#Atrium Medical

[scottguy]

They're doing this because the sheer callous greed of an insanely profitable business still bilking the poor for their very last few dollars is a bad look.

That behavior is the kind of thing that makes people want Medicare for All or any singlepayer, NONPROFIT, cost-controlling system.

[ghost-of-a-dream-girl]

Vampiric vascular access PSA from your friendly neighbourhood fanfic writing medic: Where To Bite

For those of you who, like me, love to write/read this sad vampire (or indeed anyone who likes to write any vampire), there were just a couple of sexy little anatomy things that I wanted to highlight (purely for fun).

First: arteries vs veins - Arteries take blood at pressure generated by the left ventricle of the heart, hence the pulse, to tissues and organs. Veins are a low pressure system that take blood back to the heart (via all sorts of mechanisms like valves, suction pressure from inspiration, pressure gradients, etc). - The inherent not-quite-sexy risk to puncturing/bleeding from an artery (especially a big one) is the risk of clot formation and with that the risk that those clots travel (embolize) further down the artery. This can result in things like strokes or ischaemic limbs. - Major arteries have associated major veins running nearby them. - Because of pressure differences, arterial punctures can spurt blood out, whereas veins ooze. To drink from a vein you'd have to apply a little more suction, whereas drinking from an artery might be a bit more messy/squirty. - Sure, veins don't pulse in the way arteries do BUT the way that we find these big veins (without ultrasound) is via use of anatomical landmarks. Your fave vampire will likely know those landmarks. Durge will likely also know these landmarks...for other reasons.

The neck (the classic, and everyone's favourite) - One of the things we look for as part of a fluid status assessment/CVS exam is the JVP (jugular venous pressure), which reflects pressure changes in the right atrium. For this we look for the double waveform pulse on either side of the neck coming from the internal jugular vein. It's not really palpable in the way arterial pulses are, but it is visible in most people (especially at neck turned 45 degrees). - The internal jugular vein (IJV) AND the external jugular vein are the two chunky veins of the neck. The IJV in particular would be a good one to bite for the same reason it's often a favourite vein to use for central line insertion- it's large, superficial, and usually pretty straight in its course within the neck. - The carotids are the major arteries of the neck, sitting more in the midline and protected a bit by a muscle there (sternocleidomastoid).

The inner thigh (the smut writer's favourite) - Gods know that the femorals have been doing some heavy lifting in vampire smut fics. Given the fact that they are located on either side of the groin, any biting action there has the inference of a lot more physical intimacy. - Like the neck vessels, you have big arteries AND big veins in the femoral region too. You have the femoral arteries which lie again more in the centre (like the carotids), and you have the femoral veins which actually lie more medially (more towards the mid-line of the body, i.e further in on the groin). These then branch out. - For purposes of vampiric vascular access, the femoral veins would be just a bit easier to get into position wise, but they do run very close to the femoral arteries. Because of how anatomy and fat distribution works also worth mentioning that the femoral vein and artery also lie a little deeper, so would require a much deeper bite.

Peripheral pulses (for those little nibbles) - For a quick snack more peripherally, it's going to be much easier to chomp into a peripheral artery. Arteries have thicker, more muscular walls than veins and the more superficial veins get the flimsier they are (i.e would be bitches to try to puncture with fangs). - We often sample arterial blood by puncturing the radial arteries. The radial artery runs on the thumb side of the wrist, and is very easy to palpate! - One could also attempt the brachial arteries, which are just above the inside of either elbow. A little deeper, but still palpable. - For the more adventurous bloodsuckers, you could even go for the dorsalis pedis (top of the foot), or the posterior tibial (below and behind the innermost part of the ankle bone)! See below: Astarion sampling a little of that radial artery juice

Aftercare (for the bitten) - If you are biting an artery or big vein you will usually need to apply some pressure to stop the bleeding. - In terms of clotting, it depends on what magical properties you believe vampire spit has. If none, it generally takes a few minutes to stop bleeding with a bit of added pressure, but bigger puncture sites may take longer. - That said, all bleeding stops eventually in one way or another- just ask Durge. - Like always, after a big drink you may need to ask your cleric friend to help you out with a cheeky lesser restoration spell to stimulate erythropoeisis so you're not wandering around the Realms so deeply anaemic.

Happy biting, friends!

[pietropatrol]

The Love You Want (Part 2/2)

Read Part 1

Pietro Maximoff was a great teammate and a great "friends with benefits." That was, until you fell for him but he started to push you away. Now he was just a teammate with benefits. A charity gala put on by Tony causes tension between you and the speedster. Why is he so upset anyway?

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Warnings: sexual content, pining idiots, language, angst, past trauma, jealousy

Words: 3,359

The prestigious doctors Tony had wanted you to schmooze were an easy conversation for two reasons. 

One being you were a medical professional yourself. You were just a nurse practitioner in terms of your degree, but they were curious about how you used it in the field as an Avenger. Two, you were a walking medical miracle. 

The serum had made you not only able to let your body heal itself, but heal others. Though the latter was to a certain extent and you had learned that the hard way. 

The rule now was to stabilize with your powers if necessary, then treat medically until out of combat. Your powers could be depleted if you used them extensively on others, to the point your body is unable to heal yourself. 

Bucky slid up to your side with another drink after a few minutes. He inclined his head to you and you nodded in return. 

You would be okay… eventually. Would your heartache last for a few months? Yes. Pietro had been a fixation in your life for the last 2 years. You had never even entertained the thought of trying to be with someone else, officially or casually.

Why would you? You trusted no one outside of your team. At the rate it took to trust someone, it would be a decade before you’d be able to even try. You’d probably have to up your therapy sessions now too. 

When the band started up after their break, Bucky excused the pair of you and pulled you over to the dance floor. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly. 

You shrugged, trying to ignore the sting returning to your eyes. “I basically told him I loved him, and then I broke it off.” 

“Did he say anything?” 

“No, he didn’t seem to know what to say.” Your voice was tight. “And when he did, I kept spewing my feelings at him. Like if I didn’t get it all out it was going to eat me alive.” 

“And how do you feel now?” Bucky glanced over your shoulder, face neutral at whoever he made eye contact with. 

“Is it pathetic of me to feel empty? How could I become so dependent on him? After everything that’s happened to me?” 

Bucky’s gaze softened on you. “Y/N, you’re not pathetic. You love Pietro, and he isn’t your ex. It’s okay that you are attached to him.” 

You hummed in response, not knowing what else to say. 

“I am going to give you my observation, okay? Pietro loves you too.”

You started to disagree. 

Bucky shook his head. “He has been stalking you since the moment you came back out here. His eyes have not left you. I’ve been watching him circle this atrium, ignore his date, and try to approach you multiple times.” 

“I told you, he’s possessive.”

“Why would he be if he didn’t love you? Sure, some other men out there may be possessive without love, but I’ve seen how protective he is of you too. On missions, he’s not ever far from you. And, I bet if I start putting the moves on you again he’s going to stop being a scared-cat and finally come over here.” 

“I’m just that good in bed is all, he doesn’t want to lose that,” you joked, though the words sounded hollow to your ears. 

Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled you in closer as he dipped his heads towards you. 

You didn’t even have time to pull your head back as you were swept into the arms of Pietro and on the other side of the dance floor. 

Bucky gave you a look that was clearly an ‘I told you so’ and went back to the bar.

“I don’t share, Y/N. I’ve told you this,” Pietro growled and it made your knees weak. Why was him being a possessive asshole hot to you? 

“And I thought I told you it was best for us to end whatever this is?” You gave him a pointed look. 

“So you jump right on the next available teammate?” 

“Sure, that’s what that was,” you spat. “Bucky is my new fuck buddy.” 

Pietro paused from leading you around the dance floor and narrowed his eyes in on you, searching for something. 

You stuck your chin out at him and didn’t speak a word. He could be the one to determine if that was true or not. If that was what he thought of you, so be it. 

“I’m selfish,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been selfish with you and I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“Saying for everything would be an easy out, but you deserve more than that.” His hand delicately curled into your waist. Your instincts screamed to move closer to him, to create more contact.

“You can start with bringing my own personal nemesis to this event, and starving me beforehand. I can’t scarf down the hors d’oeuvres without worrying I am going to end up on the ‘don’t’ section of their ‘Do’s and Don’ts’ column,” you replied, throwing a glare at Sierra who was already glaring at you. 

“You may end up in that section anyway for stealing her date.” He grinned teasingly down at you and your heart raced. It felt friendly in a way it hadn’t been for a long time. 

“Her date actually stole me from mine, why do they always blame women for men’s actions?” You scowled.

“Are you really here with Barnes officially?” 

“I would ask you the same thing about Lineheart, but I saw you physically recoil from her.” You rose your eyebrows at him. 

He had the decency to appear a little bit guilty. “I’m sorry for bringing her to get a rise out of you. I now realize what a bad idea that was.” 

“Wow, an apology and confession.” 

“Are you really here with Barnes?” Pietro insisted on knowing. 

“Well considering you made it so I would not remember this event was coming up—”

“I’m only half-sorry for that. The second half that is, when I didn’t remind you. The initial distraction I am quite proud of.” He cocked his head at you, watching the heat spread up your neck and cheeks. 

You shook your head to clear your thoughts. “No, I’m not here with Bucky. He found me while I was avoiding you and offered to help make you jealous.”

The flash of relief was apparent in Pietro’s eyes. “Because it looked very convincing.”

“Well, that is part of our jobs some days. Acting convincing. You and I have done it many times before.” 

The pair of you had done a few undercover missions that required you to be a couple. It was usually the most fun you had doing a job. 

“Yeah, but I like to think it’s because we have something real going on too.” Pietro’s thumb started stroking your side, making it difficult to not melt into him.

“I’m sure it helped for you, as apparently you are terrible at acting. But it was all a show to make you jealous. Which is immature, I know. But fight fire with fire. It got the point across didn’t it?” 

“Were you jealous?” Pietro asked, spinning you around again. 

“Truthfully, no.” You frowned and he frowned back at you. “I was more hurt than anything, and then I knew you were trying to make me jealous so I was pissed off.”

“I’m an idiot.” 

“Why would you even want me to be jealous, Pietro? It’s not like I’ve been the one pushing you away,” you said sharply. 

Pietro sighed and pulled you off the dance floor. “Can we go talk somewhere more quiet? I’ve fucked up this all up, and I don’t want to cross our wires wrong anymore.” 

“Yeah, I know a place.” 

****

“How did you know about this?” Pietro glanced around the rooftop garden, empty and off limits for this event. 

“I attended a S.H.I.E.L.D. event here a lifetime ago.” You took a swig from the bottle of champagne you stole from the kitchen on the way. 

Last time you had been up here, your parents and ex were in attendance and everything was seemingly perfect. Your ex was still a secret hydra agent the whole time after all.

“I hope it was a happy time.” 

“If I forget all that happened after, sure,” you said with a small laugh and handed the bottle to Pietro, who graciously accepted. “Not that I would want too, completely,” you added quietly.

“Y/N,” he started, turning to face you. You still looked out over the city, unsure and scared of what was going to be said. “I wish I could take back this last year.” 

You sucked in a sharp breath as an ache started to spread across through your chest. 

“After I am almost died for the second time in my life, I got scared for many reasons. And I didn’t handle it well. Do you know why I got hurt?” 

You shook your head, not trusting your voice at that moment. 

“I hesitated between you and Wanda. It took me a day or two to figure that out. I was going for Wanda but then I saw a gun on you and I changed course.” 

“I would have been fine,” you assured him. “I was fine.” 

“Which scared me even more. I know you will be fine 99% of the time. But in that moment all I could think about was protecting you. That what if that time it was the 1% of the time you wouldn’t be fine?” 

“Unlikely, but I get that.” You turned to him and met his intense gaze. “There is a 75% chance you’ll be fine, but that 25% feels so much bigger.” 

Pietro nodded and continued, “In that moment, you became more of a priority than Wanda, and that scared me. It still scares me. She has been my priority since we were children, but you overroad that. It felt like I betrayed her.” 

“Is that why she’s been mad at me since then?” You frowned. It had been hard to lose the close relationship with Wanda while Pietro was also pushing you away. 

“No. She’s mad at your for not breaking it off with me after I started pushing you away. She thinks you deserved better.” 

“The both of you are terrible at communication,” you mused, and turned back to look over the city. 

“Which brings me to also why I’ve been ass.” Pietro took a deep breath. 

“An astronomical ass,” you agreed. 

“Astronomical, yes. What scares me the most is loving you and losing you.” Your gaze snapped back to him, dumbfounded. “I thought that if I just pushed you away enough, I would never have to risk feeling that. I tried to quit you cold turkey, but I’m selfish and can’t go a week without your touch. I’m so selfish that I don’t want—”

“Wait—” 

“To see you with any other man. I don’t want another man to even—” 

“Pietro, wait—” 

“touch or flirt with you. But I realize now, I was going to lose you even more if I pushed you away.  I love you and I hurt you, and I’m so—” 

You covered his mouth with your hand, stunning him into silence. “You love me?” 

His quirked an eyebrow at you and pulled your hand away from his mouth. “Yes, I love you. What little I had of you was the only thing keeping me sane. But it was also driving me insane. It was torture to leave you abruptly every time when all I wanted to do was burrow further into you and never leave.” 

A shudder ran up your spine and Pietro smirked. You were simultaneously relieved, joyful, and annoyed at the same time at that look. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” You smacked his shoulder. “When has pretending not to love someone ever worked? We’ve watched movies together where the hero hurts the love interest to protect them, and it doesn’t work.” 

“Well, those love interests weren’t also superheroes,” Pietro defended himself. 

“Do superheroes not also have feelings?” 

Pietro rolled his eyes. “Like you said, I’m an idiot.” 

“A fucking idiot,” you corrected. 

“You make me one, honestly,” he chuckled and reached out to caress your cheek.  “But it was more than a selfish decision too. Just so you know.” His thumbs brushed your cheek bones, leaving trails of tingling skin. “I got hurt and then you got hurt trying to help me. I thought pulling away would stop whatever we had going on and you would be safe if you were less inclined to save my ass.” 

“It was my decision to make!” you said, letting your annoyance penetrate every syllable. 

“Yes, but we didn’t know at the time that your powers can be drained. You may have been less likely to jump straight into a line of fire if I got hurt again.” 

“You’ve watched too many hero movies now that I think about it. So much so that you think like the hero. Doubting how stubborn the love interest is.” You narrowed your eyes at his amused expression. “Not realizing that as strongly as the hero feels for the love interest, the love interest feels just as much. That she would crawl through broken glass to save the hero.” 

“And I ask that you promise me not to, dragoste.” His hand slide onto the back of your neck and he pulled you flush to him. His heat welcome in the cool summer air. “It hurts me more to see you hurt because of me.” 

“Well, you’re going to have to learn to live without that promise.” You brushed your lips against his. “Would you make the same promise to me?” 

A rumble of disagreement vibrated in his chest and he held you tighter. “I can’t make that promise.” 

“Well, it appears we are at an impasse.” 

“Can we just agree not to get hurt as much as possible?” Pietro nuzzled into your neck, his hands skating down your spine. 

“I think I can try,” you snorted, tilting your head back to give him full access to you neck. 

“If you let me, I will love you with my whole being. I’ve been biting—” he nipped as the crook of your neck and you yelped. “—at the bit to do so for so long.” 

“I think the phrase is ‘champing at the bit’,” you breathlessly teased. “But I think I can be inclined to let you love me. Would you mind showing me?” 

Pietro pulled away momentarily, resulting in an annoyed grunt from you. 

“Were you going to let Barnes kiss you?” His eyes were dark and molten on yours. 

“If I said yes, you would get even more possessive and it’s kind of hot. But no, I was going to pull away when you intervened to keep me to yourself. Because I love you, Pietro.” 

“I can’t believe he was going to kiss you.” Pietro came back to your neck and his hands fiddled with the silk of your dress just above your ass. “And while you are painfully beautiful in your dress, I would much rather see you out of it.” 

****

Y/N Y/L/N CAUSING RIFT IN AVENGERS 

Tensions were high at last night’s Stark Industries gala. Y/N Y/L/N, a.k.a. Vitality, was seen to be getting extremely cozy with not only Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. Winter Soldier, but also Pietro Maximoff, a.k.a. Quicksilver. Our source says Y/L/N was all over Barnes at the beginning of the night until Maximoff almost came to blows with his teammate over her. How many more teammates has Y/L/N—

Your phone was ripped from your hands and tossed onto the nightstand. You looked up to see Pietro, only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and holding the morning’s provisions he had just gone in search of.

“Do not read that garbage,” he chided, “She’s going to be up your ass for a bit but she’ll get bored.” 

“She is not going to let this go anytime soon, Piet. You poked the proverbial bear by basically ghosting her.  And she saw us leave together!” 

“Everyone saw us leave together, because I wanted them to,” Pietro admitted and slid the plate over to you. It was an assortment of fruits and a couple of bagels. 

“Well you succeeded. I will avoid the internet for the foreseeable future. Your fangirls are going to have a field day with me,” you sighed and stifled a yawn. 

Pietro’s eyes tracked your movements and trailed to your bare backside. “I could get used to this.” 

“Used to what?” you played dumb, wanting to hear the answer. 

“You naked in our bed every morning.” 

You paused from grabbing a strawberry. “Our bed?” 

“You’re moving into my room,” he stated, sliding up over your back and ghosting his lips over your shoulder before he bit down at the base of your neck. 

You did you best not to gurgle in response. That spot always sent every nerve into a frenzy. 

“I will not spend another night or morning away from you, if I can help it,” he murmured and gripped your hip bones in his warm, skillful hands.

“Your moving this fast, huh Maximoff?” you tried to keep a level tone, but your voice still came out breathy as he pinned you further to mattress under his weight. 

“This,” he emphasized by pressing himself into your backside, letting you feel just what he meant, “has been going on for two years, dragoste. So not fast at all. Besides, some things don’t need to be fast. I can be quite good at taking things slow, as you know.” 

His teeth nibbled at you again. “I know all to well, you are torturously slow sometimes,” you panted. 

“You love the result though, no?” His lips began to trail down your back. 

You bit back a moan as he hiked your hips up, ass in the air. His fingers dancing dangerously over you clit. You tried to push again him, but he quickly held you in place.

“So eager, dragoste? It’s only been an hour.” 

You growled in frustration. “Wipe that smirk off your face, Pietro.” 

“You can’t even see my face,” he argued. 

“Oh, eat me.”

“Gladly,” he grinned, “after you answer my question.” 

“Of course,” you whined, aching from the teasing. 

“Good girl.”

His mouth was on you before you could even moan from being called a good girl. 

****

“Alright, who won?” Tony looked around to the team that had made it to the kitchen that morning. 

“Won what?” Nat asked.

“The bet.” 

“What bet?” 

“For how long it would take Pietro and Y/N to acknowledge their feelings and go public. I had 1 year since we placed the bet, we’re at 10 months since the bet.” Tony looked to Wanda, Steve, and Bruce. 

“You guys knew?” Nat gaped at them. 

“You didn’t?” Steve was shocked. “Nat, even I could see it.” 

“No, Steve knows only because he was unfortunate to walk in on them in the sparing room onetime. They did not notice,” Tony rolled eyes. 

“And you Bruce?” Nat asked, she couldn’t believe she’d not seen it.

“I was unfortunate to walk in on them in the med bay once after a missions, they did not notice.” Bruce grimaced. “I just needed a bandaid.” 

“All I needed to see was their constant fuck me eyes to know. It sometimes can come off as playful or antagonistic looks, but they may be one and the same for them.” Tony shrugged. 

“Well, I lost. I thought it would only take a month for them to work their shit out,” Wanda groaned. 

“I had six months, so that puts me four months off,” Steve sighed. 

“I had three months, I had more faith in them than I should have,” Bruce conceded.

“Well that makes me the winner. They are both stubborn idiots. What’s our next wager? When to expect a mini-avenger now that they are bound to be stupid-in-love idiots?” Tony teased. 

“Not funny, Stark,” Nat grunted.

***

REQUESTED TAGS: @fxllen0stxrs, @littlemarvelstan8, fandomenbylover

[wolfchanw]

I work in a specialty vet hospital. My job is to go over incoming animals' medical records and condense them down into about a one-page format for the vet to look over before we do an initial consultation with the pets. We also have a short survey that the owners fill out with basics like what they eat, what meds/supplements they are on, etc.

The most important question on that survey to me is "Does your pet have any previous illness or injury?" Yes, I'm looking at their medical record, but it's pretty common that I will have the main record and the pet is also seeing another specialist for another problem....so the owner survey might mention something like pemphigus, which they are managing at a dermatology office whose records I don't have. This is SUPER important as we may need to change up their medication protocol.

Today, I was going over a survey where the owner had answered "No" to the illness/injury question. This was puzzling as I knew we had received records from an oncologist.

As I read over the records, I can see that the dog has an aggressive cancerous tumor in his left atrium, and the cardiologist he just saw has stated that he is at risk for cardiac rupture.

YOU DIDN'T THINK THIS WAS IMPORTANT TO TELL THE VET YOU ARE ASKING TO ANESTHETIZE YOUR DOG?!

*Deep breath* If I'm being charitable, I'm going to assume that the owners were deeply distressed by this fairly recent diagnosis and weren't thinking clearly when filling out the survey. But I was confused, to say the least.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.42

Summary: While Wednesday is busy worrying about you, an unwelcome guests shows their face at the Addams Mansion. Wednesday is starting to wish you would lose your morals again.

Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: swearing, mentioned child abuse, racism against Outcasts, smut at the end (18+) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

The Addams Mansion was louder than usual with its new guests. Much to her surprise, Wednesday almost found it comforting. If you had asked her even just two years ago if she would have enjoyed the newfound sounds in the mansion, she would have thought the notion preposterous. Absurd even. Of course she wouldn’t have enjoyed the sounds, the mansion was her home. It was a sacred place that should be left untouched.

However, with your family around… at least they treated the old home as it deserved.

Even the youngest were respectful of the knick-knacks and artefacts around the mansion. They had only needed to be told once, and everything settled again. Sure, they would point out the ones they liked, but their hands stayed far away. Rooms that were off-limits to guests remained closed, and everyone was respectful of the… unusual habits of the Addams family.

The only one that remained unusual was you.

If Wednesday was being honest with herself, she was rather concerned about you. She hadn’t heard you say much after that night. By all accounts, you were more similar to Lurch in your communication; doing little more than grunting in acknowledgement of whatever was being said. You hadn’t even talked to Weems, who had shown up not even a day after the event to check on everyone. It was rather disturbing. And not in a good way.

At least there was an upside to the whole situation. Grandmama Addams had healed your arm with little more than a light scar over the skin. It was clearly a burn; that was impossible to erase. But there had been no need to go into a medical centre like the original EMT had mentioned. An Addams knew tricks no normie could comprehend.

There was nothing comfortable about talking about feelings, Wednesday knew all about that. She had trouble talking about her own, and you certainly felt the same. It didn’t take a genius to know that. But she wished you would talk with her. Share your thoughts, what you were feeling at the moment. Or at the very least what you were thinking for the past few weeks, seeing as you still had yet to tell her how you had known the house was going to catch fire.

“Would you pass the sugar, dear?” Mother asked you.

You grumbled and nodded once before pushing it over with your scarred hand. It was a stiff movement, and your brows moved ever so slightly at the effort. So, Wednesday thought, you weren’t entirely healed. You made no other indication of your discomfort and turned the page of your book.

“Daniel seemed quite interested in the atrium,” Mother continued. You hummed for her to continue. “He’s asked numerous times about specific plants.”

You still said nothing in return.

Mother looked at Wednesday over the lip of her teacup. If you wouldn’t even answer her small talk, how would they ever get you to speak? Even if you were having a small spat with Wednesday, you would always talk with Mother. Yet now, she was talking of your brother, and you wouldn’t even answer? It was borderline rude.

You were never rude to Mother.

“There you all are,” Weems said as she entered the reading room. “Everyone was a bit too quiet.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” Mother said with a smile.

She did just that. Even you looked up from your book for just long enough to watch Weems sit down with her own cup of tea. It seemed everyone was indulging in caffeine. Everyone except for you, that was. You had opted for nothing more than a glass of water that sat untouched on the small side table.

Everyone resumed their activities; Mother and Weems were talking, and you were reading. Wednesday had her own book in her lap, but the words eluded her. How could she focus on a book when she was so concerned about you? How could you focus on your book? Were you not going absolutely mad?

She needed you to be okay. There was very little she could do to help, but she needed you to be okay. Perhaps you wouldn’t talk with her, but that wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? No, she could survive you not talking about your worries with her, as long as you allowed her to attempt to help.

A word of advice from Yoko appeared in her head. She looked over at you and watched you for a moment. There was very little emotion on your face, but she noticed you blinking a little longer than normal every time your burned hand turned the page.

She gave herself no time to doubt herself before reaching over and grabbing your good hand. It stiffened, but when she linked her fingers with yours, you quickly relaxed. Before she looked back down at her book, she noticed the slightest pull at the corner of your mouth.

Good. That was progress.

Wednesday was acutely aware of Mother and Weems’ hesitation before continuing their conversation. It gave her an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach to know they were watching you both. Showing outward displays of affection was becoming less agonising, but there was something unsettling about knowing her mother and your mother figure were watching.

The prickling spiders were starting to crawl across her skin when something knocked on the front door. You didn’t look up, but Mother and Weems shared a look before Weems stood up from her chair.

“Shall I?” She asked even though she had already started walking toward the front door.

“Thank you,” Mother said with a small smile.

No one else paid any attention to what was happening. Everyone simply went back to what they were doing. What would it matter anyway? You were all aware that people only came to the Addams Mansion either based on a dare or had been invited.

“I don’t believe it’s wise for you to be here.”

Your attention was captured by Weems’ words. Wednesday would admit hers were too. There was a certain tone to the words, something that she didn’t think she had heard before. No, that wasn’t true, she had heard that warning tone before.

At Nevermore immediately after Nicky had died.

Wednesday’s mind was running rampant when you pulled your hand away from hers. There was almost no time for her to grab it again before you stood up. Mother sent a concerned look her way. It was a lucky thing Wednesday hadn’t had any tea, or she would have spilled it when she stood up.

Your body stiffened when you looked out the front door.

“I was hoping you would be here.”

That voice sent a shiver down every inch of Wednesday’s skin. By the slight shake in your hand, you felt the same. The closer she got, the more nervous she was. It was a complicated feeling for her. Very few things, and even fewer people, made her feel that way. She didn’t like it.

There was something comparable between your mother and hers. They both held themselves with confidence; something that you appeared to lack until you were in your mother’s presence again. However, there was a rather large difference between the two women.

Your mother always looked like she was out for blood.

“I was hoping to talk with you about something,” your mother said directly to you.

“I don’t believe that would-”

“-Alone,” she interrupted Weems with a venomous smile.

Very few people spoke to Weems in such a way, apparent by the way everyone stiffened at the harshness of the word. But that very reality was what seemed to get you out of whatever stupor you had drowned in. Behind you, your wings puffed up enough to make themselves known as you looked at Weems.

“I’ve got it,” you said in a soft yet confident voice. It was certainly a surprise to Wednesday, who had assumed you would sound weak after a large amount of silence.

Weems looked at you for another moment more. “Morticia and I will be in the study,” she finally said.

“As I said,” your mother said with the same sickening smile, “this is private.”

“Anything involving me involves Wednesday,” you said.

You and your mother stared at each other silently, and Wednesday felt like she was intruding on something. There was a history with you two that she knew very little about, but she knew enough. To stand there, watching your silent battle with nothing to say, was torture.

“Of course it does,” your mother finally said. She looked inside the mansion for a moment. “Won’t you be a dear and invite me in?”

“No.” You straightened back up and crossed your arms over your chest. “Say your piece and leave.”

Your mother opened her mouth to argue - she had stunning teeth, Wednesday noted - but quickly closed it once seeing the look on your face. Or rather, the lack of a look. Fear was the predominant look in your eyes when your parents were involved, but this? There was no reaction. You simply existed in her presence.

It was a wonderful look on you.

“Very well,” your mother finally said with a sigh. “I would like you to attend an event with me this weekend.”

“No,” you said quickly.

Your mother stood tall. “You will hear me out, Y/N.”

Fear flashed behind your eyes at the use of your full name.

“It’s a charity gala,” she continued. “For those with your…” she gestured vaguely between both you and Wednesday, “affliction.”

“We’re Outcasts,” you said, “not lepers.”

“Semantics, dear,” she said with a dismissive wave.

At that, you reached out and grabbed Wednesday’s hand. Hard. An ache spread through the bones of her hand as they were squeezed together unnaturally. The skin on your hand was tough, feeling closer to leather than skin. Truly a fascinating thing.

She squeezed your hand back to the best of her ability.

“After all the shit you’ve done, you want me to go with you to a gala?” You asked. “Just to make you look good?”

There was a red tint to your cheeks. Wednesday could hear all the words you weren’t saying. You killed my brother. You had me arrested. You abandoned me. Though she didn’t wish for a fight, she did wish for you to finally speak your mind. Let her know the hurt she had caused you all these years.

You didn’t continue.

“Your father is away, so you wouldn’t have to concern yourself with the restraining order,” your mother continued as if you were being nothing more than a petulant child.

“You’re not listening,” you said. “I’m not going.”

The tone underlying your words was all Wednesday needed to hear to know your next move. Your grip had loosened enough to ease the ache in her hand, but it stayed firm. Though she wouldn’t blame you, she knew you were done with the conversation. Nothing good could come from continuing to talk with your mother.

You turned around and started to pull Wednesday along with you.

“I heard about the fire,” your mother called after you.

You froze.

“Entire house burned to ash,” she continued. “A shame.” Your chest was heaving. “No longer having a home to call their own.”

The warmth of your hand in hers quickly disappeared as you turned on your heel. Wednesday’s feet stayed rooted to the spot even as she watched you walk up to your mother and stand over her. For the first time, she realised you were a decent amount taller than your mother. You could properly look down on her as she had no doubt you always wished you could.

In the background, the children could be heard playing in an unknown room.

“Don’t pretend you care,” you said quietly. Harshly.

“Oh darling,” your mother said with a smile that didn’t match her tone, “I couldn’t care less.”

“Then don’t talk about them.”

“I just assumed, perhaps wrongfully, that you would wish for them to have a home again,” she continued. The look in her eye was similar to yours. “A gift, if you will.”

You looked down at your mother silently. Oh, how Wednesday wished she could see the look on your face. She so very much adored when you were angry. There was a fire behind your eyes that lit something within her.

Then she started to think about the implications of your mother’s words. Would you allow her to offer such a thing? The reminder of your debt would follow you for the rest of your life. After all, you were still feeling indebted to her parents for the pendant you constantly wore around your neck. But with a home? She couldn’t even imagine the feelings it would invoke within you.

“Shall I continue?” Your mother asked.

You hesitated. Then gave a single, slow nod.

“If you accompany me to the gala, we will pay for the restoration of your little,” she hesitated, “family.” There was almost a sneer on her face, if Wednesday was reading her correctly.

“Are you blackmailing me?” You asked.

“Oh dear,” she laughed, “I’m not that dense.” Your jaw clenched. “It’s an incentive. A rather generous one.”

Your mother then stayed silent. A tactic, no doubt. It would give you time to consider her offer. Even Wednesday would admit it was a tempting offer. She and her parents had offered your family the same thing knowing they didn’t have the means to rebuild quickly on their own. It had been a quick rejection.

When it came to your mother, however…

“You’ll pay for the entirety of a new house,” you confirmed.

Your mother nodded in response. “Large enough for them all, in fact.”

“With the barn and stables.”

“Of course.”

“And nothing will ever need to be repaid?”

“It will be an act of charity.”

“And I can get that in writing?” You asked.

Oh. Oh, Wednesday could see the gears turning in your head. Once again, as she so often found herself doing, she thought back to those years she had believed you to be daft. Oblivious would perhaps have been the better word for it. Acting as if you were unaware of everything going on around you. On the rare occasion, even going so far as to act unaware of even the most basic aspects of life.

She used to believe you. After all, you were rather adept at playing off your intelligence. If she hadn’t been so tragically enamoured with you, life would have become far different than it currently was. She wouldn’t have had the pleasure of calling you hers. 

However, she knew better. She could see the ideas forming behind your eyes. No, they weren’t simply ideas, they were full-fledged plans. Wednesday desperately wished to have the ability to read your mind. What plan were you meticulously concocting?

“You may have it in writing,” your mother finally said. “I’ll draft it when I get home.”

“Oh no,” you said quickly, “I wouldn’t wish to trouble you.”

Finally, for the first time since your mother had appeared at the front door, you turned and looked at Wednesday. There was a fire in your eyes reminiscent of the burning house she had been forced to watch you run into. It was thrilling.

It was terrifying.

“Would you call Señor Moreno?” You asked with a smile that made you look just like your mother. “Mrs. Smith would like to draft an agreement.”

—---

Your discomfort was clear, but Wednesday rather enjoyed you in your current state. There had been few times she had seen you dressed well, fewer times since it had been a happy occasion. This was neither happy nor unhappy, so she took it as a positive. You looked rather stunning, aside from your wings resting uncomfortably underneath your clothes.

Not for the first time, her chest ached when you removed your hand from hers.

Listening to your mother fill you in on who was who was not on Wednesday’s to-do list. No, she didn’t truly care who these people were. What she truly cared about was the feel of your warmth beside her, enveloping her in something she had learned to crave. Something she could only receive from you.

“Come on,” you said softly, far closer than Wednesday had believed. It was unsettling.

She loved when you were unsettling.

With her arm looped through yours, she walked with you around the overly crowded room. A ballroom of sorts, she supposed, not too unlike the one in her own house. The difference was this one was bright and filled with straight-laced professionals. Her house was more often than not filled with criminals and unsightly characters for miles to come.

This was a far more concerning environment.

Every beat of Wednesday’s heart grew stronger the longer she watched you in what would have been your natural habitat. Try as you might to deny it, you were rather skilled at talking up those that could owe you favours. For example, the senator’s wife. Though Wednesday despised it, you had her laughing and getting closer the entire conversation.

You were lucky Wednesday had promised to behave.

She was lucky you had promised to behave.

The longer she stayed by your side throughout the evening, the more she realised there was a side to you she rarely if ever got to see. The part of you that could be serious and prepared for business. It was fascinating to watch your expressions and tone match whoever you were talking with. Almost like a mimic, if she had to put a word to it.

Sometimes, if your mother was around, she noticed the most subtle accent to your words. You sounded just like her.

She would never tell you.

“This is Wednesday Addams.”

Your voice pulled Wednesday back into the moment. There was a man in front of you both that she didn’t care to know. With his horrific toupee and pathetic mustache, she mentally placed him as a wannabe politician. His black tuxedo was slightly dishevelled around the collar, and his buttons were off by one. How peculiar.

“Addams, you say?” He asked with a voice that betrayed him more than the pipe hanging out of his mouth. “I believe I know of your father.”

“How so?” She asked even though she had no interest in hearing his answer.

“We met at a ball many years ago, if my recollection is correct,” he said. A puff of smoke left his mouth. “He’s doing well, I presume?”

“Quite,” she said shortly. Perhaps if she made it clear she wasn’t interested in small talk, he would leave her be.

No such luck.

“Perhaps he would appreciate an invitation to our next ball,” the man said. “He can get proper connections in place for when you take over.”

Your hand on the small of Wednesday’s back twitched. Nothing serious, a minuscule movement. It was enough. Out of the corner of your eye, she saw the slight frown on your face. Nothing overtly noticeable. Not that it would have mattered, the man you were both talking to couldn’t be bothered enough to notice the change.

“The Addamses are old money,” you chimed in, “there’s no need to take over.”

“Of course, of course,” he mumbled. A puff of smoke escaped from between his lips. “In that case, you must take that advice,” he said as he gestured toward you with his head. “You’ll need the good graces.”

Your hand twitched again.

“I’m not sure I understand,” you said with a slight tilt of your head.

“When you take over your father’s company,” he explained. Your nails dug into Wednesday’s back. “After dear Nicholas passed - rest his soul - you became the beneficiary of the company.” He chuckled. “Perhaps they were keeping it a surprise until you came of proper age.” A wink. “Don’t let them know I told you.”

You pulled your hand away from her back. Quickly. You could not have made it any more obvious that you were deliberately putting space between yourself and everyone else. If you could have turned and ran, Wednesday was convinced you would have.

She couldn’t begin to imagine the things running through your mind. Not only had he mentioned Nicky - which she had learned would always be a sore spot no matter how much time had passed - but he had also told you something you undoubtedly had never wished to know. You looked like you had grabbed an electric wire and hadn’t let go.

“Are you alright?” The man asked in a tone that indicated he couldn’t have cared less what your answer was. Wednesday could appreciate the indifference.

“Quite,” you said quickly. “Just thinking.”

“Ah, of course, I could tell,” he said with a nod, “I’ve seen that face before.” Another puff of his pipe. “You look just like your father.”

That.

That was the final straw.

Wednesday could practically hear your sanity break at that simple sentence. Any semblance of control you had maintained throughout the evening vanished. Before, you had acted like you had been shot by the words. You would close off, become solemn in the wake of the conversation. Being told those words almost hurt you more than losing your brother.

But not this time. No, now you were furious. If you clenched your jaw any tighter, Wednesday was convinced the bones would have shattered. Her eyes fell to your hands before you managed to shove them into your pockets. They were balled into fists.

She wondered if it pained your superficially healed burns.

“I believe I need a drink,” you choked out. “If you’ll excuse me.” You didn’t wait for an answer before walking off where Wednesday could no longer see you.

She was mortified.

How dare you leave her with people that, not only did she not know, but she didn’t care about? She had only agreed to accompany you because it would be a sleight against your mother. Not once had she agreed to be left alone with these people. Did you not know that she was not going to be good for your image? If anything, she would damage it more than it already was.

“I hope our dear Y/N is alright.”

She knew better. Wednesday really, truly knew better. But she couldn’t help herself. With a small exhale, she turned to face your mother. A polite smile was on her face and she looked rather nice, if Wednesday wished to say something positive about the woman. Not that she deserved it, but that wasn’t necessarily important.

You had her nose.

“Oh she’s splendid,” the man said, “just stewing on some thoughts. Right, Miss Addams?” He winked at Wednesday.

She felt the rare twinge of disgust in her stomach.

“I presumed,” your mother said. “Would you mind if I stole Miss Addams from you?”

“Not at all,” he said. He bowed his head, let out a puff of smoke, and turned around to start a conversation with whatever unlucky soul happened to be nearest him.

“Walk with me,” your mother commanded.

Silence was Wednesday’s best friend as she followed the older woman. She would admit, she had never believed she would find herself in this situation. Walking side by side with your mother - not the woman who raised you, but who brought you to life. It had seemed like a far-fetched dream, if not a full-blown nightmare.

She was ashamed to admit that she was… uncertain of how to act.

“You’re a rather brave young thing,” your mother said as she continued to meander through the party, waving to people when she saw fit. “Has our darling Y/N ever told you that?”

“I’m aware of my own strengths,” Wednesday answered. She reconsidered for a moment. “Yes she has.”

“Then we raised her properly.”

Wednesday opted to stay silent. It had only been a few moments of conversation, but she could fully understand why you felt a certain way about your parents. Was she aware of the ridiculous things she was saying? Did she truly believe that they had raised you? A foolish notion at best.

It was beyond clear that your true family had raised you. If she extended the definition of the word, Weems had even raised you more than the woman she was walking beside. You even called Weems a mother, which was evidence enough. Wednesday wasn’t one to get overly emotional, but she knew the difference between what your family had done to raise you and what your mother had done. The difference was glaringly obvious.

While you hadn’t told Wednesday much about your upbringing, she knew enough. Your mother had never been there when you cried. She hadn’t helped you with your homework, or encouraged your hobbies. It would be of no surprise to anyone if she didn’t know of your passion for climbing or boxing. She had left you to cope alone after not only a crippling car accident, but the figurative and, eventually literal, loss of your brother.

No, they hadn’t raised you, and even someone as emotionally stunted as Wednesday was painfully aware of it.

“I’m sure she’s told you rather horrid things about Marcus and myself,” your mother said, coaxing Wednesday out of her thoughts. “But everything we did was for her own good.”

Wednesday understood the anger you harboured for them. She herself was feeling that same anger well up within her chest. Not quite threatening to burst forward, but making itself known. Subtle, creeping into her veins slowly, like waves gently breaking on the shore. All it would take was one wrong move and those waves would turn violent.

“I believe you truly think so,” was all she said.

“Everyone she loves gets hurt,” your mother said. She stopped in her tracks and turned slowly to face Wednesday. “Or dies.”

“That’s improbable at best,” she said.

“You’d be wise to leave before you fall victim to that curse of hers.”

Something cold and damp settled into the bottom of Wednesday’s heart. It was… difficult to describe. Was your mother warning her, or threatening? She was unsure. The words themself were threatening, but her tone… she hadn’t prepared to hear that tone from such a woman. Not after what she had come to know about her.

“Not everything you hear can be taken as truth, love,” your mother said softly, far too soft for her own words. She was ignoring Wednesday’s silence. Or simply not caring.  “From what I’ve read about you, you know that painfully well.”

Wednesday turned to silence once again. She had nothing to say, which was a rather unusual experience. So far, she couldn’t properly think of a time she had been left without words. Or, quite frankly, even any thoughts. Skepticism was her friend, and your mother would not break her of such habits.

“There’s two sides to every story,” your mother continued. She looked out toward the crowd of people, and Wednesday followed suit. “This curse prevailed long before Nicholas.”

You had never told Wednesday of any incidents before Nicky. Though, if your mother knew about it, then perhaps you didn’t remember. Or you weren’t even aware in the first place. It indicated something that she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about.

Something that mixed together with everything she had seen as of late.

“We should get together one evening,” your mother said as she looked back at Wednesday. “Doubtless you have questions.”

She did. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she had numerous questions that continued to pile up with each second that ticked by. With how much your mother hated Outcasts, was her implication of a curse figurative or literal? If literal, were you truly cursed? Who had done it? At the very least, who had been injured or killed when you were too young to even remember?

Would you hate her if she agreed? There had been a few times you had mentioned, in passing of course, about regretting knowing little about your childhood. Whether from young age or potential trauma, you remembered less than you liked. If she had a chance to find those things out for you, would you be appreciative? Or would you be upset with her for talking with your mother so casually?

Would you hate her?

Her mind was running through every scenario possible. She wanted to tell your mother something; of what, she wasn’t quite sure. Wednesday’s lips parted in an effort to buy herself some more time when someone’s arm brushed against her shoulder. Just the lightest of touches, otherwise unnoticeable. It had been quite a while since she had last felt that electric shock spiderwebbing across her skin.

This was different.

Fire raced through her veins, creating an inferno in her chest that she desperately wished to smother. She could taste the smoke rising up from her lungs, scorching the back of her throat before settling into little more than a tickle. When her eyes opened, she saw vague shapes of the forest.

She was getting rather tired of the forest.

The birds were silent, and even the bugs had ceased to make their high-pitched calls. It was as silent as the grave. After witnessing the fire, this very setting rested heavy in her stomach. The only saving grace was the two familiar figures she saw standing underneath one of the outlines of a tree.

When they turned to face her, all comfort fled. Their faces were nothing less than mangled. Blood fell freely down their chins to the already-soaked dirt below their feet. Wednesday wanted to cry, to scream, to warn them of the creature looming behind them, but she couldn’t. She was silent.

Just like you on that fated night.

She blinked once. When her eyes opened again, the forest was gone, instead replaced by a house that she could recognise even from her single visit. Wednesday had never been downstairs in your parents house, instead only exploring a few rooms upstairs when she came with you, but she recognised the tile. The entire building smelled like you, in some odd way.

The dining table was huge, accentuated by the measly five plates that sat around the perimeter of the stunning wood. Only five. Two seats were empty, and two more were filled with sights that Wednesday didn’t think she could have imagined even in her most demented nightmares. In the fifth seat, Wednesday saw the near-perfect reflection of herself.

She had never imagined what her corpse would look like.

“I said don’t touch her.”

Your voice. That was your voice, which meant she was out of her vision. Her throat ached like she had been screaming for years. There was a dull throbbing ache in her stomach where one of the wounds on her corpse had been. But your arms were around her, holding her close.

The ache would subside.

“It might be wise to seek medical attention,” your mother said.

“This happened while she was with you,” you practically spat. Wednesday still hadn’t opened her eyes, but she could imagine the fury on your face. “I can be forgiven for not taking your advice.”

“I’d advise you not to make a scene, dear.”

Your mother’s tone left Wednesday feeling cold. Her own mother had never talked to her in such a way, even out of fear. It wasn’t a way a parent should ever talk to their child. Yet, your mother did it shamelessly in front of an entire crowd of people that had no doubt found their way around the three of you.

Her eyes opened quickly. Far too quickly, the lights from the room hammered nails into her brain. But all the pain and discomfort faded away when she met your soft eyes looking down at her in concern. You were rather beautiful, and just the thought brought a smile to her lips.

A smile?

Perhaps she had hit her head on the way down.

“Can you stand?” You asked softly.

Wednesday nodded once.

You kept your hands on her as you helped her to her feet. The floor felt a bit uneven at first, but with your arm wrapped securely around her waist, she felt no concern. Her trust in you was unwavering. You wouldn’t let her fall.

“You should take her somewhere quiet,” your mother said, against everyone’s better judgement. “It will help.”

You shot her a look, but otherwise stayed silent as you guided Wednesday through the crowd. Everyone parted, looking away in some form of almost-shame. They didn’t truly care. Elites cared for little outside of their own interests. And at that moment, getting the gossip firsthand was in their best interest.

There was no telling where exactly you were taking her. She didn’t care to know. If you were taking her somewhere, it would be safe. You had never intentionally led her into harm, and she knew you never would. You cared too much, and though it often got you in trouble, she loved it about you.

…

She had definitely hit her head.

When you opened the door and led her inside the darkened room, she didn’t initially check her surroundings. Wednesday was no fool, she would know if something was unsafe. But when you flipped the switch and illuminated the space, she was overcome with… confusion.

“The coat closet?” She asked, turning quickly to face you.

You were already pacing back and forth in the small - well, small for a room, rather large for a coat closet - space. Each step was harsh, purposeful. Behind you, your hands were clasped terribly tight, as if you were trying to prevent yourself from doing something foolish.

Perhaps you were.

“Did she hurt you?” You asked without looking.

“No,” Wednesday said softly.

You scoffed. “Probably the only thing she didn’t do.” The carpet was becoming worn into a path from your feet. “We never should’ve come to this stupid party.”

There were a few things Wednesday could have said, but she remained silent. It wasn’t often you would find yourself pacing, let alone in a closet. On those rare occasions, she had learned it best to stay quiet. Once you had gotten your thoughts and emotions out, you were lighter and could move on.

“I can’t do this,” you continued without prompting. “I don’t want to do this.” A turn on your heels. “I didn’t even want their name, let alone their fucking company.” The muscles in your arms tensed. “And apparently everyone is preparing for it. What happens when they find out I’m a fucking Outcast?” You readjusted your jaw. “He told me we shouldn’t have come.”

Wednesday perked up.

“Who told you?”

There was no sudden freeze of your movements, as was usual. No, your pace slowed until coming to a graceful stop. Each breath you took was calculated, steady. Strange. She had seen enough of your panics to know this was different. Wrong somehow.

“No one,” you said without looking at her. “Just… just a thought.” You turned slowly. “The voice in my head.”

“Your conscience?” She clarified.

You didn’t answer.

Wednesday didn’t like when you didn’t answer her. It left a gross feeling she couldn’t quite describe. The best description she could conjure was mud sitting at the bottom of her stomach, weighing her down. She didn’t like the feeling. It made her… well, almost sad.

It was possible you noticed her discomfort because, almost instantly, you walked over to where she was standing. Her entire body relaxed - for the first time that night - when your hands cupped her cheeks. There was something pleasant about your touch that never failed to ease any negative feelings trapped within her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked in a far softer voice. It was gentle and comforting.

She placed her hands on top of yours and nodded once.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you continued. “We should’ve just had a nice night at home.”

Wednesday didn’t disagree. There were many more things she would have preferred to do than come to some gala that no one seemed to care about. You had come under the premise of a gala for Outcasts, but she felt it was a farce. None of those people cared about Outcasts, and they never would. It would have been a much better use of both of your time to do something else, something far more enjoyable.

An idea formed in her mind and she quickly looked up to meet your eyes.

“We can still have a nice night,” she said slowly.

“Wednesday,” you said with a tilt of your head. “You fainted and I’m plotting the death of my mother. You’d have to come up with something pretty… uh…”

Your voice trailed off once she guided your hands down her neck. There was almost a humorous joy to the way you went slack jawed at any indication of activities less than professional. And when she continued, fighting a shiver as your fingers brushed the side of her clothed breasts, you stared with wide eyes until your hands rested on her waist.

“Wednesday,” you whispered. Her name always slid off your tongue with a certain grace that she couldn’t find anywhere else.

“You need a distraction,” she said, “as do I.”

“Please don’t feel like you have to-”

“-I would like to,” she said quickly. 

She knew where your mind was going and, in any other situation, she would have agreed. You had both agreed long ago that this wasn’t something frivolous; it meant far too much to the both of you. It shouldn’t be used for inappropriate reasons and, under normal circumstances, this would be an inappropriate reason.

Even though it was surprising to her as well, she genuinely wanted this.

“We’re in a coat closet,” you said with a slight squeeze of your hands. It felt nice.

“I don’t believe it would be our most unusual interaction,” she said with the slightest tilt of her head.

You bit back a laugh. It was a beautiful sound. “Please don’t call it an interaction, it sounds… dirty.”

She felt herself moving backwards. Whether you were guiding her or she was leading, she couldn’t tell. All she could focus on was your fingers rubbing light circles on her hips and your face getting closer to hers. If she simply leaned up on her toes, she could kiss you.

“I can call it intercourse instead,” she offered.

The both of you stopped when her back pressed against the wall.

“I think that’s worse,” you said, your breath fanning across her lips.

She waited for the question.

“Can I kiss you?”

A rhetorical question at that point, you knew the answer. You had always known the answer. Wednesday reached forward to wrap her arms around your neck and pulled you down into a kiss. It was soft and clumsy. After all this time, you were still clumsy for the first few kisses. Before you, she would have found it ridiculous.

Now, she enjoyed it.

Outside the door, the sounds of footsteps on the tile came and went. It didn’t stop either one of you, quite the contrary, it made the situation all the more thrilling. Wednesday knew the joy you would find in it; she could practically hear your words. Two Outcasts fucking around their personal belongings? Sexy.

Her breath hitched lightly when you slipped your hands underneath her dress. It wasn’t salacious; it was rather decent, if she was being honest. You didn’t hike her dress up over her hips and take her right then and there. Rather, you kept her covered, the only indication of something going on being your hands underneath the fabric.

“I’m sorry, mi vida,” you said softly against her skin as you pressed kisses across her jaw. “This will have to be quick unless you want to get caught.”

Wednesday was never a fan of what you and Enid - and clearly the rest of the world - called “quickies.” She was so selective of when and where she was willing to have sex that the thought had never appealed to her. Why dedicate such a short amount of time to something that required much longer? How was it enjoyable? Or even tolerable?

But, as she had noted throughout the night, she wasn’t particularly picky at that moment.

She nodded quickly. More footsteps could be heard outside the door. You were correct; she didn’t wish to be caught. The thrill was arousing, yes, but if it actually happened? There was no doubt in her mind that, though she wouldn’t care about their opinions, she would be mortified.

Your teeth pressed lightly against the pulse point of her neck as you smiled. If Wednesday stretched her neck just a little further, perhaps she could entice you to bite. There was something delectable about the feel of your teeth on her skin. As if you could read her mind, you lightly nipped at her collarbone.

It was a good thing you hadn’t completely enraptured her, or she would have made a surprised noise when you hoisted her up from the ground. Your hands held her by the back of her thighs until you pressed closer, leaving her trapped securely between your body and the wall.

Oh, she rather liked that.

Your unscarred hand moved, sliding softly against her inner thigh before brushing against her underwear. Her body shivered at the slightest of touches. It was humiliating. What was more humiliating was the smile on your face that she desperately wished would vanish.

“You’re already wet,” you noted.

She could kill you.

“The stoic Wednesday Addams is wet,” you said. Your fingers slipped underneath the flimsy fabric and she had to bite her tongue. “From a little makeout session in a coat closet.”

Out of all the times you could be condescending, you had chosen the worst moment. You chose the moment she was already going out of her comfort zone, but also, quite frankly, desperate. She finally understood the pleasure in quickies; it gave less time for words.

Wednesday would have told you to shut up right then and there. She would have stopped you simply out of spite. But her chance was ruined when you slipped two fingers into her with ease. Her head fell back against the wall as those fingers moved at a dangerously quick pace.

She wouldn’t have to wait long to finish. It was truly disgraceful how worked up she was. Had you known? Because she hadn’t. Wednesday had never anticipated ever being so close to a release with such little time. Perhaps it was you. You and your deceptively soft kisses on her neck. You and your nimble fingers that had learned long ago exactly what she loved. You and your damned thumb that never left her clit until she was so sensitive she could almost cry.

That warm feeling in her core didn’t build softly. It formed quickly with each swipe of your thumb, each thrust of your fingers that had her biting her tongue so hard she could taste blood. She managed to lift her head right when you pulled your own mouth away. Perfect.

Her lips pressed against yours before that feeling erupted inside her. It was different from all the other times. It was more intense, hitting her rather quickly instead of slowly cascading over the edge. Her nails dug into the back of your neck, but you didn’t seem to care. You simply held her closer, keeping your fingers moving in rhythm with her body until she could relax in your arms.

Footsteps came closer.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against your lips, “I know it was fast, we can take our time at home.”

Wednesday didn’t have an answer just yet. She was still out of breath, trying to recover from the wave of bliss that had left her unable to properly function. But she could give you some form of answer; a soft kiss, nothing like what you had just done to her.

She felt you smile against her lips.

“Here,” you said softly as you lowered her back to the ground on shaky legs. “I’ll grab our coats, you take a moment.”

The moment you were gone, she felt cold. It wasn’t something she had ever admitted out loud, but she despised when you left her even if momentarily. She was fond of the warmth you gave her, both internally and externally. There was something special about it that evaded her verbiage. All she knew was she enjoyed it.

When she opened her eyes, she froze.

“What are you doing?” She asked in a husky voice.

You thumbed through the cash in the wallet. “I’m stealing.” You grabbed the wad of cash and placed the empty wallet back into the coat before moving on to the next one. “If I’m going to run a company one day, I should start getting used to it.”

Wednesday walked up to you slowly and waited for you to finish with what was currently in your hands. Once you paused, she pulled you down into a kiss. Slow, soft, good. You pulled back ever so slightly with a small smile on your face, and she just looked at you.

“I love you,” she said softly.

You leaned down to kiss her again.

“I love you too.”

[hhoneylemon]

“𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯”

sam winchester x reader

summary: reader poses as a medical examiner and freaks out

word count: 1.1k

genre: comfort? fluff

warnings: mentions of blood and some intestines

“did you get the files, doctor?”

you cough, nodding, handing over the papers. you had entered with the winchester brothers, posing as fbi agents and a government pathologist. the medical examiner checks them over, and the three of you hold your breath. he finally nods, straightening up.

“well, good luck finding something we didn’t.”

and he was gone. you breathe out, nodding to sam, who opens the body hatch. the two brothers roll out the bed, working together to make it a better space for you to work.

you have premed knowledge. sam ran away from school, and then zach had apparently killed his girlfriend. you had reached out to sam to ask how he was doing and ask what he knew about zach, and you two met up for lunch and had a conversation about it. apparently same was roadtripping with his brother across the country to help him get over jessica. you told him to reach out if he ever needed anything.

a year goes by, same asking you odd medical questions. you always answered, hoping to be helpful. after a while, the questions got to your head and you asked why he always asked you such things.

when he told you what he and his brother actually did, you called him crazy. that was until you went on a trip with a friend to a ‘paranormal’ house. the events were so crazy, you called sam while your friend was in the hospital, and he came down with dean the next day. you helped them kill a ghost. it was so insane, you just had to help out, so you joined them on their road trip, having finally graduated stanford.

here you were, months later, ready to use premedical knowledge on a real life dead body. you shivered. you wanted to seem brave, like you could handle the more serious hunts, but this was a new level of weird. you bit your tongue and braced yourself as you reached for a scalpel.

sam stood to the side as you cut the victims open with the scalpel, disgusted. all you had to do was trace the lines of injury. dean actively helped you out, thankfully not leaving you to do this all alone.

you watched as the veins pulsed, black and gray and purple. you held back a disgusted sound, moving on. the lungs were shriveled and gray, most of the intestines the same. the heart was still completely intact, although you could see the pulmonary artery was black and thick.

a heavy hiss came from dean as he shifted uncomfortably. you gave him a look of understanding. you were getting freaked out. what could even do this to a person?

sam was on a call in the background, presumably ellen. he was explaining what the body looked like.

you lean forward, cutting at the heart. it was rock hard, much harder than anything else you’d dissected. your eyebrows furrow and you stick in your other hand, pushing harder against the left atrium.

you couldn’t help the frightened gasp that escaped you when the blood splattered onto your face. you dropped the scalpel into the victims chest and fleed.

you heard the sound of dean’s giggles even from a few rooms over. the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway until sam caught up to you, entering the bathroom. you had disposed of your gloves, had scrubbed at your face with hot water, and were sat beneath the sink you had used.

sam sits across from you, taking off his blazer and offering it to you. you give him a confused look; you were already wearing your medical coat.

“it’s covered in the blood, didn’t know it you wanted to exchange.”

you finally look down, panic flooding your system as you race to tear it off of your body. you throw it to the side, wrapping yourself in his jacket. he gives you a gentle smile and places his hand on your knee.

“what happened? why so anxious?”

you gulp.

“what if i’m infected with whatever got the vic because the blood touched me?”

he gently squeezes your knee. his smile never falters, his eyes even showing a hint of fondness. out of everything you’d been through, this is what freaked you out?

“hey, you’re okay. dean took the call, ellen’s sorting him out. i’m sure you won’t contract anything.”

he tilts his head, asking if you’ll stand up. you give him small nod and he stands, pulling you up with him. he immediately wraps you into a hug, placing his chin atop your head while his arms wrap around your shoulders.

“sap.”

you mumble, your own arms wrapping around his waist. you were so glad he cared about you like this. you’d just started dating, yeah, but tensions had been high and most hunters never find a partner anyways.

“thank you.”

he lets go of the hug, instead placing his hand on the small of your back. he walks you back to the room you had been in previously, dean having cleaned up and standing there on call with ellen. he thanked her, said goodbye, and looked up at the two of you.

“is it contagious?”

you could kiss sam stupid. well, you could do that any time of the day, this time you were just happy. he was so sweet, asking for you.

dean shakes his head.

“no. vic was sucked dry from something, there’s some kind of hole in the belly button. ellen narrowed it down to a few creatures, but she needs more time and evidence to figure it out.”

you breathe out a small sigh, and dean gives you a glance, his smile friendly.

“you good?”

“yeah, ‘m alright.”

you respond, not as loud as you normally would. sam’s hand snakes around to your hip, pulling you closer against him. you look up to him finding him already looking at you with a reassuring smile.

“lunch? we can get chinese.”

you sigh out happily, smiling wide. dean’s already walked out the door, the promise of food - even if not for him - sending him out the door, much to sam’s excitement. any alone time with you is enough. he squeezes your hip one more time before letting go, opting for facing you entirely.

“feeling better? well, i’m sure you will after some food, but at least after knowing you’ll be okay?”

you smile and nod.

“yeah. i’m excited for the eating part and i am feeling better, yes. thank god this isn’t my profession.”

you joke, though it holds seriousness. while looking at him, you contemplate for a second before leaning up and kissing him. he kisses back after a quick second, having been shocked, a hand coming up to gently hold your face. you lean back and break into a grin.

“thank you, sam.”

he gives a dorky smile, complete with a red face.

“you’re welcome.”

[trudemaethien]

Kyrimorut

I’ve just done another reread/skim of the repcomm books for details of Kyrimorut for @ossidae-passeridae, who encouraged me to do a write up for reference. Some of these facts are explicitly stated, scattered throughout the series, and some are my own surmises. (My main conclusion is that KT considered architecture just about as carefully as the TCW creators did the GAR ranking system. lolsob)

So. In this essay I will

Kyrimorut, Kal Skirata’s refuge for his clone sons, was called a bastion, and frequently described in siege terms. It was also referred to as a homestead and a farmhouse.

“It was yaim—part barracks, part hotel, part married quarters, part farmhouse, the archetypal Mandalorian clan home.”

This stronghold was located in the heavily forested northern hemisphere of the planet Mandalore, a few hours flight north of Keldabe City, within 100 kilometers of a small town called Enceri, and just south of a lake. It boasted a main house and numerous outbuildings, including at least one medical laboratory, animal pens, and a hangar large enough for multiple craft.

Rav Bralor, another of the Cuy’val Dar, rebuilt it at Kal’s request during the war, and it was finished enough by a year in, to house some members of their group temporarily, but was still undergoing renovations up to the last moment before they moved in. She used droids to aid in the construction. The building was composed of brick, wood, stone, and rammed earth, and the (probably local, veshok) planks were joined with interlocking joints. The interior walls were plastered and painted, likely with naturally derived mineral paints; one room was mentioned to be “honey-colored.” The windows were narrow, described as arrow-slits, and the doors were unpowered hinged wooden slabs. The whole thing was large, and the rooms were characterized as airy and roomy at various points.

The layout seems to have been vaguely circular, or a circle of chained hubs, with a central karyai. The lobby was another hub, and there were both surface and underground passages connecting the hubs, radiating out like “the spokes of an eccentric wheel.” For this reason I think there were two floors in the main house with one above, the other underground. There was also a sheltered circular atrium off the main hub, with a roof that slid back, where they roasted meat.

The house had gutters and down-pipes to deal with snowmelt and rain, and given the nearby lake, they would have to have a good vapor barrier for the underground portion. Since the place was rural rather than urban, it was largely quiet, and the homestead's acoustics were such that sound carried well. This indicates to me that likely only the exterior walls were fortified of heavy stone and rammed earth; interior walls were more likely built of wood and plaster and easier to modify if they had some need. Power was unreliable in such a remote setting, so they used wood fires for heating and cooking; everything smelled of wood-smoke. The entire structure was designed to be unnoticeable from the air, and the clearing was not visible until the last moment upon aerial approach.

The karyai was the main living room. In one scene, Kad played on the floor with toy animals (nerf, bantha, shatual, nuna, jackrab, vhe’viin) Atin had carved from veshok wood, Wade Tay’haai played a purple-painted bes’bev (sharp flute), and Rav Bralor brought throat-searing tihaar for everyone. She lived on her own clan’s farm a few kilometers away, and had brought Yayax squad, who mostly stayed there, to visit Kyrimorut. They were learning carpentry from manuals, as one does.

People had their own rooms for sleeping, with couples sharing, along the corridors. Arla and Uthan’s rooms both had exterior windows. Quarters were pleasant, plain but comfortable, with generous mattresses on the beds and a table for personal use.

Then there was a room Etain thought of as the interrogation room, so that’s uhhh lovely.

It’s unclear whether the large table where they gathered for communal meals was in the karyai, the kitchen (which was separated from other areas by a door), or some other room. Wherever it was located, it was possible for someone seated at the table to lean back without getting up and fetch a bottle of tihaar from where it was stored. The table was made of a single large slab of veshok wood, and was big and sturdy enough to use for surgical operation, dismantling engines, or seating a whole clan of armored Mandalorians. They sat in chairs around this table, and Kad sat in a highchair. They used porceplast plates, and mugs for ne’tra gal, a sweet black beer. The head of the household summoned everyone to the table for meals.

The kitchen contained a fireplace and hearth, a chair (where Kal slept), ovens and stovetops, a conservator, enough workspace for at least four people at once, and an adjoining storage area. The kitchen could be a busy, noisy, bustling place, but it was separate from other living areas; people sometimes went there to avoid others.

The 20-30 occupants ate constantly and prodigiously, and never seemed to be lacking. The food was described as filling but not elegant, and was heavy on the protein. They consumed a lot of game; Lord Mirdalan the strill was an animal native to Mandalore and a hunter. Roast shatual, nerf, and roba were mentioned, and they would leave a joint of meat on the table to be eaten all day down to the bone (I shuddered in food hygiene). Fish from the lake were fried in a pan, and they made broth from gihaal, dried smoked fish with a pungent aroma stored in metal containers, one of the staples of Mandalorian ration packs because it kept for years without refrigeration. Also what Kal called Kaminoans, but that’s another story!

We were worried they only ate meat for a while until we came across some vegetables. Kad had pureed kaneta at one point, and for breakfast boiled grain porridge and shirred eggs were on offer. Jilka diced amber root for some dish. Mealbread rolls were also plentiful, and there was a vat of stew at one point. Listed imports via Ny Vollen included flour, grassgrain, pickles, powdered milk, sacks of denta beans, soap, dried fruit, and a bantha bone which was hard to get on Mandalore. The roba they raised themselves.

The roba pen had multiple animals witht at least one boar and one sow with a litter, and despite having veshok posts and walls, the gate was left open. I’m extrapolating that these animals were semi-domesticated and allowed to forage for food but came home to their pen for safety at night. There were rail fences, crop fields, and plans for raising nerf on the property as well. Outbuildings were mentioned frequently, but this was one of the few actually described.

Notable native species mentioned were the large, ancient veshok trees, which were evergreen, hardwood, and straight enough that the table slab was cut out of one large piece. They were ice-glazed and dripping in the spring thaw, so presumably had some defenses against freezing and exploding, or breaking under the weight of the ice, and they populated all the way up to the the polar cap. There was underbrush and bushes, and groundthorn weed, which was very stubborn and difficult to remove entirely. The roba would have helped with uprooting this as they foraged. Vhe’viine were small rodents with white winter coats that lived in burrows in the fields.

The medical laboratory behind the main house (it was necessary to walk around the bastion after exiting to approach it) was a mobile genetics lab/agricultural trailer of the sort usually used for breeding livestock and at racetracks. It was occupied first by Ko Sai and later by Ovolot Qail Uthan. Mereel acquired it, and Mij Gilamar stocked it with stolen/black market medical equipment. When Uthan took over, they built her more lab space. There were rural veterinarians in the community as well; Etain mentioned getting a cryocontainer for a sample from a neighboring farm.

The hangar was situated in a shallow slope to the north of the main house, half-buried in the soil and disguised with netting. It was large enough to house several craft at a time, including Ny Vollen’s ship, Mereel’s speeder, and the Aay’han, among others. Swabbing down the compartments of the Aay’han, replenishing stores, and prepping the ship for the next flight managed to occupy most of an afternoon for four men.

The lake was also to the north, and I believe it was a very large lake, functioning as a heat-sink. It had not fully frozen despite the bitter winter, described as minus eight and thirty degrees colder than tropical (although the temperature scale is not mentioned, it’s likely celsius because of the author’s background). There was ice extending from the shore like a pier, but also mist rising above it in the early morning and frost on the shore, even though layers of snow deep enough for feet to crunch through the surface were mentioned elsewhere at various times. This led my friend to speculate that there could be geothermal activity in/under that lake. Kal and Walon Vau were planning to build a memorial on the near lake shore featuring the armor tallies of fallen clone soldiers.

There was granite in the area, which also gave support to the concept of historical volcanic activity. Their yard sported four chunks, each large enough for at least two people to climb up and perch upon, which had erupted from the surface long ago and been worn down to a weathered polish. Winds came in off a nearby plain. A clear (muddy) area large enough to play mesh’geroya was also near the house.

Enceri had at least one cantina, there was a landmark grain silo at the edge of town, and it was big enough to host a bustling market square, despite being described as more of a trading post than a town. There they could buy, among other things, preserved vegetables, engine parts, and local triple-distilled tihaar, which could double as degreaser for said engine parts.

If they needed more than Enceri had to offer, they could go south to Keldabe. Landmarks of note there included the River Kelita and the Oyu’baat tavern. The Imperial garrison was located near Keldabe.

“But then Mandalore itself was one big contradiction, with heavy industry and shipbuilding sitting cheek-by-jowl with farms that hadn't changed in centuries, sophisticated electronics and ancient metalworking skills side-by-side in the same suit of armor.”

Established clan homes seem to be the usual way of things despite Mandalorians supposedly being nomadic. Their “temporary” structures being wattle and daub also indicates the nomad thing to be a bit of a fallacy. Even so, they had planned a possible relocation for Kyrimorut in the worst case, a bolt-hole on Cheravh. Jaing had taken to calling it offsite hot standby.

So that’s Kyrimorut, which means Final Haven, where Kal Skirata and his chosen family hunkered down in the aftermath of Order 66. My friend says it’s basically Aberdeen, down to the detail of players getting plastered mid footie limmie game. I gathered these details from four books (Hard Contact does not mention Kyrimorut) and compiled them for anyone who’d like to make use of the rundown. Oya!

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Maybe pt. 6

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

I've rewritten this section so many times, and I'm still not thrilled with it, but I'm happy enough with how it's progressed. You and Norm are dealing with the aftermath of the raid on Vault 33 and how the MacLeans want to proceed following the kidnapping of their Dad.

Part 1 Here. Part 7 Here Part 12 Here

Part 2 Here Part 8 Here

Part 3 Here Part 9 Here

Part 4 Here Part 10 Here

Part 5 Here Part 11 Here

Norm stayed held up in the makeshift bunker, as quiet as possible, until Lucy returned to set him free. They embraced, holding each other close; he’d never been happier to see his sister’s face, but Norm could tell something was amiss when she clung tighter to him as he moved to break away. 

“Dad?” he asked cautiously, unsure if he entirely wanted her to disclose that information. He expected the worst. 

“They took him,” she croaked in reply, blinking back some tears. This was...unexpected. She took her time to explain how the raiders used her and some other dwellers as leverage to get the Overseer to hand himself over as their hostage and disappear to the Surface. Her story raised many questions, but honestly Norm was too exhausted to engage in those thoughts. 

“Everything will be alright,” she promised as she helped him to his feet. Norm wanted to believe his sister with every fiber of his being. Lucy usually could make good on this type of promise, but how on Earth was she going to navigate this one? 

His family mostly accounted for, Norm turned his attention to locating you. He hadn’t seen you since he fled the Vault 32 corridor. A wave of shame hit him as he recalled that memory, wishing he could have done something, anything, in an attempt to protect you. Instead, he turned tail and ran. But your absence the rest of the evening could be good, right? You didn’t get mixed up in the chaos in the main chamber of Vault 33. For once, Norm allowed himself some wishful thinking.

_________________________

The last hour or so was mostly a blur of events you were trying to piece together as you sat in the atrium receiving stitches from the only vault doctor standing. 

“And one more stitch ought to do it,” the doctor said as she wrapped up closing your wounds on your arms. Thank god, you didn’t know how long you could continue to avoid paying attention to the needle pricks across your arms. You were barely holding it together as is. 

 “You were pretty lucky you managed to quickly treat and bandage these wounds. I think it will help the healing in the long run,” she said as she disinfected and re-dressed the bandages over your stitches. “That gash on your left is pretty deep, though, so you might experience some numbness and lack of mobility if there’s nerve damage. When we see you back down in the med bay to change those bandages, we’ll talk about running a few more tests and rehabbing if needed,” placing her hand on your back as she moved to the next patient. 

After your encounter with your raider attacker, you managed to stumble down the remainder of the corridor into one of the outer supply rooms, connecting Vault 32 and Vault 33. Thankfully, it was equipped with some basic medical supplies, allowing you to hastily tend to your wounds before fading out of consciousness. When you awoke and finally arrived in Vault 33’s atrium, you weren’t sure how much time had passed, but much of the commotion had died down. 

You scanned the faces of the remaining Vault 33 dwellers as they moved around the atrium: Betty, Woody, Reg, Davy, Steph, and Chet, all accounted for. You did not dare identify those slain across the floor, afraid you might see a particular brown-haired dweller among them.  

______________________

Norm’s wish was granted when he spotted you in the crowd receiving medical attention from the Vault doctor. You were alive; however, his immediate relief turned sour when he saw your state. Blood spattered across your face and hair, and lines of stitches were woven up the sides of your arms being tended to. 

He could feel a plethora of different emotions bubbling up into his chest: guilt for abandoning you in a time of trouble, anger at himself and the individuals who caused you harm, and fear that you would never want to talk with him again. That last thought paralyzed him, stopping him in his tracks. What if you never wanted to see him again? He had just gotten his friend back, and was he destined to lose her? 

“Norman?” The sound of your voice clarified his brain, driving away all the negative thoughts and emotions. Instantly, he wanted nothing more than to be at your side. Moving one foot in front of the other, he hurried to close the distance. Once there, he wrapped his arms around you, and you fell emotionally into his arms. This time, he wasn’t letting go. 

_____________________________

The following morning came way too quick, and the dwellers of Vault 33 rallied just as fast, much to your dismay. An assembly meeting was called, and dwellers were assigned their post-raid clean-up duties. The goal? Get everything back to normal as fast as possible. How were we supposed to go “back to normal” after last night? A fresh coat of paint and routines of normalcy wouldn't cut it. But people were more interested in getting back to their day-to-day rather than lingering on the death and destruction of their community. Part of you didn’t blame them, but pushing past without a second thought also felt wrong. 

You arrived later than most of the crowd, but there was still an abundance of open seating. You took the open seat next to the MacLeans, interested to hear what the assembly had to say, even though you already had a good idea. Life in the vault is nothing but predictability.

“Settle, settle.” You heard as Reg took control, attempting to silence the crowd for the meeting. 

Lucy immediately stood, determined to have to the floor. You knew what she wanted to say before she opened her mouth to speak, seeking any chance of putting her broken family back together.

 “I have a proposal for the assembly. We send a search party to the surface to find my dad.” Unsurprisingly, her proposal was met with the shocked gasps of the dwellers present; nonetheless, she continued as resilient as ever to win them over. “Even with our dwindled numbers, we can spare four people from farm duty for up to two weeks.”

“Sorry, Lucy, but you’re talking about opening the vault door?” Reg interjected, asking for clarification on what was so “obviously” a ridiculous request. 

“For just under a minute. It’s just enough time… “ Lucy attempted, trying to rationalize with the crowd she was losing. You admired her courage but doubted the council or anyone in the Vault could be swayed to do something so whole-heartedly against their nature. 

“Okay, I know we’re just brainstorming here, and there are no bad ideas in a brainstorm… but.” 

Ah, there it is. The acknowledgment that this was never up for serious consideration. 

“But, that’s something that we ever do or have ever done, never, never ever.” 

“I know, I know that,” Lucy conceded, her voice increasingly desperate.

Betty, clearly having had enough of this conversation, interjects. “I know we’re all hurting right now, but our first priority has to be to maintain the security of this Vault. That means not opening any of our doors.” 

“Well said, Betty.”  “Yes, thank you, Betty. Okay, let’s move on.” That’s it; in a swift dismissal motion, the council decided. 

Lucy shakes her head in disbelief, shocked by the group's unwillingness. Not sharing his sister’s optimism, Norm speaks up about the situation's reality. “ They don’t want to find Dad. If they did, they wouldn’t get to be in charge,” he utters solemnly. His tone tells you that he wishes that wasn’t the case. Reassuringly, you place your hand lightly on his knee, being there for him as best you can. He moves his hand to yours, the gesture not going unnoticed as he maintains eye contact with his sister. He hated to be the one to break it to her that the MacLeans would be alone in this endeavor. 

Crestfallen, Lucy moves to leave the meeting; however, you had a feeling this wasn’t the last you’d hear from her about rescuing Overseer MacLean. 

_______________________

Norm fiddled with the Nuka Cola machine, trying not to make it abundantly evident he was up to something. He was so bad at this. He barely acted typically under normal circumstances, let alone stressful situations. He just had to keep a low enough profile to ensure he, Lucy, and Chet could reach the main vault entrance unseen. Easier said than done when the elevator access was smack in the middle of the most central location in Vault 33. 

He leaned against the machine as he heard someone approach, trying to act as casually as possible. Just act like everyone else, he told himself.“ Hey, Davey,” he called out to the older man as he wheeled another raider corpse down to the composting room, “How’s your day going?” 

“It's as bad as everyone else’s,” he replied, taken aback but somewhat used to how Norm engaged in social interactions. Shaking his head, Davey hurried down the hallway, brushing off the encounter, eager to finish this dreadful task. 

Norm breathed a sigh of relief as Davey walked away, now to get on with Lucy’s plan, but his relief was short-lived when he heard another pair of footsteps rounding the corner. He reassumed his original position.

“What are you up to, Norman MacLean?” he heard your voice ring out from around the corner moments before you appeared, arms crossed in front of him. Your tone and body language told him you were already suspicious of his behavior if you hadn't already figured out what he was up to. But he opted to double down, hoping you’d drop it quickly and let them be on their way. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, (Y/N). Everything is perfectly normal,” he says, leaning back against the Nuka Cola machine. 

“A huh,” you replied unconvinced. “And, I’m sure this has nothing to do with your friends waiting by the elevator?” you inquire as you peek your head around Norm to wave to Lucy and Chet waiting by the elevator. You smirk as Chet returns your wave. “I can help,” you lean in and whisper. 

Damnmit. “I know that, but I’d rather not get you into trouble if I can avoid it. Please,” he’s begging now. 

“Fine,” you allow with a dismissive eye roll. “Your secrets are safe with me.” 

“I never had any doubt… though if you didn’t mind discouraging anyone from calling the elevator, it would be a tremendous help,” Norm offered as he walked over to join his sister and cousin in the elevator. 

“Aye, Aye,” you saluted, taking up your new post as you watched the doors close behind them. 

[cariantha]

A Chance Encounter (1/3)

Book: Open Heart (Pre-Series) Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Teen Category: Fluff Word count: 2.5K Series Summary: Ten years before meeting at Edenbrook, Ethan and Sawyer have a chance encounter during spring break.

Chapter Summary: Ethan comes to Sawyer’s aid after a minor accident.

Part One: The Meet-Cute

July 2022 - Boston, Massachusetts

As Ethan rounded the corner, he saw the woman waiting in the lobby slump out of her chair and hit the floor. Jumping into action, he rushed over and knelt at her side. Placing two fingers on the side of her neck, he checked for a pulse. 

Out of habit, he called out the woman’s vitals. “Pulse is weak. She’s unresponsive.” Quickly scanning the gathering crowd, he spotted blue scrubs - the tell-tale sign of an intern - pushing through the bystanders. When his eyes landed on her concerned features, his heart slammed against his chest. “No fucking way.”

Shaking off the startling surprise and focusing on the blue-faced woman lying in front of him, he pointed a finger at the familiar face and crooked his finger. “You. Rookie. Get in here.”  

If he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, the electric current that coursed through him when he clasped the nervous doctor’s trembling hand, was all the convincing he needed. 

Once their patient had been whisked away and the crowd began to disperse, Ethan approached the wide-eyed intern, searching for a hint of recognition. He was disappointed when he found none.

“Doctor… that was… absolutely amazing!” she exclaimed.

His ego bruised, he reflexively hardened his demeanor.

She was taken aback when he delivered a harsh critique of her performance. “Amateur?”

The attending wore a look of warning on his face as the intern gave him a once over, sizing him up. 

“Maybe you can give me private lessons,” she finally suggested, cool as a cucumber.

Remembering where he’d heard that line before, he couldn’t contain his laugh. “Ha! I just might, Doctor…” Stepping into her personal space, he reached for her ID card and read the name. 

Sawyer Brooks

Ten years had passed without him ever knowing her name. They had agreed it was for the best to remain anonymous, to be realistic about their circumstances, to avoid attachment and unnecessary complications. 

“Well, so much for that,” Ethan sighed as he made his way to the atrium. 

March 2012 - East Hampton, New York

After a cramped five hour drive from John Hopkins University to East Hampton, New York, Ethan sat in a folding beach chair under a large rainbow umbrella. His toes dug into the cool, white sand as a refreshing Atlantic breeze blew through his overgrown chestnut waves. 

His roommate and two medical school friends threw a football around at the water’s edge, but Ethan was content to sit and read, glancing up only occasionally when one of them dove into the shallows to make a dramatic catch.

Not far down the beach, he spotted two young women struggling against the wind to spread out a beach blanket. Small children skipped excitedly to the wet sand, scooping it up and filling their plastic buckets. 

A short while later, large sets rolled into shore, the loud crashes pulling Ethan’s attention from his book. Giddy laughter called him back to the nearby beachgoers. The brunette woman, who stood knee-deep in the water, kept a watchful eye on the little boy and girl who chased each other with seaweed. At their blanket, the blonde stood and picked up a surfboard. In a cheeky hot pink bikini, her toned physique was on full display as she carried the board over her head down to the water. Her companions waved as she tossed the board over the surf and slid onto it, paddling out to deeper water. 

The kids cheered when Sawyer caught her first wave. The young men playing catch nearby joined in, offering their encouragement each time she caught a wave. “Go, go, go!” They also offered a few fist-to-the-mouth “Dohs!” when she wiped out. After a particular gnarly spill, one of the men ogled as Sawyer stood up in the waist deep water and adjusted her crooked bikini top.

With his eye most definitely not on the ball, Tobias caught the incoming throw with his face. “Oof!”

Too exhausted to paddle out again, Sawyer called it quits. 

As if it were happening in slow motion, Ethan watched intently from behind his Wayfarers as she emerged from the water. The rivulets running down her sun-kissed skin glistened in the afternoon sun. He found it sexy as hell the way she carried her board under one arm and pushed water from her hair with the other. 

Having drifted a ways down the beach, Sawyer started walking back to her claim of sand. “Whoa!” she shouted, jumping back suddenly.

Running backwards into her path, Tobias nearly tackled her as he lept outstretched for the inbound football. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?” 

“I’m good,” she sidestepped the stranger with slight annoyance.

He launched the ball back to his friends and signaled that he was done playing, quickly catching up to her. “Those were some impressive moves out there, Gidge."

"Pardon?" she asked with a furrowed brow.

"You know… Gidge… as in Gidget. The old-timey surf movie?"

"Yeah, I got the reference. I'm just surprised you know it."

He shrugged, "I was forced to watch it a thousand times growing up. My mom and sisters watched it all the time.”

As they walked back, Tobias asked if she was from the island. Sawyer shared that she was in New York for spring break with her best friend, Christian. Christian was the nanny for an affluent family from Los Angeles vacationing in the Hamptons for the week. The family, desperate to have their nanny join them on the trip, encouraged Christian to invite a friend to make the trip more worthwhile.

Sawyer asked the same question in return. Tobias explained that his current stepfather, his mother’s third husband, owned the house where he and his friends were enjoying their own break from medical school at John Hopkins. 

Approaching his group, she saw a couple guys munching on chips and reaching for beers in a cooler. Behind them sat a dark-haired hunk with broad shoulders, strong pecs, and washboard abs. He had a striking profile, though his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. 

Sawyer curiously stared back when Ethan turned in her direction. His head robotically tracked her movements as she walked past.

She was the first to break their staring contest, looking away when Tobias asked, “Do you wanna hang for a bit? Have a drink?”

“I should get back to my friend,” she answered, tilting her head toward Christian and the kids, “but maybe we'll see you around later.”

As she left a trail of footprints in the sand, Tobias called out to her. "See ya, Gidge! Maybe you can give us private lessons tomorrow!”

Spinning around and walking backwards, Sawyer shouted back to him with a teasing smile. "You can’t afford me!” Her eyes were drawn to Ethan again as she turned to face forward. There was an intensity in his gaze, even from behind his sunglasses, that made her pause before finally turning away.

“I’m disappointed she didn’t want to hang,” Tobias told his friends, taking a beer from one of them, “but wooo-weee, I am not upset to watch her walk away.” 

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

The next day, while his friends were nursing their hangovers, Ethan took advantage of the remaining morning hours to get some exercise. Returning from his jog down the beach, he spotted the brunette and children from the day before, building castles in the sand. His eyes searched for the blonde, finding her out on the water. But as quickly as he found her, she disappeared, a rogue wave taking her by surprise. Ethan slowed to a stop when her board torpedoed to the surface without her. He stood in anxious wait for what seemed like several minutes. On this private stretch of beach, there were no lifeguards. There was no one else to come to her aid, and just as he was about to jump into action, her head finally popped out of the water.

Sawyer struggled to find her footing as another wave crashed into her back. Her shoulders slumping from exhaustion, she coughed violently to clear her lungs of the swallowed salt water.

Urging the kids to stay put, Christian ran to the water, offering her friend a steady hand. That’s when Ethan noticed the streaks of red running down Sawyer’s leg as she slowly dragged her board to shore. 

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding!” Christian exclaimed, making her sit down on the board. “What happened?” 

“My leash got hooked on a ro–” She stopped as a towering figure suddenly shaded her from the morning sun. Sawyer’s gaze traveled up his sweaty, shirtless body. When she reached his eyes, they mirrored the sparkling blue ocean behind him. 

“Are you okay?” Ethan asked.

“I–I’m not sure,” she said looking down at her bloodied thigh. As Ethan crouched down to examine her wounds, she was momentarily transfixed by his handsome face, only snapping out of it when he lifted his eyes to hers. “You… you were with the Hopkins guys the other day,” she coughed again.

“I was.”

“Are you a med student, too?” 

“I am,” he answered, returning to his full height. “Did you swallow much water?”

Sawyer shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“We’re staying there,” he pointed to the nearby estate, “If you’d like, I can help you clean and bandage those cuts and scrapes.” 

“Could you, please?” Christian interjected. “I would help her back to the house, but I’ve got my hands full with the kids.”

Ethan nodded and waited for Sawyer’s consent. 

“Okay,” she said, getting to her feet. 

Ethan grabbed for the t-shirt he had halfway tucked into his back pocket. “I promise it’s mostly clean,” he assured, gently wiping some of the sand and blood away for a closer look. “You’ve got a pretty nasty cut here, but I don’t think it will need stitches. You can use this to keep pressure on it while we walk back.” 

A jolt of electricity coursed through her when her hand covered his to take hold of the shirt. Sawyer suspected Ethan felt it too, their eyes flitting to each other as he slid his hand out from under hers.

When she made a move to lift her board, Ethan put his hand out to hold her back. “I’ve got it,” he insisted.

“Th–thank you,” Sawyer stammered, butterflies taking flight in her stomach.

They walked in silence for a couple minutes before Ethan burst the bubble of nervous energy that surrounded them. “You know, if you had agreed to those private lessons, I'd be asking for a refund right about now," he teased.

“Jerk,” she giggled, giving him a playful shove. Ethan returned a small smile, barely flinching when her hand connected with his rock hard tricep. “I never claimed to be a professional. Amateur at best.”

“Where’d you learn to surf?” 

“Growing up I spent summers at my grandparents' beach house in San Diego. My brother and I found some old boards in the garage one year and we just taught ourselves,” she explained.

“Are you from California then?”

“Technically, Arizona. But I’m currently living in Cali for school. Caltech.”

“Caltech? Really?” he sounded surprised.

Slightly offended by his reaction, “Gee, thanks. Is that really so hard to believe?” 

“No! Sorry, I meant no offense,” Ethan quickly apologized. “I meant it more like… damn. Caltech is known as the MIT of the west coast. What are you majoring in?” he probed, his interest peaked.

“Bio with a minor in neurobiology. I’ve been torn between going pre-med or biotech, and I really need to make a decision soon. I’m scheduled to meet with my advisor when I get back, to enroll for next semester.”

If he had not already been smitten by her beauty, her proven intelligence and passion for science would have certainly captivated him.

Before another awkward silence settled in, Sawyer began her own line of questioning. “What about you? Did you complete your undergrad at Hopkins too?” 

Ethan shook his head. “No, I went to Brown. Pre-med.”

“Ivy League. Huh.” There was definitely a hint of prejudice in her tone. 

“Who’s the judgmental one now?” he asked, whipping his head toward her. “I’ll have you know I was on scholarship and it was conveniently close to home,” Ethan defended.

“I was just messing with ya,” she winked. “That’s pretty cool actually. I’m on scholarship too. So, you’re an east-coaster then?” 

“Yeah.” 

The disappointing reality settled over them as Ethan escorted her through the garden gate that led into the private property. He showed her to the outdoor shower and propped her surfboard up against the side of the house. 

“I’m going to grab a towel and a first aid kit. I’ll be right back,” he said, heading inside the beachside mansion. 

Ethan paused just inside the house upon returning with the items. He peered through the large mirrored windows that provide privacy from the outside world. He watched as Sawyer tilted her head back to rinse the sand from her hair, as if she were putting on a private show just for him. The sun backlit her curves as she arched her back, creating a picture worthy of a magazine cover.

Sawyer was wringing out her hair when Ethan reappeared and offered her the towel. Guiding her to a nearby lounge chair, he gestured for her to sit. He knelt beside her and checked her wounds again, making sure all the sand had been washed away. Confident nothing required stitches, Ethan opened the first aid kit. 

The mere thought of his touch made Sawyer’s skin prickle with goosebumps.

"This is going to sting," he warned before delicately dragging an antiseptic wipe over the affected areas. When Sawyer hissed in pain, Ethan gently blew on her skin, his eyes shifting up to hers to see if it eased the discomfort. 

She wasn’t sure if it was his cool breath that caressed her skin or his mesmerizing azure eyes that distracted her from the pain. Whatever it was, the smile that spread across Sawyer’s face suggested that it had the desired effect.

“How long are you guys in town for?” she asked as Ethan applied ointment over her scrapes and bandaged the deeper cut. Sawyer tried hard not to laugh at the serious expression on his face as he concentrated on applying the bandage perfectly.

“Um… we’re heading back to Baltimore… uh… the day after tomorrow,” Ethan finally managed, smoothing down the edges of the large band aid. “You?”

“The day after that,” she shared.

Lacking an excuse to keep her there any longer, Ethan stood, offering his hand to help her up. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you. If your bedside manner is any indication, you’re gonna be one helluva doctor.” 

Ethan’s cheeks blushed a light shade of pink, accepting the compliment with a shy grin. And as if they both realized it at the time, they let go of their still-joined hands. 

Reluctantly, Sawyer tucked her surfboard under her arm to take her leave. “Well, thanks again,” she smiled and turned toward the house next door. 

Ethan watched her take a few steps, feeling optimistic when she suddenly stopped and twisted sideways with her board.

“Hey-” she began to say, only to be interrupted by the sound of bellowing laughter. 

Ethan followed her gaze behind him. 

“There’s our always brooding, blue-eyed beauty!” Tobias called out, tackling his roommate with a provoking smooch on the cheek. “What are you making us for breakfast, bro?” 

Annoyed, Ethan shoved him away. “Get off me, man.” 

When he looked back, Sawyer was gone.  

Part 2: The Hook-Up

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @zealouscanonindeer @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75 @socalwriterbee @txemrn

[magicalqueennightmare]

Trust Me (Pt 2/4)

Rick Flag X Reader

Post Corto Maltese AU

Rick wakes up alone, in pain and confused as to what exactly happened after his memory goes blank.

Pain, mind numbing pain was the first thing that struck Rick when consciousness flooded back to him as he struggled to draw a breath, the act itself burning his throat. He realized something was blocking his airway and tried to move his hands to clear it but found them tied down in soft restraints.

The struggle to fully open his eyes came next, the bright fluorescent bulb overhead may as well have been the sun itself for how bad it burned. His eyes flicked around the room, the monitors attached to him by numerous wires, the bandages covering his chest and the tube in his throat. He was in a hospital room. How the hell had he ended up in a hospital room?

He closed his eyes against the glare of the light, struggling to calm his breathing as the memories hit him. Jotunheim. The fight with Peacemaker. Starro. You holding him in your arms, begging him to not leave you.

Your voice drifted through his mind "Just hold on baby, please just hold on. Please don't leave me Rick. I love you so much. Please stay with me, no baby don't close your eyes"

His eyes flew open, his efforts doubling against the restraints despite the pain that tore through him at the simplest of movements. He could hear the monitor going insane but that didn't matter, nothing mattered. If he was in the hospital, where were you? Were you ok? Did Peacemaker hurt you? Did Waller come after you?

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

The door burst open and two nurses ran in followed by a doctor. One nurse moved to silence the alarms while one moved to his right side while the doctor moved to his left "Colonel Flag. I see you're awake. Now if you'll calm down, we can remove the tube. I'm sure you have questions" Rick calmed slightly at the older man's voice and despite the glare he gave him nodded slowly, wincing from the pain he was now in.

The doctor nodded to the nurse then began the process of removing the tube "My name is Jaskier Vasquez. I've been your doctor since you were brought in. I need you to remain calm. You sustained numerous life threatening injuries, you've underwent four surgeries so far and if you pull another stunt like that if may be more. Understand?"

Once the tube was out the nurse who's tag read Lilith Everson offered him a glass of water with a straw. He hesitantly took a few sips before trying his voice "Understood sir" damn his voice sounded rough to his own ears. Dr Vasquez nodded then looked to the nurses "You both can go but will someone please call Sol?"

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

Rick watched the nurses leave then looked back to Dr Vasquez "Can the restraints come off?" Dr Vasquez nodded "Of course"

Rick was quiet while the restraints were uncuffed then slowly rotated his wrists. "How long have I been here?" "Two weeks. We were beginning to get concerned you weren't going to wake up" "My..My team" he finally manged and Dr Vasquez gave him a small smile "I can tell you about your injuries Mister Flag. I've called Sol Soria, she was on the ground that day and can answers more questions along those lines"

"How bad is it doc?" He asked and got a small laugh in response "You're a medical enigma Colonel" "How's that?" Rick asked, laying his head back against the pillow and fighting another wince.

"After Sol leaves you're getting something for pain. I know you'll want to be alert for news on your people, especially your I'm assuming wife or partner at the least" Dr Vasquez started and Rick felt his stomach drop at the mention of you. "Thank you for waiting" Rick replied and Dr Vasquez nodded before continuing "You were admitted with trauma to the chest, a punctured right atrium of the heart along with a concussion, the damage to your body from being in a building that collapsed around you and being in a near death state for two days before you were found. When you were discovered your heart rate was so low we barely realized you were indeed alive. The first surgery took over four hours to stabilize you and the other three were nearly as long. You have a long road to recovery filled with physical therapy, being here for a good while longer and I would probably suggested a psychologist as well. For now you need to rest and let your body begin to heal"

Rick nodded slowly "Dr Vasquez...my team...my..." his mouth stumbled on what to call you. Partner? Girlfriend? He never got to make you his wife. Dr Vasquez patted his arm gently "They're heros Colonel. They fought hard for this country and won. Corto Maltese is still standing thanks to their efforts"

Before Rick could ask anything else a knock on the door got their attention and Sol walked in. Her eyes widened when she realized Rick was awake "Colonel Flag" he smiled softly "Sol, I've told you to just call me Rick" she blinked a few times then nodded slowly "Rick, you're awake"

Dr Vasquez looked between the two of them then cleared his throat "I'll give you two a few minutes"

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

The moment the door closed behind Dr Vasquez Sol answered the question Rick wanted to know the answer to most without him even having to ask. "She's alive Rick. She's broken but she's alive"

Rick's eyes moved to her and she smiled slightly "I've also got to say she is fucking terrifying when she is angry" a laugh fell from his lips despite the pain the movement alone caused "One of the many reasons why I fell in love with her"

Sol stepped closer to the bed, reaching into one of the pockets of her pants. Rick watched her curiously until she pulled out a familiar metal chain. It was your necklace. A st Michael pendant that had once belonged to your grandfather. She ran her thumb along the chain "Her only ask of me was to bury this with you. It was the only earthly possession she had that truly mattered to her"

Rick looked from it to her as she gently placed it in the palm of his hand. "I've been in contact with Robert and Harley. They didn't want her to know anything until you woke up because none of us wanted her to have to endure losing you again. Can i call her now?"

Rick wrapped his hand around the necklace and despite his heart screaming otherwise he answered "No"

"No?" Sol echoed and he averted his eyes from her "I just woke up Sol. Dr Vasquez pretty much said we won't even know the extent of lasting damage until I can get up and about in physical therapy. I'm not asking the woman I love to be tied down to that. I can barely move without being in pain" for the first time since meeting her he saw anger in Sol's eyes pointed at him "You're a damn fool then"

Before he could ask anything further she was turning on her heel "I'm glad you're awake. I'll be back in a few days. I'll honor your wishes for now but I am calling Robert" with that the door closed leaving Rick to his thoughts until the nurse came in carrying a shot that she said Dr Vasquez ordered for pain and if Rick was being honest he needed it. Simply breathing felt like glass was being dragged down his body.

When unconsciousness dragged him under once again your face filled his mind as the rest of the world faded away.

Rick sat down in the chair the physical therapist, Marcel had offered him. He was making a lot of progress, more than he really should have been but not enough for his liking.

He could walk on his own again, barely but still. He needed to do more. Sol was speaking to Dubois regularly but refused to tell him anything besides that you were alive. Her words were "If you won't allow her to be at your side you don't deserve to keep tabs on her Colonel"

He let out a harsh breath of air and Marcel eyed him "Pain hitting you Rick?" He shook his head "No. Just annoyance at my own body" Marcel laughed lightly "You're outdoing any standards. Must have something worth fighting for"

His hand found the chain of your st Michael necklace that now hung around his neck as he replied "I do. That was enough of a break. Let's get back to work" he wanted nothing more than for you to be here, to know he was alive but he couldn't do that to you.

He couldn't take care of you like this. He couldn't run, couldn't fight, couldn't make love to you. Showering without getting winded had been a feat. He wasn't even sure he was still the man you fell in love with but that man was still in there and he was going to do everything in his power to find him again and find his way back to you and pray you'd find it in your heart to forgive him for hiding. "Lets get back to work then" Marcel echoed.

"She's coming to Corto Maltese" that was all Sol had told him. No warning. No nothing. When he'd pushed further, asked if something had happened to you, she'd shoved him against a wall in the hospital and shoved a finger in his face "You happened to her Colonel Flag. I see you healing and getting better every day. She is dying. Her heart is breaking further and further. When she's not picking fights with random villains in Gotham she's not sleeping and when she does she's waking whoever she's staying with up from nightmares. I gave you time to heal. Your time is up. I won't sacrifice her for your stupid sense of what she'd want. Put yourself in her shoes. Would you take her however you could have her? Injured or not?"

Rick nodded "Of course" "Then why do you think she loves you any less? That woman had to be dragged from you. The only thing that stopped her from laying there with you in the rubble of Jotunheim was her anger. She pushed herself to be angry. She killed peacemaker then when he was gone she aimed that fury at Starro and when he fell she fell in line with my men to help take down any remaining soldiers of the old regime. I watched her. When she realized there was no more enemy she collapsed. Her knees went out from under her and Robert had to carry her onto the plane"

His heart threatened to break worse than when Peacemaker shoved that broken sink into it hearing what you'd been going through. He just wanted the best for you and didn't think having to be his fucking nurse maid was the best but if losing him was killing you. He couldn't do that. He put himself in your shoes for a moment. He thought about if it had been you that had fallen in Jotunheim. You that he thought he'd lost forever. You that had been here, going through treatment and therapy because for some reason you thought he wouldn't want you broken and his heart crumpled. Fuck. He'd been an idiot

"Ok" he replied quickly and Sol gave him a small smile "Thank you"

@princesssunderworld Rick is apparently demanding a lot of attention so this is getting written quicker than I thought.

[themiscyradobermans]

Nadia's half birthday was on Monday August 26th. Since she turned 6 years old I've been doing echocardiograms every 6 months, instead of just once a year, so I took her in to work with me that day celebrating the fact she is 9.5 years old, knowing we would probably do her echo at the end of the day. It's always a little bit exciting and nerve wracking all at once. Well unfortunately after 5 years of testing normal over the course of 8 normal echocardiograms, she had her first abnormal result. Her status was changed to Abnormal: MMVD. Myxomatous Mitral Valve Disease. A disease I by now know very well, as we see patients in Cardiology with it every single day. It's characterized by a progressive thickening of the Mitral Valve (the valve that connects the left ventricle to the left atrium) which leads it to stiffen and in turn causes it to close improperly, thereby starting to leak. It is the most common acquired (typically adult on-set though some rare juvenile or near juvenile cases exist) heart disease in dogs. It is most typically seen in small breed, geriatric dogs, but it can occur sporadically in large breed dogs too. In some breeds there is a very clear, genetic and hereditary component with very strong familial occurrences, such as in Cavalier King Charles Spaniels (90% of them will be affected by age 10), Cocker Spaniels, Dachshunds, Yorkies, Pomeranians etc. In other breeds it almost seems to happen randomly, especially in large breeds where it often appears in an isolated individual. (I'll make a more detailed post on MMVD, separately). To be honest while Nadia is not the first doberman I've seen with MMVD, we even have a few patients with it, all completely unrelated and from different types of bloodlines, it's kind of surprising to see one with it, because in general with a Doberman we expect DCM. Which brings me to my next point: MMVD and DCM are completely distinct from one another even though they both affect the left side of the heart. Fortunately for Nadia, she is in the very early stages of the disease. She is classified as a B1 and what more she has no remodelling at all. Her heart is still completely normal in appearance, size and function. Her Left Atrium and her Left Ventricle are normal in size, and her heart is pumping blood to the rest of her body with normal strength and power. The only reason she is clearly diagnosed as abnormal ather than equivocal, is because she has a mild leak at the valve and the mild leak corresponds to a mild increase in size of her left ventricle when compared to her own previous echo (but when compared to reference values is considered still in normal range). The valve still has a normal shape, but it is clearly a bit thickened and she has a Grade I out of VI heart murmur. She does not qualify for medication, she does not need to be exercise restricted or have her diet changed. She is totally asymptomatic and may continue to work, train, play and do whatever we want to do. She would no longer be cleared for breeding but, at 9 and a half years old Ms Nadia has been spayed with no plans to visit a whelping box any time soon. She shows Zero signs of DCM on her echocardiogram and meets none of the criteria for the diagnosis of occult DCM on her echo. She had no arrhythmias during her echo. Her last holter was in May and was normal. This is critical to me and the most important desicive factor with relation to my breeding program. MMVD is a very slow progressing disease compared to DCM which is a very quickly progressing disease on average. As a general rule of thumb age of onset is also associated with speed of disease progression: i.e. the older a dog is at onset, typically the slower the disease progresses. Especially in medium large and large breed dogs the most typical presentation we will see is a dog that gets diagnosed in the mild stage ages 8-11 yrs and never really progresses out of the mild stage, usually passing of something else. I'm hoping this week be the case for Nadia, and she will have many healthy years ahead of her.

In great news, Nadia also had a follow up with her oncologist (she had mammary tumours removed in december when she was spayed, and one of them came back as cancer, the others were all benign) and she remains cancer free for now.

Pictures were taken yesterday when she accompanied me to meet my new family doctor.

[follow-up-news]

Less than a week after NBC News detailed how the hospital system Atrium Health of North Carolina aggressively pursued former patients’ medical debts, placing liens on their homes to collect on hospital bills, the nonprofit company announced it would cancel those obligations and forgive the unpaid debts associated with them. Some 11,500 liens on people's homes in North Carolina and five other states will be released, Atrium’s parent company, Advocate Health, said with some dating back 20 years or more. Advocate Health said it is changing its policy now as “the next logical step” following a 2022 decision to stop filing lawsuits and property liens to collect on patients’ medical debts. The company declined NBC News’ request for an interview about the shift.

[tbgblr2]

Cruising into new life - part 1

I’ve just recently came back from a cruise holiday. One of the things which always upset me with cruises was that typically you cannot join if you reach 24 weeks of pregnancy so here’s a story for if things got a bit turned on their heads.

“Everything looks great” our midwife smiled as she wiped the ultrasound gel from my wife’s belly. Jodie pulled her top back down again – tugging it at the end as it threatened not to fully cover the expanse of her belly, and using both of us as support she managed to get sat up and into an upright position.

“I’ve been asked to hand these out to late term mothers who were looking for an opportunity to have one last hurrah before their baby comes. I’m happy to say that as you appear to be complication free I’m happy to sign off on you attending if you’re interested.” She pulled out a drawer and handed us a leaflet.

The leaflet explained about a cruise which was being hosted by Charles LeGrande a well-known eccentric billionaire who – thanks to their media presence – we knew had been expecting his first child with his wife at roughly about the same time as us. It explained that his wife was a lover of the sea and was not happy that the typical cruises would exclude pregnant women when they were typically the ones who needed the luxury and pampering the most. So he was opening his personal cruise ship to 1000 guests who had to be hand-picked by their medical practitioners as being low risk and willing to enjoy the event.

It promised excellent food, 2 weeks of relaxation, access to an executive team of medical staff to cover any possible risk, and even a helicopter to get you back to the mainland should anything present as an emergency situation. The team knew there was every possibility that several of the mothers to be could give birth during the voyage, and yes, that was even planned for with the entire eighth deck – with pristine sea views – converting their cabins into bespoke birthing suites for the trip.

My wife couldn’t wait to say yes, so that is how we found ourselves, 2 weeks later, 39 weeks pregnant and waddling up to the check in desk at the cruise port, with the view of the most magnificent ship we had ever seen our backdrop as we approached the building.

The staff had everything to hand, each way you looked, all you see were bumps of various shapes and sizes – but all were in an advanced state of pregnancy.

The guests were invited to sit down so they weren’t forced to stand up in queues, whilst the staff came to them one after another to get them checked in and issue them whatever documents they needed for the cruise. We were impressed.

Our host stood with his pregnant wife standing beside him at the end of the hallway as each group in turn left the check in area and walked onto the ship, greeting them personally. As we approached the couple my wife commented on Charles wife – who we later learned was called Adriana, or Adi for short – must have incredible stamina to remain standing for so long in her condition – and believe me I have an eye for beauty in the pregnant form and this lady was pregnancy personified – tight dress accentuating what could only be described as a lithe dancers body, with breasts out to there and a belly to match.

The couple were of course full of smiles and welcoming gestures as we walked up the bridge to the atrium, a magnificent view of crystal chandeliers, gold finishes and guests and crew mingling at what was essentially a meet and greet session. We grabbed some canapés and some (non alcoholic) cocktails and looked around. The guest list looked to be from all walks of life – a few men dressed in very expensive looking suits along with their wives in tailored dresses to accentuate their pregnancy alongside working class people – would say around 80% as a guess appearing to be first timer parents – or at least those who didn’t bring their children with them – and a few who had smaller children in tow. One woman who was heavily pregnant had a younger lady with her who we later found out was her daughter, both ironically due the same day. There was what I presumed was a poly couple – 1 man along with 2 women – both heavily pregnant, and one of them holding a small child to her hip.

We met several crew in uniform, each identifying their name badges but not their role on the ship – they advised that Captain LeGrand was wanting to introduce everyone personally.

Finally all guests were boarded and we were asked to move to an adjoining room – which turned out to be a large cinema – where the captain was to give an address. Everyone shuffled in, groans of appreciation from the pregnant ladies having a chance to get off their feet and take a seat as the staff lined up, one set of uniforms on the left and another set on the right. There was an announcement over the PA system;

“Ladies and gentlemen please welcome your host, Mr Charles LeGrande.” He walked into the stage without his wife to good natured applause from the crowd, and as he waited for the noise to recede, he started to speak.

“I’m sure you agree this is a little unusual, but you have all joined me and my wife for what we hope will be a happy and memorable occasion. As you are no doubt aware, my wife is days away from her due date and wanted to do something special. She always hated that commercial cruises did not allow pregnant women on them – her history was a dancer in a show on board these types of cruises – so she asked if we could do something private and avoid the bureaucracy whilst giving pregnant women like you some much needed pampering time as you approach a major milestone in your lives.” This was met with a bit of cheering and clapping from the assembled crowd.

“For the next 2 weeks, I hope you will make the most of these facilities. I will answer the most obvious question first. We have ladies on board who may or may not go into labour through this cruise – my wife included. To ensure you are cared for during this time we have hand-picked an elite team of midwives, doulas, paediatricians and obstetricians, so please allow me to introduce you to the team on my left”. He offered a flourish of his arm. Generally, there was a round of applause as 2 ladies sat behind us caught glimpse of one of the staff – he was a muscular hunk of a man, probably more suited to a catwalk or movie studio than a medical field, and their content caught both me and my wife off guard, sending us into fits of giggles:

“Oh jeez, hope he doesn’t have to deliver my baby - I’ll be too focused on those guns and I’ll forget to push!”

LeGrande continued “To my right are our customer relations team, our spa team, your dining host, customer service staff and our head of housekeeping.” Another round of applause and waves followed from the team. “If you have any questions at all through the cruise please contact the customer service desk and they will make sure the appropriate team members are informed.”

“Next we have your personal trackers. As each of you boarded the ship, you were given a small device.” I looked at the coin sized puck that was handed to me that I put into my pocket. “This is your room key, and more importantly it offers you a way to get in touch with our crew. The red button summons medical help should you need it and the blue button summons customer support. Please, we know that in the later stages of pregnancy mobility is not the best, so please allow us to bring food and drink to you.” There was a general murmur through the crowd. “Of course please be aware that we cannot be everywhere at once so if you log into out app on your phone on ships wifi you can get an idea if the queue and status of your request – as much as we want to try and make things hassle free, if you want something quick, I’m afraid you will need to fetch it yourselves.”

“To aid your mobility on board, at each lift lobby and in the designated room alongside the atrium are electrically assisted wheelchairs. Please feel free to use them – they are not drivable, but the electrical support should help with whoever may be wheeling you around. Please when you have finished with them please return them to an available charging point, or if that is not possible, please hold the return button for 5 seconds until it starts to flash. That will alert our porter team to retrieve it. If you come across one which you would like to use, simply press the button again to stop the signal.”

“I have 3 more announcements. Sorry I know I have been droning on and you would like to explore the ship, but all are very important. Firstly for your safety, please review the lifejacket procedure in your tv in your room. You will be required today at some point to visit your lifeboat station and check in to confirm you have found it. If you have not done this by tomorrow one of our staff will be required to escort you to it – some parts of the law cannot be avoided to maintain our insurance!” Thankfully the crowd laughed at this as he continued “next will be our adults area – when we are in international waters – which we will announce over the PA system when this is the case – will operate a clothing optimal policy. We must insist on zero attendance in these areas by your children. Access to these areas will require use of your puck to unlock the doors and access to these areas by the lifts.” He continued before the murmuring got too loud at that announcement “and finally my wife has an announcement.”

He stepped to the side as the large screen behind him lit up. Adriana appeared on it, beaming, smiling face in front of the camera. She spoke with an accent which hinted at Latina roots, but was highly Americanised now. “Welcome on board. My husband and I would like to welcome you to watch our birth.” There were gasps and mumbles in the crowd but she continued. “I have a camera crew who will be with me during the voyage. We will broadcast over channel 10 on your room TV sets and also in this cinema. Until my labour begins I will be meeting and greeting people on the ship, and once my time is upon me, I would like to share it with you. After leaving the dancers life full time I have trained as a doula, and feel that birth education is incredibly important. I hope footage of my birth gives those of you who are yet to experience this miracle some confidence that you can do it.”

More applause ensued as the message sunk home. This was certainly going to be a cruise to remember that’s for certain.

Charles brought the meeting to a close. “I thank you all for attending and now please enjoy the facilities on offer in our ship.” He held a walkie talkie to his mouth and announced “ensign please let us depart.” With that there was a rumble as the ships engines powered up, and as started to file out of the cinema we felt the movement of the ship as it pushed off from the docks.

It took a little while for the crowd to move, with a large percentage of them groaning and complaining as they were forced to lift their pregnancy addled bodies back out of the – I must say – very comfortable seats. We took it slow, my hand grasping Jodie’s as we took a leisurely stroll around the deck we were on, it was certain that no expense had been spared in getting this ship outfitted for our needs. We came across the room with the wheelchairs and both of us turned as one to look at each other. We nodded simultaneously and dashed in to give one a go. There were still about 2 dozen left hooked up to charge points, so we uncoupled one and Jodie slowly lifted herself down into the seat. Her groan of appreciation for getting off her feet was heavenly to me. I gave it a test push, and found with the electrical assistance it was almost like no one was sitting in it at all.

She looked at her app on her phone as I pushed her along a corridor, reading out useful bits and pieces to me. “Decks 1,2,4 were crew quarters. Deck 3 is dedicated to the atrium, cinema and customer services. Deck 5 contains restaurants, and the spa area. Deck 6 doesn’t appear to be used, 7 and 9 were guest rooms, 8 was the converted floor for the delivery suites around the outside cabins and a medical centre and nursery inside. Deck 10 was the entertainment deck – an indoor area with the nightclub / activities room, and all the outdoor pool areas. At the rear end of the ship – or aft it says here I guess using nautical speak – is the adults only area. There’s access from there to a deck 11 area which is described as the oasis… now that I want to see.”

I grin as we approach a lift “if that announcement was anything to go by, we’ll see a lot more in the adult area than we maybe should.”

My wife just grinned at me and gave me a sly look. She knew as well as me that since she got pregnant I’d been – to quote her – one horny bugger – and she knew that having the opportunity to spend time almost ogling dozens or more pregnant women would be my own idea of heaven. She had found my porn stashes fairly early on in our relationship, and she certainly embraced my kinks, especially now that we had managed the pregnancy thing for real.

We were broken out of our reverie by a ding as the lift arrived. We had left it for the majority to clear out and head to their rooms before we headed that way to avoid crowded lift areas – after all bumps took up a lot more room than expected inside a lift. We stepped in and felt the sensation as we went up to floor 6 the one designated for us. We got out of the lift, and I trundled my wife and chair down the corridor. We spotted our bags outside the room so swiped out puck against the door lock, shoving the door back to peer into the room.

It was gorgeous. We left the chair outside and my wife walked in to a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as she looked left and right. I took a step outside and brought in our cases as my wife made a beeline straight for the bed. We noted that alongside the compliment of regular pillows there was a full body pregnancy pillow designed to help support the bump. She flopped down and gave out the most appreciative moan I had ever heard. I offered to take the chair back to the atrium storage area whilst she unpacked, which she agreed to. I headed back out, closing the door behind me and following a walk down the corridor, waiting for a lift ride, taking it down then back up again, and walking along to our room once more, I opened the door to be greeted by the whistling quiet little snores of my wife, deep in sleep, our cases exactly where I’d left them.

I managed to get our stuff unpacked whilst making as little noise as possible and thankfully it didn’t wake my wife. I was constantly amazed at the little smiles and groans she made as I visibly see the movement of the baby inside the bump, encased by the tightly stretched fabric of her top. After unpacking I leave her to her sleep as I shuffle out the room and explore a bit. I run into a lady in the corridor who rivalled any pregnant belly I’d seen in my life, and gave her a quick nod as I noticed she was in the room next door to us. She returned the nod but seemed to be in a bit of a rush to get back into her room. Not that I could blame her of course – strange man in a corridor coupled with late stage pregnancy bladder – who knows what rush she was in.

I walked along to our lifeboat station and registered my attendance (which thankfully also accommodated Jodie as well) – another thing crossed off the to do list, then made my way up to deck 10 to see the entertainment area. I was met with a camera in my face and the beaming smile of Adriana.

“Ahh hello there sir. I can only presume by your flat midsection, you are one of the fathers to be rather than one of our future mothers?” I couldn’t help but smile at her own infectious smile as I replied

“I’m afraid so. Just exploring on my own as the wife has a nap. My compliments to whoever buys your mattresses – she was asleep within minutes of lying down.”

She smiled in return, her hand caressing her large bump which my eye was drawn down to in the process. Realising I was still being recorded I flicked my eyes back up and looked back towards her face. “I’ll be sure to tell our master of housekeeping. Please, enjoy your stay and I’ll look forward to seeing you around the ship.” With that she gave another beaming smile, the camera man gave a nod to signal that they had stopped recording, and Adriana gave me a quick peck kiss, almost on my cheek in the air a few millimetres from actually touching my skin, thanking me for playing along – usually if someone has a camera sprung on them they panic which is really hard to edit live. Two things crossed my mind – firstly – what perfume was she wearing because it smelled good – all fruity with major notes of cherries, and soon after I froze as I realised point two – I’d potentially just been broadcast to the entire ship checking out Adriana’s bump.

Two other people were in the room – the mother and daughter duo. They were both smiling and looking straight at me which was let’s just say unnerving, but I walked towards them and said my hellos. It was here in the small talk that I learned these 2 ladies – Karen and Jess were mother and daughter, Karen’s husband, Jess’s dad – had divorced several years ago. Both ladies had fallen pregnant after an incident at a celebration even after Jess’s graduation from university. The divorce settlement had allowed them to be self sufficient for the duration of their pregnancies but Jess was aware that she couldn’t live from her mothers hand downs forever so knew once the baby was born she would be starting to look for full time work whilst her mother looked after both her own baby and her grandchild.

I gave my own backstory – me and my wife Jodie had finally decided to try for a baby after several years of considering it, and so far everything was going like textbook. We had an opportunity to learn the sex if the baby several ultrasound checks ago, but we decided against it, but had the doctor write it down in an envelope which she kept in her purse should she ever want to read it. All this time that envelope had remained unopened and we had no plans to change that.

After the introductions and pleasantries were over with, Karen – the mother – grinned at me. “So we saw you checking out boss lady’s rack. Hey man I don’t blame you, she looks good” she emphasised the word spending just a little too long sounding it out. “Just don’t let boss man catch you doing that or he may make you walk the plank. Arr!” She emphasised the pirate noises as I almost choked laughing.

“Would you believe that I wasn’t?” I asked. Both ladies shook their heads together. I was actually looking at her bump… to make sure that I don’t bump into her.” The last bit came out maybe a little too fast for my liking.

“Oooh so that’s it” grinned both ladies. “You like the big bellies.” I made an attempt to say no but before I could get the words out, both had lifted up their tops and exposed their bellies to me. I stood open mouthed unable to make a coherent sentence.

“Go ahead, touch em.” Jess offered. “They’re just baby containers. Smooth, stretched out, Shea butter oiled, tingling to the touch baby containers.” Both burst into fits of giggles. No matter what anyone thought of these 2 as mother and daughter, they were definitely more like friends or sisters.. I could also see how their story went how both of them fell pregnant at the same time at the same party. I’d dare say that Karen, when dolled up for a night out could easily pass for 20 years her junior or so.

“Another time ladies” I inwardly shook my head, I mean this sort of situation would have normally been a dream come true for someone like me, but my wife was literal walking distance away from me. “I’m here with my wife and to let you into a little secret… that sort of thing might just go beyond the ‘baby container’ simplicity for me. I’d feel guilty indulging.” The ladies giggled but offered a counter proposal from Karen;

“I’d like to meet your wife. Don’t worry we will say you are the perfect gent. Just we don’t have many friends and it would be nice to trade gyno horror stories.” I laughed but agreed.

“I’ll let her know. Send me a message when you’re going for food and I’ll see if we can meet you?”

With that we swapped messaging details and went our separate ways.

I headed back to the room to find Jodie awake again and rearranging all the stuff I unpacked. “Oh Hi babe” she announced. “Sorry, don’t know what came over me but that bed was good. Thanks for unpacking everything.” I gave her a one of those looks, with raised eyebrows as a response. “I didn’t say you had unpacked it correctly did I” she offered, fluttering her eyelashes in innocence.

After a bit of time spent pulling things from one cupboard and closet to the next, I explained the story of the 2 ladies who Jodie remembered from the port. She of course agreed to sit with them so I texted a thumbs up to Karen who sent back a smiling face and ‘see you in an hour’

Myself and Jodie wanted to get washed up before the meal so traded showers one after the other. We wanted to share one, but one thing is for certain, cruise ship showers were hardly big enough for one person, never mind two and a bump… so we settled for naked cuddles on the bed as we dried off, my hands exploring Jodie’s breasts and belly as I felt our baby kick at the attention. It got to around 20 minutes before we were due to head down and as things were starting to get spicy between us, I pleaded for us not to head down and just stay in the room explore what the bed had to offer. Jodie stared me straight down.

“I’m starving. Both me and this little cherub need a good bit of food. You don’t want hangry sex, believe me.” I laughed and accepted what she said, rolling over with a kiss to her lips. “Now help me up, I’m like a beached whale.” That was it we were both laughing at that point.

We had a slow walk down, Jodie opting to walk rather than me fetching the chair – she insisted she was pregnant, not an invalid - and met up with Karen and Jess outside the restaurant who were waiting on a chair for us. Jodie greeted them with a smiling hug – or at least as good a hug as you could get when both participants jutted out much father than is normal. We made our way in to get our food – greeted at the door by the staff member who would be serving us for the evening and took us to our table. We were seated – us on one side and those two on the other, presented with menus and made our choices. Conversation flowed – my wife the much more sociable one than me, but all 3 women got along fine. I had a retelling of the ladies back story, a bit of information on how we met and other mundane stuff. When asked if they wanted to give birth on the ship, both were very positive on the idea as long as both were together. Karen of course was hoping she could hold off until Jess had delivered as she wanted to be there for her little girl… but both were aware that babies made their own agendas. We both nodded at that.

When we were asked the same question, Jodie pondered a little while. She explained her own mum was a midwife and she was hoping that she could have delivered her first grandchild at home… but she made us promise not to give up this opportunity – as long as we got straight on the ships wifi and gave her a call so she could be there in spirit if not in person.

After a chorus of ‘Awww’s from the other ladies our first course arrived and we enjoyed what must be one of the nicest meals I ever tasted. Clean plates on the first course, and we were well into the second course when a commotion caught our attention.

One lady was dashing out if the restaurant at a pace I didn’t think a heavily pregnant women could manage, one hand clamped on her mouth the other under her belly. Looking between ourselves we presumed she had a bout of sea sickness but I recognised her as the woman who I ran into in the corridor earlier – our neighbour. When she didn’t return for the rest of the meal I suggested we knock on her door to make sure she was OK as she appeared to be there by herself – no one else followed her out of the restaurant.

We finished up the rest of the meal talking a bit afterwards and around an hour or so after the commotion, we said our goodbyes to the ladies and made our way back to the room to do our good deed of the day.

As we got out of the lift and rounded the corner to our corridor, we heard an shrill cry. Stopped momentarily we looked at each other and dashed as fast as we could towards the sound. Our neighbours door was wide open, a mobile crib outside the door. Looking in the room we were met with a sight. The lady from before facing away from us, stripped naked and bracing herself with one hand on the table and another on the back of a chair. One of the medical team was in front of her, kneeling between her legs, hands poised to catch the baby which she was evidently moments away from giving birth to.

She yelled again and squatted down a little deeper, as we both saw the face of her baby appear between her legs along with a gush of fluids. We noticed then that a rubber mat of some variety had been placed down, presumably to catch the mess. The lady from the medical team was telling her that she was doing a good job, that she was almost done, and with another yelling scream the baby slipped out from between her legs and into the waiting hands of the lady waiting to receive it.

The lady dropped down to her own knees to be handed the baby, as she rocked back on her haunches she finally came back to reality and turned to see us standing the doorway. We were caught red faced looking at her in an intimate, vulnerable moment and we were unsure what to do.

Luckily she smiled first. “Oh hi… you must be my neighbours? Sorry about the noise.”

Jodie just shook her head. “Erm… are you ok? We were just wanting to make sure that you were good after leaving the restaurant in a rush.”

The lady smiled. “I am now. Look… come in, can’t have you sitting in the corridor like that.” She was completely oblivious that she was both naked, holding a crying baby to her chest, and inviting strangers to come into her private space. Either way we did as she asked and closed the door behind us.

Over the course of the next 30 minutes or so we watched as the lady from the medical team carried out checks on the mother and baby, everything seemed fine, then cut the cord as the lady – Donna it turns out – explained to us that she had felt a bit off all day but didn’t want to risk not making it onto the boat as she’d been looking forward to it for several weeks. After she had a wave of nausea during the meal, her waters had broken on the way back to the room, and that was when she had felt the first thing close to a contraction. From there she was in full blown pushing for about 30 minutes until we came along – and the rest we knew. She called the medical team but they already announced she was at 8cm when they arrived and couldn’t be moved to the delivery suite – hence the mobile crib being brought along and her somewhat embarrassing predicament.

With that she finally realised she was naked and asked me to pass her over something to cover her up out of her wardrobe. I found a wrap that she draped over her shoulders as the lady from medical rubbed her belly and she groaned a little – giving birth to her placenta in the process. She relaxed into breastfeeding her baby as we said our goodbyes happy hormones fuelling both our spirits as we opened the door.

Just outside was Adriana and her camera team, ready to meet the mother once the medical team said they were able to. She had heard of the first baby being born on board and needed to greet the mother to congratulate her. She met me with a beaming smile and an immediate moment of recognition from when we met earlier.

“Hello again.” She beamed. “We keep on meeting where all the action happens. Maybe you are this ships good luck charm.” Jodie looked at me quizzically. I explained how I came across her and the team earlier. I introduced Jodie and Adriana gave her a similar ‘just off the cheek’ kiss like she did for me earlier. We waved our goodbyes as the door opened again, the lady from the medical team popping out the room to grab the crib and saying 10-15 minutes to Adriana and the team.

As we walked the few steps up to our room and swiped out key to get in we both burst into giggles. That was certainly an interesting day. Jodie grinned at me. “Maybe we should give them some fun noises to listen to when they’re recording?” I looked at her, instinctively knowing what she meant – her hand had been caressing my leg and knee all through dinner. Without uttering another word between us, we threw our clothes into a corner of the room, I climbed (and sank) into the bed and lay back as she crawled on top of me, her popped out belly button tracing a pattern from my crotch to my navel which sent me into a spin. As she lowered herself down onto my erection in a reverse cowgirl style, our frenzied moans and grunts rang out. My eyes following the rhythmic bouncing of her belly and breasts as she oscillated on top of me. Our climaxes were announced with joint moans, echoing within the confined space of the cabin. Who knows if we were ever caught on camera or if the rooms really were well soundproofed – we never got around to watching that interview.

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 397: Cat n Mouse, p8 (Interlude: Monkey Business)

Randi Mongillo had let herself into the side door of the building which housed what was, still, for now,  Far Horizons Medical Associates. The building was dark but it was not empty; below ground, men stirred. The lights flickered on as she strode the hallways of the old practice and made her way through it, to the main elevator in the new atrium. Once inside she punched in the code into the newly installed keypad before hitting the button for Sub-Basement 3  where all their little monkeys lived.

Randi did not want to be here, and anyone could read that off her face. In general she wasn't a big fan of being told what to do, and hated the idea of being anyone's lackey. If anyone else had asked her to leave home, drive to work at night just so they could have their own personal cleanup service she would have told them to shove it. Missy though…Missy was different. She’s dumb as a brick, don't get me wrong, Randi would tell you, but she’s also…kinda the heart of everything. Randi owed her a lot - for this job, for a lot of her own personal ‘improvements’, for her position in what looked to be shaping up into a new society  - which made it pretty hard to say no to her, even when she really wanted to. Like tonight.

I could really go for another bliss right now. Missy blowing that little fucker could really take the edge off, Randi thought just as the elevator reached its destination and the doors began to open. She’d grown used to her evenings being peppered with bliss. It would come on in waves, crashing into her and making her more, more, more every night. The echoes of that twerp making their world just a little bit better would ripple through her body as she felt him give in to his urges, give in to Melissa. It was honestly the best, and - if she had to admit it - kind of addictive.

Randi walked out into Sub-Basement 3 and through a few metal detectors before holding up her Evolution Pharmaceuticals supplied keycard and entering the door into the administrative area of ‘the Barracks.’ Randi looked out from behind bulletproof reinforced glass on to the ‘residents’ of this little ‘community’ of males (at least that was what they were calling it officially. To Randi and most of the girls, Sub-Basement 3 was “The Fap Dungeon”).

The large communal room in front of her was filled with them, men of various ages, some in their old clothes, some in the brown coveralls that had been purchased for them as a kind of simple uniform for manual laborers. They were  largely the construction workers who had been working on the expansion, with a handful of homeless and the odd pathetic loner thrown in. They were all aimlessly milling about, huddling in small groups, or watching the tv's on the walls. The teaser interview for Channel 5 had obviously been put on loop, and it was playing over and over and over again. Many couldn't keep their eyes off it. The pathetic, braindead little zombies, Randi sniggered. If she were to listen closely she might be able to hear some of them quietly moaning or whining. Some others were repeating little mantras as they watched, over and over…

Randi walked up to the microphone at the front of the security booth. Looking out into the crowd of them, she noticed that many had shaved their heads. She also knew the place was empty of any female staff. There was security that was going to be assigned here, part of the group of girls that was supposed to start next week. In the meantime, Randi figured it might be smart not to cause a riot.

But, fuck it right? I mean…where's the fun in that? If I have to be here dealing with these apes I might as well have a bit of fun with it. Give them something to really live for.

Randi hit the button to activate the intercom with an unnaturally wide and unnerving smile spread across her face.

“Hey shit stains!” Randi yelled into the intercom causing an awful howling sound as the intercom crackled to life with the power of her voice. “Yeah, I'm talking to you douchebags. I need some of you to come with me and clean up a mess outside. Any volunteers?”

Her eyes shone in amusement as she watched the group en masse, all these ‘big strong men’ shrink away from her and avert their gazes. These simps, breathing in all these artificial pheromones of Melissa’s pumped directly onto the floor were just too predictable, so easy to manipulate.

“Aww, are you guys too tired? Is going outside just too difficult? Too scary?” she asked snidely. She had used up the last drop of her patience much earlier today. Otherwise she might have at least a dollop of pity for these saps. “That’s fine. I guess I can find someone else to clean Melissa’s house.”

That got their attention.

Randi watched as all their eyes shot up. Melissa, these days, was the person they thought about the most. In fact, Randi knew she was almost all they thought about. Any man here would give his left nut just for the chance to get closer to Melissa, to be helpful to her, to be noticed. The other nut they’d save for a touch, or just a smile, but they’d give themselves willingly for this woman that was beginning to become something more than human in their eyes.

They, in fact, would do anything.

“I thought one of you would give a shit about her. Oh well, guess I'll be going now-”

“Wait!” The panicked voices of one of the men cried out as he ran forward, towards Randi’s glass enclosure. He was raising his hand. “I’ll go!”

“M-me too!”

“Me too!”

“What are you talking about?” one of them argued with the other, “Everyone knows you can't do shit! I should go.”

“Fuck you! I should go!”

Randi watched as the room erupted in an all-out brawl, each fighting for the opportunity to clean up Melissa’s little fuck session at her mom’s house while she put her boyfriend to bed. It was honestly hilarious. 

Blood was spilled and teeth were lost as they fought amongst themselves for a few minutes. Soon enough, though, Randi became bored. Watching them kick the shit out of each other was fun and all, but honestly, she just wanted to get the fuck out of here and maybe get the chance to go home and sleep.

Randi opened the reinforced door that separated the security chamber from the common area and walked into the room. She grabbed three of the men from the grand melee and pulled them out into the hallway before anyone else could notice. Then she went back in and picked off several more until she was satisfied.

“Alright you clods are it, ‘the chosen ones’,” she said, sarcasm probably lost on the doltish males in their excitement, “You,  beardy - you can drive? You’ll take one of the construction vans. They’ve got tools, right? I’ll drive in my car, you follow me. We’ll get in there, you’ll clean stuff up, and you’ll fix whatever you can.”

“Ummm…” one of them began, looking suddenly embarrassed to speak, “we’re driving by ourselves?”

Oh yeah, oh crap. Pheromones. They know they’ll need me with them. “Fine. I’ll drive the fucking van.” Means I’ll need to leave my car here. 

The men nodded appreciatively, as if excited for the opportunity.

“And, when we’re there, don't you dare make a fucking sound you hear me? She’ll be upstairs resting.  If any of you does anything to draw attention to yourselves, or disturb her,  I’ll bite your fucking head off, kick you out onto the streets myself. Got it?”

“Y-yes Ms. Mongillo,”  one of them spoke up while the others silently nodded. “t-thank you for recognizing us, and giving us the chance to-”

“Pfft-  You aren’t special, you're just the closest ones I could grab. Plus, you’re men. You’re all basically the same anyway, weak, shit for brains. Now shut up and let’s get going so maybe at some point I can go to bed.”

==========================================

sorry for the delay, tumblr. been away.

thanks to ResistanceIsFutile for writing this one; it’s really his baby.

[killed-by-choice]

“Marjorie Roe” 32 (USA ~1972)

“Marjorie” was a 32-year-old white woman admitted to a hospital to have her gallbladder out. Other than the fairly recent issues that led to doctors deciding to remove it, she had “no previous significant illnesses except for two abortions” that she had traveled to another state to undergo. (These legal induced abortions had, interestingly, been noted by doctors under the “significant illness” category.) The second abortion had been only a few weeks before Marjorie came to the hospital.

When the hospital performed a pre-op examination, Marjorie appeared to be healthy enough to undergo surgery. What the doctors didn’t realize was how strongly her recent abortion would affect her post-operative outcome.

The gallbladder (and to a lesser extent, the appendix) were confirmed to have been diseased upon removal. Marjorie began to recover and it seemed that she would be fine, but then a latent side effect of the recent abortion began to manifest. When she tried to walk, she went into respiratory distress and quickly became unresponsive. CPR failed and she died two days after what should have been a fairly uneventful surgery.

Marjorie’s autopsy, performed two hours after her death, finally revealed what was happening even before being admitted to the hospital. Her left thigh was mottled and unusually enlarged. A branched, firm clot impacted in her pulmonary conus had distended the right atrium and ventricle of her heart. The clot was analyzed and found to be a thromboembolus. She had been killed by a post-abortion pulmonary embolism. It was concluded that an occult venous thrombus had been formed before the gallbladder removal (with her recent abortion as a significant contributing factor and likely cause), which was then dislodged from her left leg and blocked the pulmonary conus.

In addition to the embolism itself, Marjorie had slight serosanguineous peritoneal effusions, congestion of the lungs and pulmonary edema. Her left ovary contained a hemorrhagic corpus luteum.

The doctors who submitted Marjorie’s case to a medical journal wrote that “The current increase in abortions necessitates specifie inquiry and careful examination in young women and probably should indicate delay of all except emergency surgery for a period of at least six months.”

[leggerefiore]

Aliens Submas. Human AFAB Reader. After the First Contact with the twins but that went badly and only the Reader survived of the crew. The Three stuck in the human space station but only because Nobori and Kudari want to make it the nest for their mate. The Twins find out about Valentine's Day and decide to celebrate it with Reader, but they don't fully understand it and it ends up as usual with those two, i.e. fucking, it doesn't matter if Reader is willing or not

Invasion

cw: 18+ content but not explicit, yandere, noncon, poly (ingo/reader, emmet/reader), alien au, death of other characters implied,

Minors DNI

sorry for lack of anything too explicit my brain just wouldn't let me write any :(

At first, your crew was confused as to how these aliens made it into your space station without being noticed by the security system.

They took on a humanoid form, but strange anomalies with tentacles sprouting out from their back alongside glowing gems in their chests made it obvious they were far from a species like your own. Your captain barked out an order to contain them. You stood back in terror, only a survey researched that was on board to investigate the far-off planets the crew was sent to explore. They were fast creatures, moving before you could even think to react.

Screams and shouts echoed throughout the room as you felt a ball of cowardice overtake you. Heavy breaths came from you as your feet pounded against the metal flooring. You dashed further and further away from the atrium, seeking out the communications room to radio out for help. This obviously was not going to end well. Hostile aliens had always been considered, but none were supposed to make their way on to the station.

Tears burned your eyes as you considered how you had just beaten off an odd cold just a few days prior. Your health had slumped after a trip to a passing comet. The medic of your crew had declared you to have simply overexerted yourself. Hiccuping, you realised you had gone the wrong way in the sprawling corridors of the station. Your quarters were nearby, however.

Quietly, you sneaked into your room and set the door to lock behind you. Crawling into the corner of the room, you gazed out the small window into the vast expanse of space outside. This place was nothing like the scenery provided by earth. Had you made the wiser choice to stay home, you would have avoided this entire situation, but you stupidly craved adventure and believed the lies of being something akin to a pioneer. Those were dumb dreams.

You tried desperately to send out a distress signal with a local communicator, but just as you pressed the button… The station's power cut out. You froze as you set in the dim room with only emergency low-power lights providing any illumination. Those aliens must have been highly intelligent. You crawled under your bed as you hoped for someone to notice the change and send for help. Your communicator's signal was cut with the loss of power.

In a desperate attempt to calm yourself, you recalled the light-hearted conversation you had with a fellow survey member. She had been giggling about a security team member asking her to spend an evening together for Valentine's Day. That seemed so long ago, despite it likely not even having been six hours away from your current time.

A loud clunking sound as heard. You froze. Another soon followed. And another… Until, your door was pried open. Glowing silvery eyes peered inside as the gem embedded in the chest of the creature worked something like an impromptu flashlight. He scanned the room carefully before stepping in with ease. You held your breath and stayed deathly still, hoping he would pass you by. Your eyes were squeezed shut, calling back to youth when 'if I can't see you, you can't see me' still applied.

Everything was still. Everything was quiet.

You opened your eyes.

The alien's gaze peered icily at you. You would have jumped had it not been for the cramped space you had hidden yourself in. His cold hand reached out to grab you, resulting in your backing away further against the wall. A sigh came from him. The mood felt wrong.

“… We will not hurt you,” his voice was gentle and eerily familiar, like something that you had once heard in a dream. Steps echoed in after him. You felt ill as he pulled you out from under the bed. The aliens gazed at you with identical expressions. Truly, they must have been a race of drones, with just how similar the two looked. One of them held a smile, while the other wore a frown. You shuddered.

What were they going to do with you, then? Were your crewmates okay? Many questions raced through your head, but none resulted in answers. The smiling one suddenly restrained your wrists and ankles with his tentacles and stepped toward you. The frowning one shook his head. “I am Emmet,” he cooed at you, “We love you.” You felt awestruck by his words.

“… That's impossible,” you retaliated, “I couldn't love creatures like you anyway.” An expression of hurt crossed Emmet's face as he turned to his counterpart.

“Those are cruel words, dearest,” the frowning one crooned, “You carried our weakened forms to health in your body, after all.” All the blood drained from your body as you felt ice-cold. The heating system was down, too.

“Mmm… Ingo,” Emmet turned to his brother, “I still don't think this place is a desirable nest. Not at all.” Ingo nodded at his twin's words. You felt completely numb. Nest? Were they planning on turning this place into a breeding ground? How did they reproduce? “Naughty thoughts,” he giggled at you and pressed you against the bed, “Brother, I verrrrry much want to convert this place into a proper nest, buuuut my brain wants to go on with the 'Valentine's Day activities'.” Everything felt more and more confusing.

“Are you telepathic?” you tried to get an answer. Emmet shook his head with a playful grin.

“I am in your brain,” he whispered into your ear, “I learnt this language from you and made sure to take on a form you found appealing.” You shivered when his lips pressed to your ear before moving to your jaw. His brother stood stiffly, watching you both with mild annoyance.

“... I will check that all other life forms have been truly eliminated,” Ingo spoke with a cool, authoritative tone, “After confirming, I will return power. I worry this temperature will be inhabitable by our mate.” Emmet pulled away from the skin of your neck he was sucking at to nod at his brother. The twin stepped away and left you alone in the dim room with the smiling alien on top of you. He licked his lips.

“We discovered how to make imitations of human male gametes with our genetic code,” Emmet cooed, “Valentine's Day is about breeding, yes?” You felt horrified as he moved to unzip your bodysuit. “We are so verrrrry lucky you took us from that comet,” he began to press kisses across your exposed chest and down to your navel, “We will give you everything.” You wanted to cry, scream, anything, but instead you pondered something.

“... Why not just take me?” you asked.

“We wanted you to have a nest you would enjoy,” he replied as he slid off the bottom half of your suit, “You love this place. And our home planet would not accept you.” You shivered his another one of his tentacles freed itself to rub between your legs pleasurably. You moaned loudly. Another giggle came from him. “I know you are into aliens, too.”

You wished you had not read and watched some much xenophilic content in the past. It was impossible to deny that you would have been interested in them had they not attacked your crew as they had. You could only swallow.

“Happy Valentine's Day!”

A moan left you as the tentacle entered you.

~

You watched as another rescue ship met a quick end at the hand of your station. It had changed quite a bit since you first arrived here. The only human on board was you, but there were many, many aliens. Emmet hummed in annoyance as they called for backup. Ingo took to trying to comfort your upset son. They had begun remodelling the ship to better fit your tastes. It resembled a human home more than a research station now.

You leaned back down, going back to your card game with your daughter. These changes had long since been accepted by you. Everything that happened was your fault, after all. If you had not brought these alien invaders into the station, none of this would have happened. Sighing, you caught Emmet's gaze on you again.

It was impossible to leave, your many failed attempts only showed they were truly a part of you. Everything was easier now than it had ever been before. Your daughter, however, turned to Emmet with big pleading eyes.

“When do I get a mate?”