly, will make me feel better. So my next post probably won’t be so much full of happy memories but more of the realistic side of my job because those things eat at me as well... Anyways, until next time!

[thenightisland]

you know the drill:

this is becoming like its own series but idk how else to explain this awful year i don’t even feeling like properly linking so here’s just the URLs of the other ones in the series: 1. http://thenightisland.tumblr.com/post/161087786689/explanationsupdates-under-the-cutmore-i 2. http://thenightisland.tumblr.com/post/161920216354/additional-updatesexplanations-under-the-cut 3. http://thenightisland.tumblr.com/post/163767959805/updates-under-the-cutmore-post-one-post-two-on 4. http://thenightisland.tumblr.com/post/164398486219/on-the-fourth-edition-of-what-the-fuck-is

one of the assessors got jumped a while back. she was just walking past a pt in the main assessment dept and he jumped up, punched her in the back of the head, took her to the ground and beat the fuck out of her. she was out for weeks and weeks and had broken facial bones. i can’t believe she didn’t quit.

our nurse executive quit though. not like, went prn or gave two weeks notice, like just straight up was like I’M DONE and walked out which honestly is the closest i’ve ever come to respecting him.

while having more psychologically unstable pts isn’t new, having more medically unstable pts has been a problem lately. like our crash cart is not like a medical hospital’s crash cart it’s like. an ambu bag some iv supplies and a stethoscope no lifesaving medications. when a pt has a medical issue we send them out to a medical hospital because obv we don’t have the resources to treat complex medical issues where we work. which didn’t used to be an issue because you’d used to see maybe two medical codes a year on my unit. we’ve had /ten/ since my last update post /just on my shift/. two of which weren’t even “pt is going downhill fast” codes they were “pt has no heartbeat and isn’t breathing” like we had to fucking bring two people back from the goddamn dead /within ten minutes of each other/. we’re all like we’re psych nurses man if we wanted to do this shit we’d work er. [and the er we’re required to send these pts to is awful like they sent us back a guy who had almost died twice in three days who had an /untreated brain tumor/ bc obv he’s totally fine]. or we’ve been doing mash unit style medicine like the suicidal kid with partial thickness burns all over his chest and neck that literally no one was doing anything about. we were debriding burns with a mixture of different PO IM and SQ drugs to achieve the same effect as IV morphine because debriding is extremely painful but not doing it will just make things worse and no one else seemed to care so we just fucking did it. like we’ve done so much medical nursing lately. like the one with the uncontrolled severe seizures that led to the medical hospital labeling her first break schizophrenia despite no family history of mental illness but /five different medical issues that all cause psychosis/. or the one they let on the unit despite being on the do not readmit who has untreated hiv that he actively tries to give to other people and /active tuberculosis/. or the one with the aneurysm. or the one with severe CHF. and on and on and on. and remember: we’re not the most medically unstable unit in the hospital because we have a 40 bed /geriatric psych unit/ so you can imagine the kind of pts /they’re/ getting. on the plus side, all of our ten odd codes lived.

my personal life is still a goddamn mess, of course, but that’s a given. don’t even know where to begin with all that. and i can’t talk about a lot of it which makes it that much more fun.

i had an entire crisis about the odyssey [which tbh is still kind of going on even after /weeks/] because i’m getting so cagey in memphis because i fucking hate this town. and i just got back from new orleans which is the closest thing i have to an ithaca at the moment and it killed me to come back to this fucking city.

i’m also really paranoid right now because after i come back from vacations, something terrible always happens and i’m not exaggerating it’s like clockwork to the point that the bad things have all happened between friday and sunday after i’ve returned from my vacation, each time, without fail. well that would be this weekend so i am just waiting to see what great horrors await me this goddamn time. [last time, it was the whole coworker killed in vehicular homicide thing]. but i guess paranoia isn’t the right word. you’re only paranoid if you’re wrong, and my life has already set the precedent. so i guess anxious is the better word.

the anxiety is increased given that my mother has been out of work all week because they’ve had trouble regulating her blood sugar and so she’s been really sick and even said so herself she’ll probably end up in the er over the weekend because she doesn’t think she can make it till her next doc appt because she’s miserable, and she’s already been in the er once when this weird shit started happening a month or so ago so the Vacation Curse has me even more concerned than usual, which is saying something. 

there’s a new psych doc working now and everyone is really unsettled by him and we’re pretty sure he’s a genuine psychopath like completely without exaggeration and he’s already done a lot of really creepy things to/with staff members and one nurse said in passing “i’ve known a lot of doctors like him he’ll end up fucking a pt at some point” which we initially left to hyperbole but he’s been doing shit like transporting female pts to other units without the staff’s consent in his own car which is like all kinds of not allowed, and the way he talks to some of the staff is just downright rapey honestly. and so we had a rough case this summer who, through the combined efforts of my squad, we got her from a diagnosis of intellectual disability with schizophrenia, nonverbal, self harming all the time, history of physical and sexual abuse, constantly in restraints and on a 1:1 obs level to a new diagnosis of autism spec with ptsd because her “hallucinations” were /flashbacks/ and she ended up very social and verbose and like fucking read william blake for fun and had a great sense of humor and was off all special observations and had a transfer to another facility pending so she could get more 1:1 long term therapy, and the creepy doctor was covering her case while her actual doc was out of town and he rode all the way to the other hospital with her which is another thing you do not do, and we found out from a coworker that she is now a /2:1/ [two staff members within arm’s reach 24/7], self harming again, in full shutdown/meltdown mode, and nonverbal. and it was such a rapid deterioration that all of us lost sleep over the possibility that this creepy doctor might have done something because even after she was at the other hospital and therefore no longer our pt, /he kept going to see her/. which fucked us up a lot because we were the ones who worked so hard for so long with her. like even the thought of it.

recently had 25th birthday so naturally had a crisis about that because i’d always said my goal was to be out of memphis by 25 and yet here we are. 

another of our fave pts, esp one of /my/ fave pts, died out of literally nowhere. the day before my birthday. so that was great.

also felt really surreal to see the news about the convictions in the holly bobo case, which i found out about when one of my coworkers was reading the news on his phone during a lull one night i forgot that to him and everyone else it’s a national news story [hell it even has its own wikpedia page] but to me it’s just /holly/ because she was /in the class above me in our nursing program/. my first semester in college i remember seeing her face on missing posters on every building on campus. so it was really a weird moment of dissociation for me. glad the motherfucker was found guilty on all charges, obv. 

the tech of mine who got his skull slammed into the floor, the one who’s been out with what can only be called severe psychological trauma, is supposed to be coming back the third week in october. which i just. i mean i’m glad because he’s one of our best guys, but i’m also like /why the fuck would he come back/ because he could be a fucking english professor again. motherfucker spent part of his youth growing up in italy and montreal, lived on the west coast for years, /was/ a college professor, did time as a script doctor in LA, and was a fucking thriller novelist who just gone girled himself for whatever reason and ended up working with us. there’s literally a reddit thread asking if anyone knows what happened to him and i want to be like don’t worry it’s fine he works with me. but so we’re like why would you come back to this place after what happened to you when you have so many other options available to you????? what are you running from that makes you so desperate to keep centering your life around a locked acute psych ward???? why did you gone girl yourself to begin with??? like he was screwed up enough there for a while that he wasn’t even answering his calls or texts and our boss had to send the police to do welfare checks on him because he lives alone so it’s like man why not go back to the life you had before and /get away from all of this/ it’s not like my situation where i’d rather be living a different life but have never done so, he already has the foundation because he’s already lived a different life he has an in that i don’t have and i can’t for the life of me figure out why he thinks working as an acute pysch tech is the better option. 

but i mean. we /do/ call our unit the hotel california for a reason.

[rickhorrow]

10 TO WATCH : 31819

RICK HORROW’S 10 TO WATCH : MAYORS EDITION

FOR THE WEEK OF MARCH 18

This week, we finally march into the Madness…with bets in hand. Last May, the U.S. Supreme Court overturned the federal law that previously withheld legal sportsbooks to Nevada. According to Bloomberg, seven more states have now begun to allow betting, and a couple dozen others are considering to follow suit. Nationwide, operators’ gambling revenue could reach $6.5 billion by 2023, and bettors in New Jersey, where legalization arrived last June, are already wagering almost $400 million every month. Tens of millions of Americans who otherwise rarely bet on sports will fill out a March Madness bracket and put down $10 or $20 to enter a pool with friends or co-workers. This is where Action Network wants to convert these casual bettors into regular customers. Action Network offers detailed previews of each game, ranks which underdog teams are likely to make a deep run, and provides a service that will fill out brackets with optimized picks based on the number of entrants in a pool. Action Network says it’s averaged almost two million unique visitors per month over the past three months. If other sports betting companies can capitalize on mega events like March Madness, they too will bring in new fans to sports betting.

March Madness is a big stage for student athletes. It’s also a major opportunity for brands like Unilever. This year, Unilever's Dove Men+Care partnered with menswear designer Don C. on a line of limited-edition jerseys that celebrate college basketball rivalries, according to the company. The first March Madness jersey will pay homage to the Tobacco Road rivalry of North Carolina college basketball. Two other jerseys will roll out during March, and each vintage-inspired item blends elements of the featured teams' heritage and culture. Consumers can follow the conversation on the Dove Men+Care website or by searching the hashtag #ReptheRivalry on social media. Dove Men+Care also partnered with past basketball rivals, including former Duke University player Jay Williams and the University of North Carolina's Antawn Jamison, to inspire fans to #ReptheRivalry. The former players will wear the jerseys as part of the campaign. Another cool feature: the jerseys will be "dropped in surprise locations,” and available exclusively to rival fans and former opponents in the rivalries' markets.

This year, March Madness could cost employers over $13 billion. According to the annual study done by global outplacement and executive coaching firm Challenger, Gray & Christmas, Inc., every hour spent on games can cost employers $2.1 billion, for a total of $13.3 billion over the length of the tournament that will end with the NCAA National Championship game on April 8. Research done by staffing firm Office Team indicates that workers spent an average of 25.5 minutes of their workday on March Madness-related activities. And a survey by TSheets and QuickBooks showed that at least 48% of people participating in March Madness won their brackets during work hours. However, the basketball tournament can foster a little excitement among coworkers. “Streaming games during work hours, heading to a local restaurant to watch the games, filling out brackets or just discussing the games with co-workers will mean hours of distractions during the three-week tournament,” said Andrew Challenger, Vice President.  But Challenger adds that employers should use the tournament games to build morale and not restrict employees. About 97 million people watched March Madness games last year, according to CBS – tens of millions of them during work hours.

The Raiders are officially staying in Oakland for the 2019 season thanks to a stadium lease extension. The Oakland-Alameda Coliseum Stadium Authority board at its latest meeting last Friday "voted unanimously to approve" the Raiders' lease extension at the venue for the 2019 season. The Raiders, according to the San Jose Mercury News, will pay $7.5 million, plus $750,000 they owe from "previous parking fees." The team "pays $525,000 for the practice facility and is allowed to continue using it for 36 months after relocating to Las Vegas." The agreement also includes an "option to stay" for the 2020 season in case the Raiders’ new $1.84 billion, 62,228-seat stadium in Las Vegas "isn’t ready next year." The deal comes on the heels of the latest proposal by fellow Coliseum tenants, MLB’s Oakland A’s, to build a new mixed use stadium on the Oakland waterfront that includes 3,000 housing units, with another 3,000 to be built on the current Oakland Coliseum site.

After a change in venue and some heavy investment from IMG, the Miami Open hopes to regain its premier status within tennis. Of late, the longstanding tournament has fallen behind the likes of the BNP Paribas Open in Indian Wells, the winner of tennis’ Tournament of the Year award every year since 2014. Now, with former top player James Blake in his second year as Miami Open tournament director and the relocation to Hard Rock Stadium in Miami Gardens complete, the time is right for a revival. The Dolphins’ home was secured as the tournament’s new site by IMG after expansion plans at Key Biscayne were shuttered. The new venue sees its prime matches played on a 14,000-seat show court within the main stadium, with 29 additional new match and practice courts adjacent. Hard Rock also offers commercial upgrades on parking, hospitality, and fan engagement. IMG has invested $60 million in the ‘"festivalization" of the event, with as much as $10 million from the budget also reserved to renovate Crandon Park. With a new location and a new vision, Blake and his staff are looking to return the Miami Open to marquee status.

Members of the U.S. women's national soccer team have filed a gender discrimination lawsuit against U.S. Soccer. 28 players accused the federation of paying them far less and subjecting them to far worse working conditions, comprising travel, medical treatment, and field quality, than their male counterparts. It also "brings to the fore an issue that affects all women's sports, not just soccer,” as the New York Times noted. The suit has a precedent. After threatening to boycott the world championships in 2017, the U.S. women's hockey team received a new contract that paid each player more than $71,000 annually, a huge increase over the roughly $10,000 on average they had been making, along with travel accommodations and insurance coverage on par with the men's national team. "We feel a responsibility not only to stand up for what we know we deserve as athletes, but also for what we know is right," said USWNT co-captain Megan Rapinoe. This issue now becomes the dominant storyline leading up to the Women's World Cup, kicking off in June.

The Oklahoma City Thunder have signed a jersey patch sponsorship with Love’s Travel Stops & Country Stores, a deal that now puts jersey patches on all 30 NBA teams. Terms of the deal were not disclosed, but Oklahoma City-based Love’s is a longtime Thunder sponsor. The team premiered the patch over the weekend during a home loss against the Warriors. Other elements of the patch deal include media and social media as well as a community service component. Love’s Travel Stops counts about 500 retail locations in 42 states across the U.S. The family held company has also invested in sports sponsorships including NASCAR – Michael McDowell’s No. 34 Ford Fusion, Minor League Baseball, and collegiate teams. The Love family is worth $7.3 billion, according to Forbes. Overall, the NBA’s 30 different jersey patch deals have been estimated to average $9.3 million annually, with top ranked, big market teams obviously commanding a bigger price tag.

Minnesota Twins roll out monthly passes to fix 2018 attendance dip. According to SportsPro, the new “Twins Pass” initiative will allow fans to gain entry to the team’s Target Field for as little as $49 per month without a designated seat. What this means is that fans wanting a regular seat at the 39,500-capacity venue can pay $99 each month for a vantage point in the upper level, or a monthly $149 for a perch in the ballpark’s lower level. Fans wanting to watch the game with friends or family signed up to the same package can link their tickets using a “sit with friends” function built into the platform which is managed through the MLB Ballpark app. Following in the footsteps of the NBA champion Golden State Warriors, who last year introduced a first-of-its-kind “In the Building Pass,” the Twins are the latest U.S. sports franchise to roll out a monthly ticket offering. As stadiums are becoming smaller and OTT platforms are created, sports team are going to be forced to continually renovate their strategies to bring fans to live events.

ESPN is set to launch its own collegiate video game sports championship. According to Reuters, ESPN will hold its first-ever college championship for competitive video gaming later this May in Houston, where players will compete in five games: Overwatch, Hearthstone, StarCraft II, Heroes of the Storm, and Street Fighter V: Arcade Edition. College-level esports have been part of the sports overall expansion in recent years with colleges developing their own competitive teams as they would for traditional sports. Players will come from hundreds of North American schools that are currently competing in qualifying matches with portions of the qualifying rounds, as well as the championship, to be streamed globally. The Overwatch championship matches will even be streamed on Twitch – this offers a whole new opportunity for advertisers to capitalize in the bursting esports sector.

The Washington Capitals’ Go Green night raises $62,625 for charity. Monumental Sports & Entertainment’s foundation held the event for the Anacostia Watershed Society and the Washington Youth Garden. The auction featured autographed, limited edition green jerseys worn during the pregame warmups, autographed sticks wrapped with green tape, and autographed green Capitals pucks. According to nhl.com, T.J. Oshie's warmup jersey went for the highest bid at $3,750, followed by a team puck set at $3,200. The mission of the Anacostia Watershed Society is to protect and restore the Anacostia River while Washington Youth Garden nurtures curious minds and healthy bodies by connecting youth to food, the land and each other. Combining the spirit of St. Patrick’s Day with a charity movement is exactly what other NHL franchises should be doing to better demonstrate their charitable arm to the public while engaging fans at a higher rate.

[therunningpa]

New job & night shift novella

So I’ve been at a new job the past 6 weeks. I’m still a hospitalist, but I’ve moved to night shift. It’s a long story for another time, but basically I was getting burned out and it was either change shifts or move to a different department altogether. Because I love IM so much I am desperately clinging to it for the time being. In my current role, I only do new admissions and consults.

Since I only post now, like, once a year I figured I might as well write a nice long story for you guys! Because also, when have I kept things short, ever?

So, here you go, a narrative of my day (night?).

I leave my house, clutching my tote of Campbell’s Double Noodle soup cans, rice crackers, and Gatorade. I kiss my husband, tell him I love him, and remind him to please finish cleaning the kitchen for me. He needs a lot of reminding. I need a lot of therapy. We’ve had a lot of therapy. It’s been a year sober for him and the anniversary has been hard, bringing back the guilt big time. It’s been more down days than usual the past month and as I leave the house I can only hope I won’t get any liver patients or alcoholics tonight.

I pull in to the hospital, badge in through various doors, end up in the office. The day shift is coming to a close. “Hey!” my coworkers greet me, “Feeling better?”

“Tons! Not a hundred percent but good enough for active duty.”

My terrible med seeking external ED dump patient from earlier this week had given me her norovirus. I’d spent the previous night out sick, puking and near-syncopizing. (FYI- use the bleach wipes next time!!)

I check in with the three physicians I’m working with that night. One, a seasoned night shifter, a quiet man I dub “The Machine” because of his deftness and ease at admitting patients. One, a seasoned nocturnist, another quiet and confident man who could run a thousand codes without screaming “fuck!” not even once. The third, an exceedingly nice new residency graduate who recently started with us and is probably reconsidering the job after his first week on nights. They have a lot of patients coming from outlying facilities, but no one arrived yet.

I sit around for an hour and a half, check emails, clear my inbox of the previous day’s results and check up on a few of those patients, eat a cup of noodles, rub my belly, think about how I shouldn’t have had coffee, then, all at once, I have 3 admissions I’m called to see. Yes, it’s true, they really all do come at once.

I triage them, and go see first an unfortunate lady who is bleeding and clotting. Or rather, likely to bleed. She has a genetic disorder predisposing her to clots and bleeding, and has come in with chest pain. The chest CT showed a pulmonary embolism, one in each lung. I’d hoped they’d be subsegmental, but they weren’t. I meet with her, spend a long time talking. I tell her I’ll call the hematologist and get back to her. I put out a page.

I jump up to the orthopedics floor to see my next patient, a 73 year old lady with COPD and osteoporosis who fell down the stairs at home and probably broke her sacrum. She’s straightforward enough, other than saying she’s intolerant to everything IV opioid except fentanyl. Which she’s not going to get outside of the ED. I write for oxycodone and IV ketorolac and pray her pending labs show normal renal function.

The hematologist pages me while I’m writing patient 2′s note. He recommends a heparin drip, so it can be turned off quickly if patient 1 starts to bleed. He also says he has no idea what to do with her after that, as far as a long term plan. I text my attending and let him know the plan for tonight. While I’m finishing my note, he texts me back an SOS that patient 1 is refusing heparin because she’s afraid of bleeding.

I go back to the ED, I print out UpToDate, visit the poor lady with the PEs again. I talk about risks and benefits, types of heparin. She has some cognitive impairments from a stroke, but she gets it enough that she has capacity. She still declines the heparin, wants us to “watch her” overnight in the hospital though. I check in with bed control, ask for an IMCU bed since she’s refusing blood thinners, and am told there are no ICU beds left. She’ll have to go to the regular floor.

My third patient is a prisoner with history of peptic ulcers and GI bleed coming in with worsening anemia. Actually, he never shows up from the outside hospital because of some officer conflict. His name gets handed off to the next shift.

Fourth patient shows up in the IMCU, from an outside hospital. The notes he comes with are scanty. Acute on chronic hyponatremia, ?dementia. Hypotensive. Weak. I hope he can give me some history. When I walk in he tells me he’s in a hotel in a different state and doesn’t remember how he got here. He denies any symptoms or concerns. It’s 11 pm, but I dial his elderly wife and bless her, she’s up, and gives me the full scoop. He ends up with a slew of labs, head CT, cardiac echocardiogram.

Fifth patient was not supposed to be admitted. Just discharged 2 days ago with COPD flare, end stage COPD on home oxygen. I read the ED notes in the chart, indicating the family demanded the patient be admitted because they are unhappy and that we are being investigated for discharging her too soon, or was it the nursing home was being investigated for not taking care of her the past 2 days? Or both? The discharge summary from my PA colleague indicates the patient refused hospice the last stay. Awww nawwww. I go and see her. It’s late and at least that means the angry family has gone away. I sit with the patient, she’s very anxious, I’ve taken care of her before. I listen for a long time, answer questions, sometimes the same question over and over. She eventually admits her memory ain’t so good anymore. She then marvels “you’ve asked me more questions than anyone else has today”. I hope that’s a good thing. I go through her extensive workup and again conclude that “I am so sorry, but what you have is not fixable. I think we need to focus on trying to get your symptoms better, but we can’t cure you”. She agrees to at least have a palliative care consult. She grumbles about her bad nursing home experience and says her family called to have the bed held for the following day. I waggle my eyebrows at her “You know, if you don’t hold the bed they’ll give it up and then you’ll have to be here through the weekend and then we can see if your preferred nursing home has a spot now, But, you didn’t hear that from me!” She beams. Somewhere, a social worker has rolled over in their grave and pledges to haunt me in my dreams tonight.

I run up to my office again and eat some more noodles, drink Gatorade, rub my gastroparetic-feeling tummy, and finish up my notes just as one of the physicians strides in with a cardiology consult for a patient who just had a STEMI, now in the coronary ICU. They were found to have multivessel coronary artery disease, received a stent. “Should be easy” he says, “Cardiology has done everything!”.

Except, they haven’t. Patient is from outside our system. Needs an entire medical record update. I also notice his blood sugar is > 300 and there’s no insulin ordered. I add “Type 2 Diabetes” to his problem list. I go in and see him, expecting him to be asleep at 1:30 in the morning, but he is wide awake and surrounded by family. He’s a good soul, we have a long talk about diabetes. His wife has a lot of cardiac questions and try to answer as able. His nurse pops in. “His blood pressure is greater than 150 and they want him under that post cath. There’s no medications ordered”. I step out, sigh. Honestly, I have no idea what cardiology does or does not want for an antihypertensive in their post cath patient. I have a sneaking suspicion it also varies widely by the cardiologist. I wish they would order this shit on their people already. I’m just here for the diabeet-us. Gah! 

“What do they usually do for the post cath protocol?” I wonder out loud.

“How about some PO metropolol?” a nurse asks.

I make a face “Really? They do that?”

The nurse looks horrified “Um, yeah, all MIs should be getting that!”

I shake my head “No, I know that, that’s not what I meant, I just mean it’s not going to act rapidly and it’s not going to do much, I mean maybe IV metoprolol but-”

She looks further horrified “No, they never do IV!”

I wanted to say “but I would never give that”, finishing my thought, but instead I shrug and give up. “I’ll ask the attending.” 

I don’t work in the ICUs that often, and I especially don’t know the night crew being new at this job. It’s true what they say, sometimes you need to earn your stripes with some ICU staff, especially if you’re a PA. Also, goddammit cardiology, order your antihypertensives! And beta blockers! And statins! (Also, I love you my cardiology people out there, please don’t take my 2 AM thoughts too seriously to heart, ok?)

I trudge back to my office, finish writing notes and checking labs and imaging that have come back. The demented hyponatremic guy does not have a brain bleed. The COPD flare bounce back has a normal procalcitonin. The untreated PE has normal blood pressures. Broken sacrum indeed does have normal renal function. I order new labs for the day crew. I report out to my docs. Around 3:30 AM I hang up my coat, collect my soup and Gatorade cans to recycle, and stumble out the cold wintry parking garage. I cast a few glances, good, no creepers trolling about, get in my car, and drive home.

I drive through the industrial part of the city and through spotlights and fog I see that the operations are already going at this ungodly hour. Backstreet Boys is playing on the radio. I pull into the back alley outside my house. I tentatively feel my way through the backyard, trying not to fall on my ass on the ice over our sidewalk, like I did the other night. I slip inside, and am completely delighted to see that not only has the kitchen been cleaned but there’s a loaf of homemade banana bread sitting out, steaming a little still. I hear a soft pitter-patter and my puppy steals down the stairwell to greet me. She wiggles from head to toe and jumps on me, playfully stealing my lanyard of keys and running away, shaking them. I took her home one day from a rescue this past summer, pretty much against my husband’s will, and I secretly believe she at least 75% the reason his depression lifted. He now agrees. I let her out to pee, then tread upstairs and wash my face and put on my pajamas, kiss my sleeping husband. I’m too wired to sleep though, maybe because I spent the last day and a half sleeping off the norovirus, so I go back downstairs, eat some banana bread, and start to write.

[ecotone99]

[SF] Outside

It was a roll of the dice that changed the world, heralding the end of what we'd lovingly call the Last Great Era. As far as our best minds can tell, had the genetic sequence finished A-G-T instead of G-A-T then SARS-CoV-2, the Coronavirus -- covy to the likes of you and me -- would have gone down in the history books as nothing more than an unexplained and short-lived lethargy observed in populations of domesticated pig.

From where I'm sat on my formafoam couch, staring blankly at a wall-filling Standard Display that's doing it's best to convince me I'm in the Austrian Alps, it's pretty clear that at some point, one-hundred and fifty-six years ago, God decided to try his hand at playing dice.

My job feed terminal chimes a flutter of cheerful bells that have no doubt been crafted to coax a dopamine response from whoever hears it. The irony isn’t lost on me as I drag its screen towards me, the articulating tube that it’s mounted to squeaking in a way that sets my teeth on edge. The chimes are somewhat discordant with the work that’s on offer. Data cleaning. Three petabytes; immediate start.

It’s the kind of grunt work I’ve come to expect and I’m used to it now. I figure it’s pretty much what the old sanitation workers used to do back in the Great. Y’know, those guys and girls who cleaned the streets. But instead of cleaning up after someone who couldn’t be bothered to find an appropriate refuse point, I’m cleaning up after a group of Domain dev-heads who couldn’t be bothered to dee-com their redundant broadcast nodes.

I know what it’s going to be: four hours of gloves-on, elbow-deep groping through the Domain’s equivalent of a corporation's asshole. If I’m lucky, I’ll spot the nodes that are tainting the rest of the data and filter them out with one or two partial intelligences I’ve got hanging around that just love this kinda work.

I reach over to the job terminal keyboard, worn predictably blank by too many keystrokes and even more routine. I click accept.

Did they know? Back in the Great? When this all started? I’ve watched pretty much everything the 21st century had to offer. News bulletins, parliamentary debates, documentaries, exposé’s, talk shows, comedies. You name it. Hell, I even watched a bunch of Domain advertisements to try and gauge sentiment. I’ve run them through every iteration and permutation of socioeconomic simulation I can imagine. I even managed to call, well, trade in a favour and run my sims on the tertiary adjunct to my local unimatrix. That's big boy's toys. Cost me almost eight minutes to tell me what I already knew.

But did they know it would lead to this? The real people of the time. It’s a splinter. A piece of grit under the skin, whatever that feels like. No matter how many times I run the sims, no matter how many trillion facets of life I emulate; no matter how mundanely accurate I try to model things, they will always be just that. Models. Simulations. Eerily accurate approximations of what went before, but approximations nonetheless. I’ll never, truly know what it felt like to be there. To feel the tug of history all around you. Feel the weight of the machine of State grind its massive gears whilst being helpless to resist. The fear. The hope. The isolation.

The Outside.

That infinite blue sky. The endless chatter of birds. The smell of so much green. It’s a drug. One that we can’t live without; one that we can’t live within. When covy hit, the industrialised world was slow to respond. But eventually reality won out around the globe, and even the most orange-faced effluent-geysers couldn’t pass off the rising body count as ‘fake news’. So we went indoors. And there we stayed for what must have seemed like an eternity at the time but was, in retrospect, a three month weekend compared to what came next.

Well, if I was being accurate I’d say ‘what three things came next’. And since I’ve got enough EdMerits to make me a social scientist, and the fact I spend most of my life in a windowless box with roughly 50 square metres of floor space, I’m going to be accurate. Humour my inner, failed, academic if you will:

Firstly, and best I can tell, the people’s imagination was captured when an innocent post from an emissions monitoring company posted about how much the air pollution had dropped over mainland China since their lockdown. I mean, it's fine now, but back then the state of the environment had people worried. I guess this is the part where some commentators call it things like zeitgeist.

Second thing was the Great Ingress of 2020 and the subsequent transformation of all commercial activities to Domain-compatible. Everything went digital after covy, fuelled by the primitive proxies for presence that folk back then put up with; flat, low quality streams and pathetic audio. Apparently all we needed to do was see a smile and that made the world feel just right.

And finally covy’s mutation, bifurcation and subsequent mutations. This was the kicker. With the combined brainpower and focus of the entire freaking planet, we were churning out vaccines and antigens faster than ever before and solving a whole bunch of other, minor problems along the way. Like Ebola, HIV and even the common cold all fell to the medical onslaught. But covy? Nah. Every time we knocked her down three more of her would get up and start swinging back.

My terminal gives me another hope-filled chime, breaking my brood to tell me I’m halfway through my job download and I’ll be able to start working in ‘less than five minutes’. Another irony that’s not lost on me. Time is what I’m working for. One of the more subtle changes that worked their way in since the Great. I’ve read a bunch of lit’ from back then, too. Time is money they used to say. But they got the emphasis wrong. Time is money. It’s the ultimate currency and the cheapest commodity; everybody’s got some to give. Over the years it surpassed every other natural or manufactured resource to become the lifeblood of our metastasized economic system. But I, and a couple billion others spend our time gladly to get some outside.

Outside.

They took it for granted back then. Couldn’t they see? The gradual restrictions in movement. Why didn't they resist? The control over who you can meet. They could have stopped this. Forcing you to communicate digitally. Reducing the places you can go to. Controlling what you can buy and how much. Even taking on the job of paying you for your work. It was the largest coordinated peacetime high jacking of a civilization in history. But they did it with some serious freaking deftness. I’m talking a subtlety of manoeuvring that’d make an Icer weep. And those guys don’t make face salt easy. I mean the sharing of resources is one thing. Yeah, we’re all people under one banner and that kind of crap. International cooperation must have been a huge morale boost to the cats getting used to their cages. And when the third strain came out and we gladly, globally signed off on consolidating national powers, oversight and coordination to an international body, well the United Nations would have looked like the perfect fit.

Desperate times, I guess. And no one back then could have seen the fifty years of misdirection and positioning that had taken place, infiltrating what should have been the highest, most benevolent authority we had. So we handed them the keys and a full tank of gas. And a century and a half later, I’m sitting here in a thermosteel block called 'home' a mile off the ground with around twenty thousand other gen-pops trying to scratch out a living for… For what? A slightly larger box near the ground floor, where you get real outside breeze? Maybe I’ll get a Workers Union promotion and move to a whole new tower, even. Or stay here and save some more. What was it they used to say? ‘Do some travelling’. Ha!

I bring up the job details, my fingers navigating the screen subconsciously. I select the title and expand the details. Data cleaning required for three petabyte facility management control system. Blah. Alphabet Enterprises. has a fantastic opportunity. Blah; everything’s AE in this part of the world. I keep scrolling, listening to the emulated ambience of the alpine sublime about me, my eyes absently searching for the paragraph I’m looking for.

Remuneration: 00:18:00

Eighteen minutes. Of pure outside. To spend how I like. And I can take it in advance. If I add that to the two hours thirty I’ve tucked away over the past couple of months then I may just have enough...

I switch my attention from the terminal to the Standard Display. It senses my intent and brings up a chat box with my most recently contacted first. I scroll down a little past the recent work-related calls I’ve had to make until I see a name and user id that’s almost as familiar as seeing a face. Nervous, I open a line, speaking to the room and letting the chat intelligence do the whole talk-to-type thing; speaking and writing are different things, and will always be it seems. I sound like me, but it’s not how I speak.

Things have changed. Just got some time. Let's go for a walk. Now.

I send the message. It’s abrupt, I know. But real walks are. And I don’t have a huge amount of time to play with. I know I’m gonna have to split the time between the two of us if I’m to even have a chance of executing my plan. But that’s why I saved. That’s why I spent all these months wallowing in the crud. All for this. Now is the time.

Before I let my doubts get the best of me, I look down at the antique, silver-and-diamond ring nestled in the cushion of an old, threadbare velvet case. Allowing myself a rare smile of something that feels more genuine and real and meaningful than anything in this world, I send a follow-up:

Don’t worry, babe. The walk’s on me.

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[dailykhaleej]

Wall Street traders adapt to working from home as business booms

A person cleans up on the buying and selling flooring, following traders testing optimistic for Coronavirus illness (COVID-19), on the New York Inventory Alternate (NYSE) in New York, U.S., March 19, 2020.

Lucas Jackson | Reuters

There was appreciable trepidation amongst buying and selling desks over the weekend as many in California, New York, and Massachusetts had been informed to begin buying and selling from home. 

The 2 predominant issues: Would the know-how work and would traders give you the option to successfully work together with one another and their shoppers?

For essentially the most half, it seems traders are adapting. 

“Ninety-three % of our workers has been buying and selling at home for the final week and a half, and 98% are totally useful,” mentioned Steve Starker, who runs BTIG, one of many bigger institutionally-focused buying and selling desks.  He too was calling from his home.

Starker, who had been getting ready to have his workers work from home for weeks, mentioned the know-how is working superb.  The most important concern:  Broadband capability on the web with so many working at home. However there have been no interruptions. 

What concerning the means to talk amongst traders and shoppers? 

“We’ve got prompt messenger providers, now we have WebEx, now we have Zoom, however we even have our hoot,” he mentioned referring to the squawk field that traders use to talk with one another on buying and selling desks. 

Starker mentioned he has one hoot that connects to all 16 of his traders concurrently, and one other world hoot that concurrently connects to all of the gross sales individuals within the U.S. and Europe.

“Individuals are making extra of an effort to talk by way of voice” utilizing the hoots, he mentioned.

 For Starker and different Wall Street buying and selling corporations, it helps that fairness volumes have doubled up to now month, vastly growing the necessity for Starker’s model of customized, high-touch buying and selling.

“Our business is up 50%,” he mentioned.

Identical ‘juice’

Even traders exterior the principle facilities in New York, San Francisco, and Boston are shifting their individuals to work from home.

Jack Miller is the pinnacle of buying and selling at Baird, a privately held agency that provides wealth administration, funding banking, and analysis. Half of Baird’s buying and selling workers is in Milwaukee,  and many of the different half are in New York.

“Sixty % of our traders are working from home, up from nothing two weeks in the past,” he mentioned, calling from his home in Milwaukee.  “Three weeks in the past we had been speaking about whether or not it was even possible.” 

They too had been anxious {that a} home setup wouldn’t have the “juice,”  or the reliability to deal with the visitors in home methods. However for essentially the most half, that has not been a difficulty.

Communication between traders has additionally been higher than feared. “Apart from standing up and yelling throughout the room, it is the identical as earlier than,” Miller mentioned, noting Baird traders even have hoots, that enable them to talk with one another.

Traders, some in medical masks, work on the ground of the New York Inventory Alternate (NYSE) on March 20, 2020 in New York Metropolis. Buying and selling on the ground will quickly change into totally digital beginning on Monday to shield staff from spreading the coronavirus. The Dow fell over 500 factors on Friday as traders proceed to present issues over COVID-19.

Spencer Platt | Getty Photos

As for the New York Inventory Alternate, officers are grappling with when — and beneath what circumstances — to reopen the enduring buying and selling flooring, which stays quickly closed whereas buying and selling continues electronically.

 “We are going to re-open after we are assured we are able to maintain individuals protected and never add any further pressure on the medical group ,” New York Inventory Alternate President Stacey Cunningham mentioned in an e-mail this afternoon.

The scenario has been difficult as a result of a number of flooring traders have examined optimistic for coronavirus.  The NYSE has been urging these on the ground final week to self-quarantine.

One bit of fine information: The swap to all-electronic buying and selling seems to have gone easily.  Few if any technological glitches have been reported.

As for the ground group, whereas there was significantly nervousness going into floorless buying and selling, most appear to be adopting.

“I’m in entrance of a Mac pc, I’ve a big 27-inch display, I’ve my Bloomberg and my order administration system,” John Monaco of Wellington Shields mentioned in a cellphone name.  “I’m in a position to commerce off-floor, and I’m one of many lucky ones that isn’t missing for business.”

Lacking the ground

One other flooring dealer, Jonathan Corpina with Meridian Fairness Companions, famous the influence on the ground traders relied on what sort of business they had been doing.  Corpina has a mixture of business, together with broker-to-broker interactions which might be completed on the ground, a buy-side business the place they work together with hedge funds, pension funds, and mutual funds, and an choices business. 

 He mentioned his choices and buy-side business was doing superb buying and selling electronically, however his broker-to-broker business was extra restricted.

“I’ve been fielding calls from shoppers about sure order sorts they don’t usually have entry to, and there may be nonetheless the lacking element of the interplay with the ground brokers,” he mentioned in a phone interview.

Nonetheless, he too is buying and selling from home and like Monaco has a system for interacting with shoppers.  “The know-how is precisely the identical as we had on the ground, minus the hand held methods.”  The hand-held methods enabled broker-to-broker interactions. 

Like many flooring traders, Corpina believes that some mixture of testing and splitting up the buying and selling groups will seemingly allow the NYSE flooring to begin up and nonetheless present the well being safeguards everybody desires. 

The NYSE was already doing temperature assessments of everybody going into the constructing.  Corpina mentioned it will make sense to mix that with fast on-site coronavirus testing that might seemingly be obtainable within the subsequent few weeks. 

As for staffing, he famous he has a workers of 16 individuals on the ground.  “Possibly we might deliver 4 again” initially to get the ground up and working, and maintain the others off-site,” he mentioned.

Corpina, who has spent his complete profession on the ground, is raring to get again.  “I miss the buying and selling flooring setting and I am wanting ahead to getting again as quickly as attainable,” he mentioned.

The post Wall Street traders adapt to working from home as business booms appeared first on Daily Khaleej.

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