#Concurrent Medications

[gammaraydeath]

i will literally NEVER learn my lesson and will continue signing up for classes super late so that i can't get into the ones that i need

[eirianerisdar]

A woman got angry and started shouting in the clinic lobby today because she saw me, a doctor, leaving after finishing work, and she was the final patient of the day for another doctor who had yet to call her in

Shoutout to the healthcare assistant who asked her what room her ticket number was and then laughed in her face and said, "What's that got to do with you? Doctors leave when they finish seeing patients."

Karen thought nobody could leave until she was seen despite there being five other doctors in the clinic this afternoon apart from hers

[coochiequeens]

Gay men and the wealthy are no longer content to exploit one woman now exploiting two at the same is becoming trendy

Why have one baby when you can have 2? People are paying $500,000 to hire 2 surrogates at once and have 'twiblings'

By Kelsey Vlamis  Jul 16, 2024, 3:04 PM EDT

Some people are hiring two surrogates at the same time to carry their babies.

Concurrent surrogacy can be complicated and costly, with prices reaching up to $500,000 or more.

Many people who do it are in their 40s and trying to build out their family quickly.

Bill Houghton still vividly remembers the moment he met his son.

He was sitting in the hospital waiting room, right outside the birthing room, when a nurse appeared carrying a little green bundle.

"I just held him in my arms and just started crying. It was so overwhelming. My husband was like, 'Oh my God, I can't believe that this is it. We're a family,'" Houghton told Business Insider. "This is my son."

Just one week later, Houghton and his husband would have the same experience all over again when their second child, another son, was delivered.

"And it has been like that ever since," he said. "To this day, I still look at them and I think, 'Oh my God, these are my sons.' My father had sons. I never thought that I would have a son."

Houghton and his husband opted to become parents via concurrent surrogacy — a process in which two surrogates are hired to carry two babies at the same, or overlapping, time.

The resulting children can be born anywhere from one week apart, like Houghton's, to nine months apart, and have been referred to by some people in the industry as "tandem siblings" or "twiblings."

Surrogacy agencies told BI that concurrent surrogacy journeys are not uncommon, with some saying it's a rising trend in a growing industry that was valued at $14 billion in 2022 by Global Market Insights and has attracted the investments of private equity firms.

All kinds of people — couples or singles, straight or gay, young or old — have opted to build out their family two at a time via concurrent surrogacy. But there is one thing that most parents of twiblings have in common: the ability to afford them.

While Houghton hired surrogates abroad, couples who choose to go through US-based agencies can easily spend $300,000 to half a million dollars or more on concurrent surrogates, according to five surrogacy agencies that spoke to BI.

"It is a luxury, absolutely," Brooke Kimbrough, cofounder and CEO of Roots Surrogacy, told BI. "Most American families don't have $200,000 in cash to go through surrogacy generally, and then $400,000-plus in cash to be able to go through that twice at the same time."

Still, the use of concurrent surrogates could grow as surrogacy generally grows in the US, in part because celebrities like Kim Kardashian and Chrissy Teigen have started opening up about using surrogates, as well as depictions in film and TV that have made the practice more mainstream. Teigen was even pregnant at the same time as her surrogate.

Surrogacy is also becoming increasingly relevant as more and more people are opting to have kids and start building their families later in life.

Chrissy Teigen and John Legend have opened up about using a surrogate. Dimitrios Kambouris/Getty Images for Sports Illustrated Swimsuit

Concurrent surrogacy can help build a family quickly

Concurrent journeys typically look like regular surrogacy journeys, just times two. Gestational surrogacy, when IVF is used to place a fertilized embryo into a surrogate, is the most common form of surrogacy in the US today. Parents can use their own egg and sperm or that of donors.

Like many gay couples, Houghton and his husband each used their sperm for one of the babies, as well as the same egg donor, so their sons are technically half brothers.

While there has been increased awareness around what some call "social surrogacy" — using a surrogate when it's not medically or biologically necessary — the majority of people who conceive via surrogacy do so because they have to.

"Typically, when people come to us, they've been through a lot. This is not their plan A, it's often not plan B, maybe it's plan C," Kim Bergman, a psychologist and senior partner at Growing Generations, told BI. "They've had a lot of disappointment, and they've had a lot of trials and tribulations."

Many hopeful parents are in their 40s and are simply eager to build their families, the agencies said. A surrogacy journey can easily take one and a half to two years, so for intended parents who know they want multiple kids, concurrent surrogates can be appealing.

Certainly, some people who opt for concurrent surrogates do not fit the definition of medically necessary, at least according to the standards laid out by the American Society for Reproductive Medicine (ASRM).

Some people have mental health reasons or a fear of giving birth. Others are actors or brain surgeons who spend 12 hours a day on their feet and who can't get pregnant and continue to do their jobs. All the surrogacy agencies BI spoke with said it's essentially never the case that someone opts for surrogacy simply for vanity reasons.

David Sher, founder and CEO of Elite IVF, told BI they've helped coordinate surrogates for celebrities, politicians, and people in demanding careers like finance or tech. He said he currently has a client who serves on the cabinet of a Western country and is trying to have a baby via surrogate in part due to her demanding schedule.

Sher said he thinks concurrent surrogacy has long been an option for intended parents but that there does seem to be an uptick in people who are opting to do it.

Part of the reason for that could be because fewer and fewer agencies are willing to do double embryo transfers, which were previously more common and could result in a twin pregnancy. The ASRM recommends against them, as twin pregnancies come with heightened risks for both the surrogate and the babies. So concurrent surrogacy is a safer option for intended parents who want to have two kids at the same time or in close succession.

Costly and complicated

Though it's viewed as a safer option, concurrent surrogacy is controversial. The ASRM guidelines actually recommend against concurrent surrogacy, as well as against social, or not medically necessary, surrogacy. But all five surrogacy agencies that BI spoke to will facilitate concurrent surrogacies.

The agencies said they've seen many concurrent surrogacy journeys be successful and that a lot of care and prior planning goes into making them happen.

"It's not taken lightly," Bergman said, adding that concurrent journeys are rarely chosen by 30-year-olds who have plenty of time to build their families, though that does occasionally happen.

Surrogacy, in general, is expensive — commonly ranging from $150,000 to $250,000 for one child. The costs go toward surrogate compensation, agency fees, legal fees for contracts, and clinical bills.

The agencies BI spoke with said a concurrent surrogacy journey would essentially cost twice that. Meaning there's no two-for-one special.

But cost isn't the only factor to consider. Perhaps the primary drawback to pursuing concurrent surrogacy (that is, besides the high price tag) is the logistics of it.

All the agencies emphasized that concurrent surrogacy should only be pursued with full transparency and the fully informed consent of every person involved. That means matching intended parents to surrogates who are fully aware and OK with the fact that they will not be the only surrogate.

Gestational surrogacy, in which a fertilized embryo is implanted in a surrogate, is most common in the US. Jay L. Clendenin/for The Washington Post/Getty Images

There's also tons of planning and talking through hypotheticals. Are the surrogates based in the same area? Can the parents attend both births? Are we staggering expected delivery times enough? What's the plan if one surrogate gets pregnant on the first try but the other doesn't?

There's also a psychological aspect. Will both surrogates feel fully supported? How will one feel if she doesn't get pregnant right away and the other does?

"All of these conversations are front-loaded. Anytime in the conversation, the surrogate can say, 'I'm not comfortable doing this,'" Bergman said, adding that sometimes, after thinking through the logistics, some parents will change their minds and plan to space the deliveries out further than they initially wanted, like to six or nine months.

Most agencies recommended staggering the planned deliveries by at least three months. But at the end of the day, parents need to be ready for the timeline to not go exactly as planned.

Houghton and his husband had actually planned to have their babies six weeks apart, but when one of the babies was born five weeks premature, they ended up with birthdays one week apart.

Concurrent surrogacy may not be for everyone — even if you can afford it

Although the cost of concurrent surrogacy makes it prohibitive for most people, that could change in the future as more and more companies expand their fertility benefits.

There are also more nonprofits popping up that will provide grants or partial funds to people who want to build their families via surrogacy but may not have the means to.

Jarret Zafran, founder and executive director at Brownstone Surrogacy, told BI that it's not necessarily only the ultrawealthy who pursue concurrent surrogacy. He said he currently has clients who are lifelong educators on the older side who are getting ready to start the surrogacy process. They recently asked about what it would look like for them to do a concurrent journey.

"I guess it is still a luxury in the sense that most Americans would not even be in a financial position to afford it the first time," Zafran, who also had a child with his husband through surrogacy, said. "But for them, this is not a frivolous decision, and they're scraping together every single little penny that they have, all of their savings, their retirement funds, and I get it."

By using surrogates abroad over a decade ago, Houghton and his husband, who are based in Spain, spent much less on their concurrent surrogates than they would have in the US. But he's still not totally sure why they chose to do concurrent journeys rather than space the children out a bit more.

"We just liked the idea of having two kids that were about the same age that would sort of grow up together," he said, adding, "I didn't realize at the time the challenges that would come with having two kids."

In reality, he said having the two boys grow up so close together in age, not twins but in the same class in school, ended up leading to a lot of conflict and constant competition as they were growing up. He said it has gotten better now that the boys are facing their teen years and developing their own identities.

Still, if he could do it over again, he thinks he would stagger them more.

"They're unbelievable young men, and I'm so proud of everything about them," he said. "But having the two together has been a challenge."

Have a news tip or a story to share about concurrent surrogacy? Contact this reporter at kvlamis@businessinsider.com.

If a brain surgeon or politician can't do their job while pregnant have they thought about how kids in general will impact their job? What if their kid wakes them up the night before surgery because they got of had a nightmare? Are they counting on a reliable spouse or a nanny to take care to the unpleasant parts of parenting.

Finally at the very end of the article they address how being born so close together impacts kids. We're they really surprised that there was a lot of competition? And they article just touched on how one of the twins was born 5 weeks premature. That means at one week old the dudes in charge of its care were focused on its twibling. Considering that surrogacy pregnancies are more likely to have complications do the parents consider how they will care for one baby while another baby is in the hospital longer than expected?

[holocene-sims]

five oc facts

@sparkiekong tagged me a VERY veryyyyy long time ago and i'm just now getting to this tag months later (i'm so sorry 😭)

i'll tag: @thebramblewood @mangosimoothie @queeniecook @stargazer-sims @dandylion240 @jonquilyst 🤍

i just did a similar prompt for áine, who is this sim's niece, so how about facts for cathal? he's also a newbie to my sims universe, and i adore him and his personality tbh, but canon reasons make it hard for him to be included too much outside of random simblr posts like this

he is WILDLY younger than all his other siblings (like by 20 years) and was a total surprise baby. really, he's kind of a medical miracle because he was born after his mother went into menopause and was in her 40s, and no one knew he even existed until he randomly sprang into the world one august morning lmfao 💀

i think i mentioned it in one post but he's been a vegetarian for most of his life! actually, he declared himself a vegan when he was, like, six years old; he figured out what eggs and meat really were and then refused to eat animal products for decades. much to his dismay, he did have to introduce eggs and milk and whatnot back into his diet when he ran into a few nutritional deficiencies from veganism, but he's made his peace with being a vegetarian instead 🥦

he 100% does not remember his father outside of what he looked like. his dad (and aoife's younger brother) died very abruptly and super young of a heart attack when cathal was maybe three or so, and it's something that really nags at him. he's well aware there's nothing he can do about it, but he feels some strange mix of bad emotions that he never experienced a father-son bond, and that makes him 100x as serious about being a good father who'll be around a LONG time and just generally treating anyone younger than him well. he doesn't want anyone else feeling that type of loss 🥲

he actually writes an agricultural column in the local online newspaper and contributes to the county farmer's almanac lol. his big shtick is sustainability in agriculture and how new green technologies should be combined with traditional cultural approaches to the land so the earth doesn't die in, like, 10 years from excessive carbon emissions 🍃💚

he met his wife yvonne in a ballroom dance class! he was just bored one day in college and went to the class to do something new, and he immediately developed the biggest crush on the instructor. he just kept going back every week until he was brave enough to ask her out, and when he did, they hit it off. oh, and this is totally their thing - he has quite literally taken her dancing every weekend since they got together 😭😭😭

[forumkedis]

Since I update so sporadically (and haven’t actually ever linked to it, despite vagueblogging it constantly), I thought I’d mention that I updated Austen’s Aldish Abomination this evening.

She’s a queer beast of a thing, currently sitting pretty at 67k words and just having tied up the first arc with a pretty, wedding-shaped bow. I’m about to dive into the second half of the adventure (?)

If anyone is looking for a slow burn romance and setting exploration in Alderode, I submit This, but please beware untagged warnings for just about anything Unsounded might be warned for and the mind the tagged gore.

[creepyscritches]

Thinking of starting a betting pool with other professionals on if we're going to get guidelines on the chapter 3 diseases of blood/blood-forming organs + certain disorders around the immune mechanism BEFORE the 10 year mark of the USA using this ICD version

Literally had a footnote here for 8 years saying we prommy we'll give guidelines 🥺

All I can say is I'm relieved to not have stayed exclusively oncology. How do you argue a diagnosis when there's nothing to use as defence/support 🤡

[dippdots]

There gotta be something else wrong with me because wtf is this

[yamneko]

I'm so annoyed with this provider.

Can't take things in omhx as support for current dx - also cancer needs more support than "has hx of cancer" k cool! That's a z-code status and not an active cancer code then! Saying they have cancer active 2022 is also not enough even if it wasn't pmhx

[macgyvermedical]

I encountered a drug called "Dextromethorphan" when looking up things that react with grapefruits for a fic. I found out it's been banned in Sweden since the 90s, so I couldn't use it for this specific story, but if you've got any interesting history I'd be happy so know!

Are you ready for this? Like. Ask yourself. Are you really ready for this?

In 1954, a researcher with the US Public Health Service received $282,215 (1954 dollars) from the US Navy, ostensibly to find a non-addictive alternative to an opiate drug called codeine (used for pain and and as a cough suppressant).

So the researcher found a bunch of people who had substance abuse disorder and tested 800 substances on them, trying to find ones that couldn't cause physical or psychological dependence, even on people who were prone to that sort of thing.

(Now, you might be asking if this experiment was ethical. The USPHS was concurrently doing the infamous Tuskegee Syphilis Study, so while I couldn't find any concrete answer, imma guess no.)

Out of these 800 tested substances, we use 3 today: propoxyphene (used as a painkiller), diphenoxylate (used as a diarrhea medication), and dextromethophan (a cough suppressant (and, as of 2022, part of a fast-acting antidepressant)).

Importantly, it was later noted that all of these are addictive substances and today most of them require a prescription. Though depending on where you are in the world, you might just have to be over 21 and show an ID.

You might think this sounds like a pretty standard story.

You would be wrong.

Because while the US Navy was the one handing the money to the USPHS, the US Navy had come by it via the Central Intelligence Agency.

Yes. The good ol' CIA.

So what stake did the CIA have in a non-addictive codeine replacement? Nothing, it turns out. That's just what they'd told the US Navy. What they really wanted was an incapacitant- a drug that causes incapacitation like unconsciousness or continuous hallucinations- without killing. Incapacitants are also useful for discrediting prominent political figures by making them look like they have severe mental health concerns, which was another reason the CIA wanted them.

This was part of a project called MKPILOT.

And wouldn't you like to know which of the three listed above they liked the most? Dextromethorphan. Because at high doses it causes severe- and incapacitating- hallucinations (this is also why it is banned in Sweden).

The problem with it is that it requires really, really high doses (about 3 grams, which would have to be packaged in some other substrate)- this would make it difficult to slip into a drink or food.

(It should be noted that around the same time, the US Army was doing research into a much more usable incapacitant called 3-Quinuclidinyl Benzilate which required as little as 150mg of the substance to be useful- it was featured in a MacGyver episode and I did a nice little review of it here. While I have no sources that say the CIA was directly involved in funding this, based on their extensive funding of similar DoD projects at the time, they probably did.)

But you wanted to know about how grapefruit interacts with dextromethorphan:

A substance in grapefruit (along with seville oranges, limes, pomelos, and possibly pomegranates) blocks the pathway by which many drugs are metabolized in the liver. This causes the levels of drug in the body to be much higher than expected. In the case of dextromethorphan in particular, it can mean that the drug stays in the body a lot longer- up to 24 hours instead of the usual 3-4 hours. It can also make side effects and toxic effects significantly worse, leading to hallucinations and sedation, even at low doses normally used for coughing.

[morbidology]

On October 26, 2001, a tragic incident in Fort Worth, Texas, led to the death of 37-year-old Gregory Glenn Biggs. Biggs was a homeless man battling mental health issues but was striving to improve his life. That night, he was struck by 25-year-old nursing assistant Chante Jawan Mallard while she was allegedly intoxicated.

Mallard’s Chevrolet Cavalier hit Biggs with such force that his body became lodged in the windshield. Instead of stopping and offering and offering assistance, Mallard instead drove home with Biggs still trapped in her car. She parked in her garage and left him there without seeking any medical help.

Over the next two to three days, Biggs remained stuck in the windshield while Mallard occasionally checked on him. Sadly, Biggs died from his injuries, injuries experts later testified he could have survived if given medical attention.

Instead of calling for help, Mallard contacted her friend Clete Jackson, and with the assistance of Jackson’s cousin, Herbert Tyrone Cleveland, they disposed of Biggs’s body in a park. The trio was later convicted of tampering with evidence after attempting to cover up the crime, even setting fire to parts of the vehicle.

Mallard's crime went undiscovered for months until she was overheard laughing about the incident at a party, which led to her arrest and subsequent trial. During the trial, medical experts testified that Biggs could have survived had Mallard sought medical attention.

On June 23, 2003, Mallard was convicted of murder and sentenced to 50 years in prison. She also received a concurrent 10-year sentence for tampering with evidence and will be eligible for parole in 2027.

The case had lasting repercussions, especially for Biggs's family. His son, Brandon, later forgave Mallard and even received a scholarship from inmates across the country in honor of his father.

[alizha]

𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 '𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉 | 𝑷𝒐𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 | 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕

Rating: E Word Count: 6,969 (nice) Tags: nsfw, f/m, friends to lovers, porn with plot, sex pollen, cunnilingus, piv sex

Summary: Your lives run concurrent to each other for nearly ten years. What's it going to take to break out of the push and pull of your attraction to Poe Dameron?

masterlist | cross posted to ao3

You’re eighteen the first time you ever see Poe Dameron. The way people talk about him, you’d think he was some sort of mythical creature. A manticore or a phoenix, like the one in the stylized New Republic insignia on your sleeve.

Hosnian Prime is a hostile world that you’ve just entered. It’s not scorching and dry or filled with poisonous gas, but it is cold and sterile and filled with ruthless cutthroats. Except they’re really just young people your own age who would do anything to get ahead of the competition in the medical academy. Because you’re all already competing with the surgical droids, diagnostic scanners, and a whole host of medical AIs.

The flight academy is also on Hosnian Prime, and it seems every girl in your year is familiar with the name Poe Dameron.

He’s twenty-one. You can’t even remember the first time you heard his name. Though you get the peculiar feeling that he must have some character flaws that all the secondhand accounts fail to mention in between all that talk about his skills and his looks.

It happens on neither a notable day nor at a notable time. He’s at the river walk with his friends, you’re on a stroll with a group of your fellow medcorps privates.

“That’s him. Poe Dameron,” they whisper. “He’s one of Antilles’ best. Mother was a Rebel hero.”

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you glance up as you pass him. For a brief moment, you’re looking at Poe Dameron, and he’s looking at you. Then, the moment is gone, and you don’t think about him again for as long as his reputation will let you.

❖ ❖ ❖

When you graduate from the academy and fully enter the New Republic service, there’s only a handful of your classmates left. The transfer from the academy to the naval base on Hosnian Prime is trying to say the least. Longer hours, smaller rooms, and more noise.

And Poe Dameron is there. He’s twenty-three and you’re twenty. The mess hall cheers when he walks through the doors.

“He’s so impressive, isn’t he?” a former classmate to your left titters. Her mouth forms into a frown when she sees your blank expression. “Come on. He’s just been promoted. Commander of his own squadron.”

“And he’s so young,” another girl adds.

There’s no way of expressing how insignificant any of this is to you without sounding bitter. So, you settle on saying, “Good for him,” in the most neutral tone you can conjure.

When you’re at blaster practice a few days later (because even though you joined the Navy to become a doctor, you’re still expected to learn how to defend yourself), Poe Dameron is at the shooting range. One gallery over with a couple of his pilot buddies. You don’t know who the officer on duty is, but they must be friends with Dameron because no one says anything about the ruckus they’re causing.

You hear their boisterous laughter, snippets of their conversation: “Blasted into oblivion… Flew circles around them… Told ‘em to punch it!” It dulls your concentration and makes you grit your teeth.

Shoulders back, feet apart. Hold the blaster like you’re not letting anyone take it from you. Breathe.

You squeeze the trigger, and in rapid succession, you hit all your targets. The sound of the blaster fire overtakes the hum of their laughter, and the conversation fizzles out. It isn’t until you lower your blaster that you realize the range has finally gone silent.

“Nice shot!” Dameron’s voice breaks the silence.

You turn to look at him, but he’s already scurrying out of the gallery, pulled along by his friends.

The rest of his time at the Hosnian Prime base, the two of you barely speak. There are only occasional nods and brief ‘good mornings’ as you pass each other in the halls. And then, in a month’s time, he’s gone. Deployed to some space station on some important mission. Inconsequentially, life goes on.

❖ ❖ ❖

Mirrin Prime is your first and only foreign duty station. The last of your classmates are gone—scattered across the galaxy at other New Republic bases or space stations. Luckily, being in the service creates a shared experience that is good for fostering a quick sense of camaraderie.

The medcorps seniors take you under their wing. They show you the ropes, teach you the best places on base to study, and take you to the local hotspots. There’s one bar most of the New Republic service members seem to prefer, tucked away on the basement floor of a building in the seaport district.

Poe Dameron’s squadron has been stationed at Mirrin Prime for over a year already, and you would have had to be living under a rock to not know it. He’s twenty-six, and you’re just about to turn twenty-three.

He’s always been this famed figure, fawned after by all, but now his reputation seems larger than life. The ace pilot, made commander in his early twenties, with somebody different on his arm every week. You scoff, despite yourself.

“What?” Miri asks. “It’s true. He could have practically anyone in this bar.”

“Then, he’s a bigger sleazeball than I thought,” you mutter under your breath. Getting into this with your friend isn’t really something you wanted to do. So, you try to laugh it off. You just don’t understand the fascination.

One night, he’s at the bar at the same time as you, and to your utter bewilderment, he slides into the stool beside you while Miri and Kryscha are getting more drinks. You’re about to tell him the seat is taken when he opens his mouth.

“Lemme guess, they don’t serve swill like this to rich girls like you on whatever Core World planet you’re from.”

His voice is smooth as Corellian whiskey. And paired with that playful look, you almost don’t hear him at all. It’s the first time your eyes and his meet so directly. But after a moment, your brain processes his words. You refuse to let him see you speechless.

“I’m from Taanab.”

One corner of his mouth quirks up. “Close enough. I’m Poe Dameron, by the way.”

“I know who you are.” Then, after a beat, you realize you should reciprocate. “I’m—”

“I know who you are,” he says, interrupting you cheekily. “I remember you from Hosnian Prime.”

When your friends return, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of Poe Dameron at their table, he invites the three of you to join him and his friends. You pass for tonight, but Miri and Kryscha are happy enough to go along with them. You can’t pass forever, though, and when your friends all start to invite you out for the chance to have a drink with Poe Dameron, commander of Rapier Squadron, you start to cave.

That’s how your acquaintance with Poe Dameron begins. More and more each time you meet, you’re convinced all the high praise he receives is just a bunch of hot air. He’s really just a cocky flyboy with a lot of reckless tendencies and dumb luck.

He proves your point a few months later when he’s brought into the medbay after a nasty crash, and you’re the medic on call. You can’t help the way you storm in, heart beating in your throat in anticipation of the chewing out you were planning on giving him.

And no, it’s not because you’re mad at him for inviting Kryscha out on that date last week. It’s not envy you feel swelling in the pit of your stomach. It’s frustration that Poe thinks he’s too good to best, too good to get himself killed.

“Hey, you,” he says weakly when he sees you walk in, and the scolding you prepared dies on your tongue.

You patch him up roughly, tie his bandages on a little too tight. He squirms beneath the undue strength of your hands, even stifles a few groans and covers them up with a chuckle.

“I can’t tell if you’re mad at me or if you’re getting some sort of weird pleasure out of this.”

“Please.” You fix him with your scowl. “Don’t joke about this. You’re lucky you look worse than you actually are.”

“Will my looks be spared, you think?” He hisses as you pat the scrape along his cheekbone with bacta.

“It’s a long shot, but I think they’ll survive.”

That’s the closest you’ve ever come to admitting Poe Dameron is an attractive man. Even now, you’re inches away from his face, his bloodied shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor, and your fingers hover over the musculature of his bared shoulder. All the evidence you need right in front of you, and you still won’t say it outright.

The months roll by, and all the while, the ever-expanding shadow of the First Order looms over the New Republic. Miri is deployed on a diplomatic mission alongside Rapier Squadron and comes back with stories about Poe that sound a little intimate. But you think you’re reading too much into it until Miri starts grabbing drinks after work with Poe alone.

❖ ❖ ❖

When Poe’s rotation at Mirrin Prime is nearly complete, he’s twenty-eight. You’re twenty-five.

He’s angrier than he used to be. Still flippant, but there’s an undercurrent of unrest in his voice when he speaks up about the New Republic’s leniency toward the First Order. He clenches his jaw and patrols trade lanes in the sector when what he wants is to be daring.

He gets his chance when one of those routine patrols goes sideways. Apparently, his droid picks up a distress call from a hijacked freighter he’s been tracking. Four Rapiers engage. Only three return.

You finally get the holocall you’ve been expecting. Poe Dameron is waiting for you in the medbay. His head got dinged sometime during the engagement over Suraz.

“I was being careful. I promise.”

He says it for your benefit, but it rings like a lie. You gently move aside his dark curls to apply bacta to his stitches.

“So you’re not going to do anything stupid?”

Poe cracks a grin at that, suppressing the wince that results from the coolness of the bacta against his warm scalp. “Now, why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.” You’re too tired to think of something witty right now, so you pass that off for him to do.

“Why don’t we make a wager? If I come back alive from whatever it is I’m about to do, you go out for a drink with me.”

Your fingers stiffen up, and you quickly withdraw your hands to your sides. Even when you’re expecting something crazy to come out of his mouth, Poe still manages to surprise you.

“No, thank you.”

You turn to wash your hands and gather your things, and he lets you leave without another word. When you mention the short encounter to your friends at supper, unnerved and quite frankly a little angry that her friend, Poe Dameron, would deign to ask her to have a drink with him, they burst out into uncontrollable laughter. As if nobody in their right mind would relate to how you feel about it.

“Seriously? So, you turned him down then,” Miri asks.

“Of course.”

She shakes her head like you’re being ridiculous. “You don’t have to spare my feelings. It’s not like we were ever anything serious.”

“It’s not that,” you insist.

“Then, what is it?”

You close your mouth with a snap. There’s an answer waiting on your lips, but you’re afraid that it’ll sound like you’re being judgy. You simply do not want to be another person to fall over themselves trying to spend a night with Poe Dameron. Your refusal would likely do little to temper his ego in the long run, but it was really just about the principle of the thing.

When Poe disappears, not long after your conversation in the medbay, you can’t even be surprised. Command is furious. His squadron mates are brought in for questioning.

In the midst of the confusion, you’re sent with a different squadron on a mission to a space station in the mid rim. A hologram message from Miri fills you in. Poe has returned and been detained.

By the time you return from your mission, he’s gone without so much as a note, along with what was left of his squadron. There are rumors he’s joined the splinter group of the New Republic led by General Leia Organa.

❖ ❖ ❖

It’s not long after your twenty-seventh birthday that you and a few of your fellow medics decide to defect to the Resistance too. You’d heard Poe landed his own command of an entire attack wing in the Resistance.

Sure enough, one of your first missions sees you working with a few pilots from one of his squadrons. He’s just gotten back from one of his own operations and is there to personally brief his men. His lips quirk up at the corners when he spots you approaching.

“This one’s trouble, so keep an eye on her,” he says teasingly. “Make sure everything’s in order before you head out.”

He dismisses the pilots to finish prepping and turns to look you over like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. You bite back the acid that threatens to spew out of your mouth at him for leaving without a word.

“Been a while. How you doing, sweetheart?”

No, he doesn’t get to do that. “I have to go, Dameron. They’re waiting for me.”

You go to shove past, but he stops you with a large hand on your shoulder. Looking at him this close reveals shallow lines of age at the corners of his eyes and the plane of his forehead, eyes sunken in, and a hollowness to his cheeks that you never noticed before. Nearly a decade has slipped by without you even realizing it.

“It’s good to have you on board.” He says it with an authenticity that he reserves for serious occasions, few and far between.

You answer with a nod, and he releases you. He waits and watches from the hangar until your ship makes the jump to hyperspace.

❖ ❖ ❖

The sound of blaster fire rings in your ears as you sprint through the unfamiliar hangar, an insistent hand on the small of your back pressing you on as you swerve to avoid stacks of cargo and startled droids. You want to turn around and snap at the man the hand is attached to, but the situation you find yourself in is a little too precarious for personal gripes.

“Shouldn’t we go back and help?!” you yell over the twangs of ricocheted shots on metal.

“No time!” Poe says as he ushers you into the cramped cockpit of the light freighter he’d flown you in on. “Besides, we’re the ones they’re after. I need to get you out of here.”

“But—”

The words you were about to speak fade away under the roar of the ship’s engines. You barely have time to throw your bag onto the floor and slip on your headset before Poe launches the ship out of the hangar. He narrowly avoids scraping the ship against the edge of the entrance on the way out.

“Kriff! The only thing I need protecting from out here is you!” you shout, grappling for a hold of something to keep yourself steady as you struggle to strap into your seat. The high-pitched sound of two TIE fighters screeches behind, followed by more blaster fire.

“You sure about that?” he retorts, sending the ship into an evasive dive.

You’re pretty sure Poe stalls for as long as he can to show off a few of his flashy maneuvers to no one in particular, hooting victoriously in his usual self-satisfied manner after each one. Finally, he lines up a shot and takes out both enemy fighters in quick succession.

“Did you see that?!” Poe cries.

You fight the urge to let out a frustrated scream. “We didn’t have time to go back and help, but you somehow had time for that? Honestly, Dameron, just get us the hell out of here!”

“Okay, okay,” he says, finally punching in the proper coordinates to make the jump to hyperspace. Once you’re hurtling through the familiar blue tunnel, you breathe a small sigh of relief and relax the tense muscles of your shoulders.

“Aw, stop your pouting, Doc. We made it out in one piece, didn’t we?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I wouldn’t call losing an entire shipment of medical supplies a win.”

That purchase had taken weeks to set up and cost the Resistance a not-insignificant sum. Kalonia was gonna kill you.

“It wasn’t worth the risk. You’re more valuable than a bunch of bacta and synthplast,” Poe says.

From anyone else, those words would have sounded like a compliment. But this is Poe Dameron, and taking harebrained risks is almost second nature to him. The unexpectedly charitable comment rolls off you like water off an airtight seal. It takes a lot of restraint to hold in a scoff, but you’ve had plenty of practice.

He’s always been impossible.

“Didn’t you manage to salvage a few things?” Poe jerks his head toward your discarded bag. You’d only had enough time to shove a few handfuls of supplies into it without checking what you were taking once the shooting started.

“A few bandages and some pain medicine? Regardless, we should have gone back and helped,” you mutter, folding your arms across your chest. “Not just for the supplies. We were meant to refuel before heading back.”

“Don’t sulk. It’ll be fine. And I’ll put in a good word with the major for you,” Poe says.

And with that, your self-control falters. You let out a short laugh. As if he were so important that his word would do anything to lessen the failure of your mission.

“No, thank you. I think I’m good,” you bite out at him.

He pauses to scrutinize you pensively. “I honestly thought you were just having a bad day, but you really don’t like me, do you? I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to realize it.”

A bad day, he says. That’s one way to describe it. But his accusation finally catches you off guard and you sputter a bit.

“A-are you sure you’re not just used to getting special treatment from everyone else?”

He shakes his head. “Look, it’s okay. I know I’m not everybody’s cup of tea.” He lapses for a moment, thoughtful, then adds, “I mean, I’m most people’s. But not yours. There’s no accounting for taste, but I respect your opinion.”

You groan quietly and dig the heels of your palms into your eyes. He’s teasing you. Or he isn’t, and he’s disguising a genuine wound behind a glib attitude. Part of you doesn’t wish to know which is true, so you unstrap yourself from your seat and hoist yourself up onto your feet.

“I can never tell if you’re screwing with me,” you mutter as you duck out of the cockpit and shut the door behind you.

You’re not running away. You’re not. You’re just tired and overwrought from this mission. It’s going to be a few hours before the ship reaches D’Qar, so you might as well try to relax. Luckily, there’s a space in the main hull for you to put up your feet. And although you’re not looking for it, you fall expeditiously into an uneasy sleep.

❖ ❖ ❖

The feeling of the starship lurching out of hyperspace jerks you awake. Even though you’re groggy from your nap, you know it’s too soon for the ship to have reached the Ileenium system already. You stretch out your arms and get to your feet.

“Poe?”

He doesn’t look up at you as you squeeze back into the cockpit. His focus is fixed on the nav computer, brows knitted and his lower lip drawn into a soft bite between his teeth. There’s an ever-growing sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Poe, what’s going on?” you ask carefully.

“We, uh…” He chuckles sheepishly. “We ran out of fuel.”

“What?”

“Now, you don’t have to say ‘I told you so.’ I admit, we should have fueled up before we left.”

“You think?”

Poe finally turns to meet your furious gaze with those big brown eyes of his, exuding innocence. “In my defense, I was trying to save our lives.”

At this point, you’re trying your best not to smack yourself in the forehead in frustration. First, you fail to complete your mission. Now, you were going to need rescuing on top of that.

“Okay, what do we do now? Did you get in touch with the base?” You don’t even know why you’re making such an effort to keep your voice steady and calm.

“Great question,” Poe says in a chipper tone that puts you on edge. “We’re getting picked up by a New Republic patrol. They should be here in just a couple hours.”

Maker, you knew what that meant. It meant the Resistance couldn't spare a ship to pick them up, so they’re letting someone else who was already in the area do the rescuing. And it meant more time than expected spent in close quarters with Poe.

You’re still feeling awkward from earlier. Maybe you should head back to claim the hull for yourself to wait it out alone. You’re just about to do just that when Poe speaks up again suddenly.

“Hey, I don’t suppose I could have some of that medicine? I think I pulled something running away earlier.”

“Whatever.” You wave your hand dismissively and drop back into your chair, staring out into the starry void.

He gets up and shuffles around behind you. “What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

Poe doesn’t answer. It sounds like he’s fiddling with something now, like a stick lid. You let out a beleaguered sigh and turn just in time to see him jimmy the opening of a small canister.

“Wait—,”

It opens with a pop and releases a loud hiss. Although you can’t see anything, the noise is a clear indication that Poe has just released something into the air. Instinct takes over, and you spring up to smack the canister out of his hand. It clatters to the ground, and he gives you a strange look.

“What was that supposed to do?”

“I don’t know!”

“What was even in that thing?”

A thousand scenarios race through your head. It could have been anything. Poe likely inhaled most of whatever came out of that canister. “Do you feel anything?”

He contemplates for a moment, then shakes his head. “I feel normal.”

“Okay, that’s a good sign.”

You get up and walk over to where the canister has rolled against the wall. When you pick it up to inspect the label, you have to rub your eyes to make sure you’re reading it right.

“Uhm… you’ll be okay, Poe. Don’t panic, okay?”

He jumps to his feet. “I do not like the way you just said that. What is it, Doc? Poison? Just tell me.”

You fight against a furious blush. Before you can form an answer, Poe’s eyes widen slightly and his head snaps up to meet your gaze. He may not have felt anything before, but it’s clear the effects have started to take hold now.

“What’s happening to me?” he asks, his voice calm but shaky.

There’s a flush spreading over his face that you’re sure matches yours. Perspiration shines on his temple, and he swallows as his blackening pupils flicker around restlessly. They hone in on your mouth when your tongue darts out to wet your suddenly dry lips.

“Experimental drug. Mostly black market.” You pause to bite your lip anxiously. “Acute aphrodisiac. It was developed to artificially increase populations of an endangered species native to the Tapani sector.”

Poe moans into his hands and rubs his knuckles into his increasingly bloodshot eyes. “Okay, that explains… things.”

Embarrassment burns through you, hot and bright. Not for Poe, but for yourself. Because in spite of yourself, there's a lick of desire that shudders down your spine at the sight of him. You turn abruptly to hide your face. What kind of sick person would react this way to this?

You try to turn your frustration around on him. “Why would you mess around with something when you don’t know what’s inside it?”

Behind you, he lets out a groan that sounds as if it’s been muffled against his fist. If he hears your question, he doesn’t have the patience to respond. “How long is this going to last exactly?”

The answer is too mortifying for you to push out of your throat. You wrap your arms around yourself self-consciously. There’s only one way to make the effects of the drug go away. And if you don’t do it, he’ll be in excruciating pain for hours.

There’s not just the waiting for the New Republic patrol to consider. There’s also the matter of getting towed to the nearest system. And if there’s no one who can treat him there, he’ll have to endure refueling and getting the rest of the way to the Resistance base on D’Qar.

You steel your resolve and try to make your face as neutral as possible when you turn back to him. “You don’t have to be in pain. There is something we can do now to neutralize the drug.”

He laughs weakly through his discomfort, and that makes you raise your eyebrows at him. “You’re not seriously suggesting what I think, are you? That-that’s just crazy. Right? Doc?”

Indignantly, you anchor your hands to your hips and frown. “What is it that you think I’m suggesting?”

Poe is quiet for a moment as if he’s waiting for you to give up a jest. But when you only watch him expectantly, he drops his tight smile and says, “Oh, you are serious. No. No. It’s out of the question.”

“I’m suggesting I help out a friend,” you sigh. “Why is that so unthinkable?”

“By having sex with me?” He shakes his head with a scoff.

His tone grates at your nerves. “Well, thanks for that. I thought you were willing to fuck anything that moves, but I guess I’m the one exception to that rule.”

You storm out of the cockpit and mash the side of your fist against the release to close the door behind you. Poe throws himself through before the door can shut completely and grabs you by the shoulder.

“Wait! No, that’s not—,”

You’re about to send your elbow straight into his gut when he doubles over with a cry. He releases his grip on your shoulder and flails wildly until he gets a hold of the wall, letting out a long groan.

“Dank ferrik,” you mutter as you slide your arm under his. He leans against you as you lead him to the sofa where you’d taken a nap earlier. Even through the fabric of his shirt, his skin feels scorching to the touch.

“You have to believe me. It’s not that you’re not a beautiful woman. Because you are. Beautiful, I mean.”

His voice is thin like he’s not getting enough air. You push him to relax against the backrest with a shush.

“Would you just take it easy? I don’t care about that. You’re only putting yourself in more pain.”

“No.” He takes your arms in his hands to cease your ministrations. “You need to hear me. This isn’t how I want this. It’s all wrong. That’s why I can’t have sex with you.”

His gaze is too direct, too piercing. You have to force yourself not to look away. “W-what?”

“Ideally I’d like to have sex with you because you like me,” he says through a groan. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he bites back his pain. “Not because you feel obligated to sleep with me when I’m on the brink of passing out.”

You sigh and crouch down so you’re at eye-level with him. “Poe. I don’t feel obligated to. I want to help you.”

“Doc, no. Okay? And that’s final.”

He shuts his eyes and sucks in a breath through his teeth. And it’s in that moment that it all hits you.

He’s choosing now to be chivalrous. To absolve you of your guilt for causing the continuation of his pain. But you want no part of that. Carefully, you reach out one hand to cup his stubbled face, and the muscles of his jaw jump beneath your fingers.

“I’m not gonna let you suffer.”

His eyes flutter open in time to watch you lean forward, putting your face millimeters from his. They stare transfixed, first at your eyes, then at your lips.

“It’s always been hard to resist you. But I don’t think I can control myself right now.”

His words shoot straight to your core. You’re practically hovering over his lap now. He clenches his fists at his sides—one last desperate attempt to hold himself back.

“You don’t have to,” you breathe.

Then, everything snaps, and Poe is sitting up straight as a knife, mouth crashing onto yours. He kisses you like a man starved. Desperate, without thought for breath, his hands grabbing at your hair and the nape of your neck.

He swallows every gasp before they can even tumble from your lips, knees parting so he can wrench you flush against his chest. His stubble is merciless on the soft skin of your face, and the small moans he emits between nips compounds the growing ache between your legs.

It’s nice. It’s all way more than nice, but he needs more than this to quell the effects of the drug. You reach down between your bodies and feel around and—

Kriff. The bulge at his crotch is already as hard as durasteel. Poe lets out a whine as you squeeze him through the fabric of his pants.

“Not yet,” he whispers, shoving your hand away.

Before you can protest, he flips you onto your back on the sofa and dips down to capture your lips with his again. His tongue slips past your teeth, drags against the roof of your mouth. The pressure of his fingertips on your neck is bliss. When he moves to press a kiss to your throat, your heart starts to beat rabbit-fast in your chest, breaths coming in short bursts.

Poe claws at your arms, grabs at your chest and hips over your clothes, too far gone to bother removing the layers. Your own hands slide under his shirt and along the damp skin of his back, fascinated by the way his muscles ripple beneath your touch. Driven by need, you shove your face to the crook of his neck and mouth at the cords of his throat. His taste bursts across your tongue.

The moan he releases makes you clench your thighs together, and you realize the sheer amount of slick that’s managed to accumulate at your center. Shame heats your face—you’re getting hopelessly turned on by a drugged-up Poe. You’ve refused to be another notch in his belt for almost a decade.

“Hey, look at me.”

He takes you by the chin and tilts slightly so you’re looking into his eyes. They’re nearly black, but there’s still something warm in them that eases the tension in your shoulders. He’s still Poe. He’s still your friend.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He rocks his hardened length against your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m not.” The words are leaving your mouth before your brain has time to think. They shock him as much as you. For a long moment, all you do is stare at each other, chests heaving. Then, Poe rips the waistband of your pants and underwear down to your knees.

He growls your name into the juncture between your neck and shoulder and dips his index finger into your cunt without preamble. The sudden intrusion makes you lift your back off the sofa, gasping. Another finger joins in, then another, as Poe groans eagerly.

“I’m not sorry,” you pant, hips squirming. “I care about you, Poe.”

“I care about you too. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”

His head disappears and suddenly he’s positioning his face between your legs. Hot breath fans across your soaking folds as his fingers continue to fuck you unrelentingly. A shudder runs through you in anticipation.

“I’ve thought about tasting you for years,” he murmurs.

Even now, when he’s hovering over his goal, Poe can’t help but love hearing himself talk. You make a frustrated noise and glance down at him. His eyes make contact with yours just as he flattens his tongue against your clit.

All your thoughts dissipate at the molten hot feel of his mouth. There’s no build up, no softness. Just the firm swirl of his tongue and the slide of his fingers, desperate and frenzied like years of longing are pouring out of him at this very moment.

There’s nothing to hold on to, so you fist your hands above your head as you cant your hips. Poe doesn’t mind your writhing. Seems to savor the way your body reacts to his touch. Perhaps he’s dreamt of how you would look pinned beneath him like this.

Pleasure builds at the base of your spine as he moans into your cunt like your sweetness is everything he’s imagined and more. When he closes his lips around your clit and sucks, a cry finally rips from your throat.

“O-oh! That’s—,”

“You like that?” His voice is so low and husky it reverberates in his chest. Makes you shiver deliciously.

“I need to fuck you now.”

An eagerness forms on his face as you kick your pants off the rest of the way and press your foot into his chest. Obediently, he wraps his fingers around your ankle and straightens, lets you push him down until his back is against the armrest. He flashes you a dark smile as he languidly kisses his way from your ankle to your calf.

“If I’d known you were so keen, I would have done this ages ago.”

“Shut up.” His teasing rips a hole in your pride, but you can’t think of anything more clever to say.

“Yes, Doctor,” he says, winking.

You scoff and make quick work of the closures of his trousers as Poe grips the swell of your hips. He was being way too cocky—you want to smack that smug expression right off his face. The effects of the drug must have been quelled by what the two of you have done so far, but it’s going to take release for him to be cured completely.

With his free hand, Poe reaches past the waistband of his underwear. When he eases out his cock, it’s flushed an angry red and already weeping at the tip. He must be frustrated from the neglect, aching from need. Curiosity compels you to wrap your fingers around his searing thickness, and his mouth falls open with a moan.

A thrill runs through you. He’s beautiful like this. Dark brows drawn together, plush lips parted, and head tipped back to reveal his sharp jaw and exposed throat covered in unshaven shadow. No, he’s always been beautiful. You’ve just always been too stubborn to admit it.

“Please.” His voice comes out like a whine, but a part of you still clings to the idea that his plea is just him indulging you to get what he wants.

Every secret resentment you’ve held against him over the years bubbles to the surface. “I can’t stand you, you smooth-talking, arrogant, laserbrained ass.”

You roll your fist hard over his cock. Poe bites his lower lip to muffle a cry, dazed by the mixture of pleasure and pain.

“You’re gorgeous. I adore you,” he moans, splaying his fingers over your thighs. The strength of his grip makes your mouth water.

Swiftly, you raise your hips up and position the head of his throbbing member at your fluttering entrance. When you sink down, taking the length of him inside you, you both groan. Much to your surprise, it doesn’t feel like defeat.

“Stars. You feel so good.”

He urges you to move, shoving your hips forward in a grinding motion. You squirm above him as you struggle to adjust to his size. When he pushes you back, his cock hits something inside you that makes the edges of your vision go white. You keen his name, and he quickens his pace, guiding you back and forth atop him.

“Say it again. Say my name like you only want me.”

“Poe,” you sigh, driving your hips against his. You clench around him, desperately chasing the sweet release that was just out of reach.

He releases a soft grunt as he lifts up off the armrest and captures your bottom lip between his teeth. You wind your arms under his and dig shallow crescents into his back with your fingernails as he drags the bite out then flicks his tongue over the resulting sting soothingly.

“I’d be yours if you asked, Doc,” he murmurs as he tangles his fingers in your hair. “All you’d have to do is ask.”

You nip at his lip in retaliation, hard enough to draw a yelp from him. “Stop bullshitting me, flyboy.”

Poe’s fingers close around a handful of hair, and he gives it a short tug. You gasp as your head falls back and his lips latch onto the side of your throat. He brazenly sucks a mark into the delicate skin there and grins at his handiwork.

“Brat.”

“Sweetheart.”

He bucks up into you, his cock reaching deeper inside you than his fingers ever could. In a few simple moves, he’s turned the tables and taken control again. The irritation rises in you in tandem with the heat of pleasure building in your belly.

“I’m being serious. It’s not the drug talking,” he says between pants.

You know that. At least while he’s fucking you, the drug has no effect on him. You roll your eyes at him and just focus on riding him. But Poe doesn’t give up easy. He whines your name.

“Leave me alone,” you mutter, grinding down and taking him in to the hilt.

He sucks in a breath and shakes his head. “I can't.”

Rough fingers find their way to your clit and draw tight circles over the bundle of nerves. His other hand slips beneath the fabric of your bra and toys with a hardened nipple. Poe handles your body with the same confidence he has when operating the dash in his X-wing. It’s the last straw that puts you over the edge, and suddenly you feel like you’re taking off into the stars.

He fucks you through your orgasm, plunging into your cunt over and over as he lets broken moans tumble from his mouth indiscriminately. “Beautiful. I’m close. So close.”

You surrender to the frantic rhythm of his thrusts, boneless and hanging on to his taut shoulders for dear life. When his hips begin to stutter, you clench down on him, earning you a strangled cry of your name. Poe drives up one last time and spills inside of you, and the sensation of his hot spurts makes you whimper and shudder over him.

When he collapses back onto the armrest, he takes you down with him so that you’re lying flush against his heaving chest. Everything sounds so distant, so far away compared to the roar of blood pumping in your ears. You stay like that for a while as the both of you try to recover.

“Did that… work?” you ask finally, breaking the silence filled with only the sounds of your combined breaths returning to normal.

“You could say that,” he says. He glances down at you. “Oh, right, the drug. The pain’s gone. Don’t think it’s coming back.”

“Good.”

You start to shift to pull yourself off his softening cock, but he presses a hand against the small of your back to hold you still. Inquisitively, you look back up to meet his gaze. Warm brown was starting to return to the edges of his eyes as his pupils receded.

“Listen, sweetheart. I know you think I’m a flirt. But the truth is it’s just my way of staying in control.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you let out a tired exhale through your nose.

“It’s true. C’mon, best pilot in the Resistance? I’m just a conquest for these people. Turning them into conquests puts the power back into my hands,” he says. “None of them want me because they actually know me.”

“What are you saying?” you ask, your heartbeat high in your throat.

Poe’s fingers dance lazily across your back as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’m saying you’re not a conquest. I wasn’t just chasing after you out of some sick, twisted need to bed the one girl I couldn’t have.”

You lift yourself up slightly to get a better look at him, and the softness of his expression threatens to break your heart. He brushes his knuckle against your cheekbone and tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. The gesture is so tender and intimate, it makes your stomach flutter.

“Let me prove it to you. Let me take you out properly when we get back. I promise you, you won’t regret—,”

“Poe,” you say, cutting him off and taking his chin between your thumb and index finger. “It’s a date, alright? So shut up.”

And with that, you lean down to kiss him again and feel him smiling against your lips.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Key points you should know:

=Mainstream media coverage of mask bans has given space for politicians’ false claims that masks are associated with wrong-doing, like crime and antisemitism, while overlooking that bans are, in many ways, an effort to suppress the reality of COVID-19. =There are 21 states and numerous municipalities with laws against masks or disguises on the books. People who wear masks would benefit from knowing exactly how they are worded and any legal precedents, as police are often under-informed. =Both Republicans and Democrats are pushing more severe mask bans than ever before in history. Democrats are more likely to give lip service to health needs without offering meaningful protections. Masks can and will be criminalized by police regardless of the language of the law, as arrest trends follow social trends. Police are also permitted by the Supreme Court to make mistakes in enforcing laws.

On August 5, Nyss Fayrchyld traveled from New York City to Nassau County in Long Island with other organizers to testify against a local bill to ban masks. The next few hours were “traumatic” and “volatile,” they recalled, with supporters of the bill “yelling obscenities” at immunocompromised people who testified in masks, calling them ”pro-Hamas thugs and terrorists.”

Police also directed enforcement at people in masks. One masked attendee was arrested on several charges, including second-degree assault, a felony, facing up to nine years in prison. Fayrchyld insists that the person was de-escalating conflict, which seems corroborated by video evidence. Supporters of the ban were also given more time to speak.

Nassau County’s bill passed with a vote of twelve Republicans in favor and seven Democrats abstaining. The law includes a vague medical exemption but also gives police expansive powers to stop, unmask, and arrest people.

Fayrchyld witnessed the type of state-sanctioned hostility that has become increasingly common for people who wish to stay safe during the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic. Nassau County is just the latest jurisdiction to pass a mask ban, after North Carolina and Washington, D.C. early this year.

New anti-mask bills were also recently introduced in Chicago, the New York State legislature, and the federal House of Representatives, which proposes a sentence of up to 15 years. Leaders in New York City and Los Angeles have discussed possible future bans, and other states are enforcing pre-existing anti-mask laws on the books. The University of Virginia has banned masks on campus, unless the person can show documentation of medical need.

While mainstream media stories about mask bans often mention that immunocompromised people might be harmed, these stories also give unskeptical space to politicians’ claims that increased mask-wearing has contributed to all kinds of wrong-doing, from crime to antisemitism. In reality, mask-wearing is increasingly rare compared to early in the pandemic. There are countries with far less violence than the U.S. where wearing a mask is normalized. One analysis found no correlation between mask bans and crime rates. Many pro-Palestine protestors are masking explicitly to prevent spreading COVID-19.

Most media coverage fails to connect the new wave of mask bans to the ongoing political efforts to minimize COVID-19. Overblown concerns about facial recognition and protestors are only possible with a concurrent effort to downplay the threat of COVID-19 and erase signs of it from public life — now a priority for most mainstream politicians.

While the conversation around mask bans has focused on new laws and bills, 21 states and many municipalities have laws banning masks and/or disguises in different settings, which is more than other organizations have reported. Even where these bans have apparent limitations or exemptions, the finer language of the laws leaves all COVID-conscious people vulnerable. And the historic practices of police endanger people even in states with no legal bans.

“We have come so far downhill when it comes to protecting one another that [supporting mask-wearing] is a controversial opinion to have these days,” said disability activist and author Imani Barbarin. The political climate, she said, “creates this perfect storm where it’s going to further criminalize Black and Brown people who need masks to survive.”

The politics and propaganda of mask bans Historically, mask bans tend to come in waves. This current wave has been led by Republicans, with Democrats following closely behind. While Democrats tend to pay slightly more lip service to health needs, their actions undermine their promises.

The Republican effort to ban masks started before the COVID-19 pandemic, with a series of bills aimed at antifascist protestors. In 2011, Occupy Wall Street protestors were arrested for wearing masks. Republican leaders reignited their efforts in early 2023, introducing bills that sought to end the COVID-19 era of masking altogether.

Republicans insist mask bans have been around for a long time. But their recent efforts go further in criminalizing masking than ever before. North Carolina’s new law requires members of the public to “remove the mask upon request by a law enforcement officer,” for any reason, for as long as police want. Previously, the state’s law limited this demand to traffic stops and when police believed someone was committing a crime.

The new provision “smacks of blatant authoritarianism,” said Corye Dunn, Director of Public Policy for Disability Rights North Carolina. North Carolina’s mask ban also adds a new provision requiring a person wearing a mask to “temporarily” remove it at the request of an “owner or occupant” of a “public or private property.”

“Occupant doesn’t mean anything” in state law, Dunn said. She’s concerned that this “dangerous” provision will “embolden bullies and set up people with disabilities to face hostility” from fellow citizens demanding mask removal.

Elaine Nell, who co-founded the group Advocates for Medically Fragile Kids NC, is “angry, sad, and scared” about how the law might be enforced when it takes effect in October, especially in public spaces: “You get jury duty [and you] may not be able to wear a mask.” Nell is also concerned about her medically vulnerable children, who already lead restricted lives. “This may just take away even more,” she said.

Meanwhile, the conservative Manhattan Institute for Policy Research recently proposed a mask ban template focused on protests that don’t include any health exemption. While the Institute doesn’t pretend that COVID-19 is over, the template outlines a grim scenario: “Someone who wears a mask for health reasons probably should not be congregating in large groups of people.”

This statement suggests that immunocompromised people shouldn’t have the right to protest, work, or exist in crowded spaces, harkening back to the “ugly laws” that once forbade disabled people from being in public.

Democrats in the New York legislature proposed a mask ban bill similar to the Manhattan Institute’s template, with a medical exemption that only applies during a “declared public health emergency.” On paper, the federal government ended the COVID-19 emergency in 2023.

Across the country, Democrats are proposing mask bans based on flimsy and inconsistent logic, often citing incidents in which the main aggressors weren’t even masked. New York City Mayor Eric Adams, a former police officer, might be the one Democratic leader willing to make the subtext clear. He has expressed the desire to “go back to the way it was pre-COVID” by banning masks on subways, in stores, and in “other areas where it is not health-related” — as if there are any locations where health is not an issue.

Adams articulated out loud the Biden administration’s consistent priority: to erase the signs of COVID-19, or, as the podcast Death Panel calls it, the “sociological production of the end of the pandemic.” This started in the spring of 2021 when the CDC proposed that vaccinated people no longer need masks. The administration has also steadily chipped away at COVID-19 data collection efforts.

Mask bans are the latest step towards that goal, further disincentivizing the public from wearing them for protection. Biden administration leaders have explicitly associated mask-wearing with unnecessary, humiliating, and “fringe” behavior. And Biden recently insisted that he “ended the pandemic,” just before he reportedly caught COVID-19. His administration has been able to erase almost all signs of COVID-19 besides the viral illness itself.

How police criminalize masking On August 22, Disability Rights New York filed a lawsuit challenging the Nassau County mask ban by invoking the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). But mask ban enforcement won’t rely on the determination of the courts alone. Political propaganda against masking is likely to influence how police criminalize masking, as arrest trends follow social trends more than laws.

Before COVID-19, mask bans were among the obscure laws rarely enforced by themselves, though police have long used face coverings, particularly ski masks, as a pretext to stop and search people. Elijah McClain was stopped by police in 2019 in large part for wearing a ski mask, or “looking suspicious,” and was killed while in custody. Yet Colorado has never had any kind of mask ban, giving police no justification for the stop.

Supreme Court decision Helen v. North Carolina (2014) allows police to be “reasonably mistaken” in their understanding of the laws they are hired to enforce. Police commonly arrest people for legal knives and other weapons due to poor training and bias. People may lose days, weeks, or months of income while in jail — and exposure to a deadly and disabling virus — before prosecutors or judges catch up to police mistakes.

It doesn’t help that anti-mask laws have always been ambiguously written, contributing to “reasonable” misunderstandings and decades of legal testing in the courts. New York’s proposed law would ban masking during “lawful or unlawful assembly or riot.” But “New York, unhelpfully, does not define a local assembly in law,” said Allie Bohm, Senior Policy Counsel at the American Civil Liberties Union of New York.

Bohm is concerned that D.C.’s new law — which outlaws masking while committing a crime or “threats to do bodily harm” — is “just giving police freedom to stop anyone in a mask,” even without justification. Similar laws exist in Arizona, California, Michigan, and many other states.

Bohm’s fears were confirmed by the D.C. law’s sponsor, Councilmember Brooke Pinto, who said the law was intended to give officers “a basis for a stop, for articulable suspicion.” D.C. police officers were sent a memo summarizing the new law without additional formal training, according to emails from the Metropolitan Police Department.

Bohm identified a fundamental legal problem with most mask bans: “We will always be in the position of law enforcement deciding whether the person in front of them is masking for a ‘legitimate’ reason.” Most anti-mask laws assume that police can properly judge “intent” and behavior despite studies showing that such judgment is colored by racial and other biases.

Dunn recalled one North Carolina legislator saying in a hearing, “Nobody is looking to go after ‘meemaw’ at the Walmart,” referring to an older woman. The statement explicitly identified the kinds of “selective enforcement” likely to happen around masking, Dunn said. She has coached the family of one North Carolina Black teenager, whose immune system is suppressed from leukemia treatments, on how to balance his health needs with staying safe during a police interaction — what she calls a “horrifying choice.”

What should people who wear masks do now? (Nadica suggests reading up on illegalism. sorry for interrupting.) Unfortunately, marginalized people might not be able to rely on all of the organizations that have historically fought for their rights. Both the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People in New York and the National Urban League support New York’s proposed anti-mask law.

People who wear masks should consider learning the finer details of the laws and precedents in their states and cities, given that police may not be well informed. Does your state require “intent to disguise” your identity for masking to be illegal, as in D.C.? Then you can cite the law and try to assure police that your intention is health-related.

Bohm advises people who wear masks in New York, if confronted by police, to state that they are worried about COVID-19 and ask if they can leave, as there is no current mask ban in effect. Dunn recommends North Carolinians invoke their desire to “prevent the spread of contagious disease,” citing the language of the new law’s very narrow medical exemption. Disclosing a medical condition might seem like a good strategy, but it’s worth keeping in mind police bias: half of people killed by police are disabled.

More broadly, activists need to build solidarity among all of the groups affected by mask bans, including disabled people, pro-Palestine protesters, religious minorities, people of color, and LGBTQ+ people. Some of the laws that ban disguises have been used against trans people.

Barbarin even thinks it would be smart to “hop on personal liberty” as a way to associate masking with American freedom, which she acknowledges is not “in vogue” on the left. The Klan has long been a plaintiff in lawsuits to end mask bans, and Proud Boys, a right-wing extremist group, often cover their faces.

In order to further broaden support against mask bans, the public needs to understand that COVID-19 is still a serious risk. Beyond that, the media needs to communicate that stopping legal bans — or adding medical exemptions — won’t be enough to protect people from police. It will take changing the political discourse around masking altogether.

[randomfoggytiger]

Even though I am personally not religious, one of my favorite character traits of Scully was her faith despite being a hard nosed scientist. If you had to define her religious beliefs how would you? Would you consider her a hard core catholic, a catholic in name only or something else?

I look forward to a 1000 word prompt XD

The Journey of Scully's Faith, in Brief

Oh, yeah, Scully and her religion.

*cracks knuckles*

Faith was Scully's albatross until all things, a tug-of-war between her initial belief and secondary rationalization.

ATHEISM, AGNOSTICISM, AND THE FEAR OF HER BELIEFS

During the first half of the 90s, religion represented, to Scully, everything she was afraid to believe in: her father's ghost mouthing The Lord's Prayer, her Catholic mother's psychic dreams, her partner's and sister's convictions running concurrent with her struggle against faith.

She began Season 1 as an atheist-- more so than Mulder, perhaps-- using the rigidity of science to explain her world. Even though she wore a cross around her neck, Mulder didn't assume Scully was religious; and Maggie backed up that assumption in S2's Ascension, explaining, "I gave" [Scully's cross] "to her for her birthday." The religious iconography, then, was a memento of Scully's mother, not of her faith... which becomes particularly telling during her Season 3 and 4 struggles.

Why?

CHILDLIKE FAITH

Scully had a proclivity to believe in the supernatural, the unnatural, and the paranormal before, as she states in Quagmire, "I grew up and became a scientist." Science, then, is a shield against the unexplained: in other words, Scully fears what she can't quantify, so turns to science to deny her problem's existence. "Mulder, it doesn't matter," she insists when he prods about the cause of her cancer; "Mulder what difference would it make?" she rebuts whenever he wanders too far into the realm of hypothesis.

Beyond the Sea and Revelations hit upon the same raw nerve. Luther Lee Boggs preyed upon her repressed doubts, calling her a liar when she denied she believes and telling her that all liars "go to hell." Kevin Kryder was saved only through her acceptance, shall we say, of God's hand working through her. In both cases, religious belief-- be it her father's ghost mouthing The Lord's Prayer or a sweet-smelling saint her partner can't detect-- terrifies her.

Why would it terrify her? Because religion isolated her.

CONFUSION AND ITS ISOLATION

We know Scully has attachment issues. We see them explored in A Christmas Carol when she poured her heart out to the social worker-- admitting she kept her heart largely unattached for fear of losing yet another person in her life-- but we know Scully isn't a detached person, either. We know that Scully's greatest fear was being betrayed by Mulder. That was explored in Wetwired, when she collapsed in her mother's arms, confused and sick at heart. We know that Scully grew more and more isolated in her partnership with Mulder; but she adapted to and respected that isolation after years of professional betrayal.

In regard to religion, why would Scully feel isolated? The Scullys are a religious family: her mother dangled reminders in her life with cross necklaces and priest visits, her father prayed as his soul departed, and Bill buried her daughter in his local church.

Because religion, Scully believed, isolates her from herself.

When Scully changed her course from medical school to the FBI, her parents heavily disapproved. That disapproval heavily affected her, even if Melissa helped her work past her hang-ups, even if Scully chose to reframe her transfer as "an act of rebellion." In truth, Scully found "other fathers" to hitch her wagon to, "rebelling" only when she spotted another patch of grass that promised greener pastures. The FBI patted Scully on the head and encouraged her to sign up (pre-Pilot); Mulder patted her on the head and encouraged her to stick around (Squeeze), Ed Jerse patted her on the head and encouraged her to take a walk on the wild side (Never Again), and Daniel Waterston patted her on the head and encouraged her to come back to him (all things.) Every decision that drew Scully away from an old belief was caused by a single-minded focus on one aspect of herself: her parents' pride and joy as a doctor, Daniel Waterston's pride and joy as his med student, the FBI's pride and joy as a field agent, Mulder's pride and joy as his partner, Ed's pride and joy as his salvation. And in each case, Scully grew isolated and paranoid because she lost touch with herself as a whole; and usually fled (if temporarily) to what she considered a 'freer' freedom.

How does this apply to religion? As a child, Scully was a good little Catholic girl who smiled at her mother's cross gift; but was also a bad little Catholic girl that smoked her mother's cigarettes for attention. In medical school, Scully was a good little med student who preened under her teacher's adoration; but was also a "bad" little Catholic woman who "grew up and became a scientist." Before recruitment, Scully was a good little scientist who fled from Daniel Waterston's deception; but was a "bad" little lapsed Catholic that (unintentionally) broke up a home. In Quantico, she was a good little field agent who learned all her lessons; but was also a "bad" little by-the-books student who openly dated her Academy instructor. And she was a good little partner who helped Mulder investigate impossible cases; but was also a "bad" little scientist for "holding" him "back."

In short, Scully hadn't allowed herself to fully accept the dichotomous nature of humanity. She must either be a good little Catholic girl or be someone who wants to explore her wild side. Until Revelations, she believed one must believe in God or science; and science gave her clearer answers that squelched her anxieties.

But then, Beyond the Sea, One Breath, and Revelations happened. Scully was unable to articulate or fully understand what her experience "beyond" had been in One Breath, only that it wasn't something to fear. It forced her to brush up against sentiments lingering from Beyond the Sea, to begin to admit there was a simmering belief she wasn't ready to acknowledge.

Revelations in particular tossed Scully from agnosticism back to belief-- and, again, she feared that belief. "Afraid that God is speaking; but that no one's listening" was a distancing tactic she acknowledged in Irresistible, a way to separate from the emotions broiling uncontrollably below the surface. But it also revealed how effortlessly Scully slipped back into a belief in God-- and that she equated that belief with missed cues and punishment.

Why did Scully think religion is tied with punishment, and how did that isolate her from her other potential believers?

MOTHER MAGGIE

Maggie is the key.

As discussed above, Scully strove for acceptance from her parents or from "other fathers"; and that played an important role in her journey towards personal growth. But Captain Scully was but one-half of the picture. Scully's father served as the cattle prod for professional approval-- he modeled complete focus on climbing rank and keeping emotional burdens out from plain sight-- while her mother served as an emotional and religious one.

Maggie was the one person she could "always trust" and truly felt safe with in Wetwired. It was her mother she turned to for reassurance in Beyond the Sea, it was her mother's sins she smoked on the porch, it was her mother's gift she continued to wear when science dominated her beliefs. But Maggie has never been particularly stringent herself in her religion-- smoking cigarettes (during a time period when everyone did, but the point remains), believing in supernatural dreams, inviting the unbeliever "Fox" to mourn with the family, embracing her son's successful IVF baby in A Christmas Carol, and celebrating her daughter's out-of-wedlock baby in Essence.

It's what Margaret Scully represented, not Maggie herself, that Scully feared: unquestioning, childlike faith.

Unfortunately, we are never given closure to the dynamic Maggie provided. Other than a brief appearance in S8's Essence-- Scully's unruffled independence and Maggie's confidence in her daughter's confidence-- we're never shown that final conclusion. Alas.

A QUESTIONER AT HEART

Again, Scully couldn't reconcile the dichotomy of human nature with her (flawed) perception of religious "good and evil." Good people who do wrong, she presumed, have faltered and must repent. By that metric, evil people who do right do it for the wrong reasons. Moreover, Scully viewed a faith in God through one lens; and thought that if one did not completely believe in everything they didn't understand-- childlike faith-- then God was "speaking to them; but that no one's listening." That she wasn't listening. And what happens to those that know better but aren't listening? They are punished, because they are evil.

Scully is a questioner at heart; and Scully came to believe that questioning her beliefs, that failing to believe in things she couldn't understand, was tantamount to disbelieving in God. That's why her religious episodes can be difficult to rewatch: when facing an Almighty God, Scully cowered into complete, blind obedience-- "Perhaps that's what faith is"-- before casting off those shackles and fleeing back to denial and avoidance. But she couldn't shirk her belief, deep down, no matter her rationalizations.

A RETURN TO BELIEF, AND LIMBO

Post Revelations, Scully left the matter largely alone, resolving to finds answers to her own questions "because of my own reasons" in Memento Mori-- a courageous step for someone who usually put her own needs second.

However, the doomed inevitability of Elegy-- another agency-robbing experience Scully couldn't explain-- set her back; and she continued dodging both her mother's priest and her partner's complicated questions in Gethsemane. Scully would feel like a coward if she ran to God for strength after her absence, but she would also feel like a heretic if she questioned the nature of God's existence.

Maggie became crucial to the cancer arc narrative: it was she who kept trying to reach her daughter, to show her that God wasn't taking account of what she had or hadn't done, what she did or didn't fully believe. Scully finally cracked in Redux II, begging her mother to explain why she still clings to God but denies him-- part of her inability to understand and quantify that dichotomy-- but Maggie didn't understand what Scully was talking about, and tried to soothe her, instead. Scully ended up clinging to Maggie, clinging to Mulder, clinging to the priest before she clung to God, viewing even Mulder as a truer believer than herself.

Season 5, Fight the Future, and Season 6 left Scully in limbo. (A Christmas Carol and Emily were about her daughter and the supernatural, not her faith or belief in God.)

The series didn't return to this topic until Biogenesis, The Sixth Extinction, and Amor Fati, a three-parter that focused on the possibility of aliens creating Earth (or having a hand in its creation.) This changed the wide interpretation of her religious texts and tossed Scully back into fearful questions and self-doubt. She cried in Amor Fati because she "doesn't know what to believe or who to trust"-- a verbal slip back into that feeling of isolation that drove her from religion in the first place. (Diana Fowley was formerly evil, but she died saving Mulder. Did that make her a good person who did wrong, or an evil person who did something right?) Mulder, transformed from his own experience, gave her courage and became her touchstone, regardless.

The answer Amor Fati underlined is that Scully had yet to believe in redemption: one could repent, she thought, but it wouldn't change who they were as a person. That thinking formed the cornerstone of her "good or evil" foundation and separated her from the capability to falter but not to fail-- to "sin" but to be "redeemed."

UNANSWERED QUESTIONS

Season 7 sets into motion the culmination of religious journey: Amor Fati (as we already discussed), Orison, and all things.

Orison would have been the perfect followup to Revelations: another demon, another series of supernatural signs that only Scully would understand. However, this time she would fail to put the pieces together, and resort to an action against God's will that would put into question the goodness of her soul. Problems with Orison (that it obliterated Irresistible's message, that its side plots cluttered an already cluttered episode, that Pfaster's "affect" on victims didn't match the reaction Scully experienced) aside, the episode didn't give the audience enough information to explain why Scully believed it was the Devil, not PTSD or a trauma reaction, that forced her hand. However, that was Orison's conclusion.

This, then, set Scully in motion to either follow an path of dark self-doubt or forge a new path of enlightenment. Or both.

We know she took the latter (all things) route, but another episode's potential was wasted in the journey from question to conclusion: En Ami. A road trip with the "the Devil in the flesh" would have been the perfect opportunity for Scully to try to prove the depths of her own goodness: putting her life at risk to obtain the cure for all disease. Scientific altruism and religious redemption combined. It would also prove how well CSM knew her, inside and out: using that lure to bait her away from Mulder (and, hopefully, to his own side.) En Ami could easily have discovered the lengths Scully would go to prove herself and the depths CSM's depravity and justification could sink to. Instead, it became a study in how little CSM understood his unknowing captive, and how little the writers understood why or when Scully chose to leap when told "Jump!"

Regardless, we arrive at all things.

ALL THINGS AND PEACE

all things was about enlightenment and self-love (for Daniel Waterston and his daughter-- also curiously named Maggie-- as well): Scully decides what she wants for her life, which voice she wants to hear. It's also the episode where God spoke back.

all things was a bit of a mixed message, especially considering Scully chose to remain Catholic ("my prayers were answered" in Season 8, lighting the church candles in Season 11, etc.) Gillian's episode had clear Buddhist leanings-- the god of "all things", i.e. the god in all things. God wasn't an active force so much as a peace of mind with the right choice (that choice being Mulder.) But it worked, too-- the ending, especially (which was written with the help of Chris Carter, actually. We'll give him a point for this one.) "Mm, I didn't say 'God spoke back'," Scully corrected, which illustrated that she, at last, straddled the dichotomy of her beliefs: a God that will lead but not directly speak. A God whose signs she chose to follow, not one who punished her if she went another way. "Life's just a path", Melissa told her before she ever stepped foot in the FBI (canonically after the Daniel Waterston debacle we return to in all things); and that message wound back around and stuck, seven plus years later.

But why did all things break Scully's fear of isolation through her beliefs (or religion, at large?) Her flawed perception of her mother's God was reworked, with Mulder as Maggie Scully's stand-in: God became a god of "all things", an entity that not only allowed her to make her own choices, ask her own questions, and harbor her own doubts, but also gave her space to decide and time to return.

That reframing of God then helped her to reframe humanity. Mulder came back from a wasted weekend trip to England, empty-handed; yet she simply guided him home, made him tea, and contentedly listened to him ramble about theories she might not fully believe. Scully no longer felt the need to combat his beliefs or justify her own: she knew, now, what she believed, and that was enough. (As an aside, The Unnatural and all things both end on the same note-- Mulder coming to an epiphany and long-windedly spelling it out until he realizes Scully already knows. Interesting.)

CONCLUSION

And thus, we have concluded Scully's journey of faith.

Any further point canon tried to make was simply a retread of better, more complicated resolutions.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[irenelesbian]

please help me save my senior cat

this is my 13 year old kitty, mimi.

she was recently diagnosed with feline triaditis, a concurrent inflammation of the pancreas, liver and gall bladder. for the last couple weeks she's been in and out of inpatient treatment.

after being discharged last friday, her condition quickly worsened and she developed hepatic lipidosis. she had to have a feeding tube inserted into her esophagus, which allows me to feed and medicate her with minimal stress at home. this surgery was pretty much our last resort as she will not get better unless she has enough nourishment.

i managed to afford her treatment so far, but she'll still need some expensive medication and food for the next week or two, depending on how fast she starts eating an adequate amount on her own. she'll also have another surgery to remove her feeding tube in a month and some more bloodwork done. this will amount to at least $300, which is more than i can manage alone. i really didn't want to have to do this, but ive spent my savings on her treatment as there is no pet insurance coverage in my area.

please donate or share if you can. any help would be greatly appreciated and a little goes a long way since one dollar equates to almost R$6 in Brazil.

ko-fi

dm me for my p/ypal

[creepyscritches]

I read your post about open enrollment for the ACA and was hoping you might expand on why you believe it would take years to dismantle. I've been terrified that with a Republican house/senate, Trump could just snap his fingers and make it go away within months of taking office. I'd love some reassurance that that's not possible.

Hiya, sure I can share some thoughts on the matter! First, it's very important to understand the ACA is a huuuuuuuuuuuuge system with subject matter experts in dozens of places throughout the process. I'm one of those SMEs, but I am at the end of the process where the revenue is generated, so my insight is limited on the public facing pieces.

What this means is that I am professionally embedded in the ACA in a position that exists purely to show what conditions people are treated for and then generate that data into what's called a "risk score". There's about 6 pages I could write on it, but the takeaway is that the ACA is

1) intricately interwoven with the federal government

2) increasingly profitable, sustainable, and growing (it is STILL a for-profit system if you can believe it)

3) wholeheartedly invested in by the largest insurance companies in the country LARGELY due to the fact that they finally learned the rules of how to make the ACA a thriving center of business

4) since the big issuers are arm+leg invested in the ACA, there is a lot of resistance politically and on an industry level to leave it behind (think of the lobbyists, politicians, corporations that will fight tooth and nail to protect their profit + investment)

The process to calculate a risk score takes roughly 2 years. There is an audit for the concurrent year and then a vigorous retro audit for the prev year - - this is a rolling cycle every year. Medicare has a similar process. These are RVP + RADV audits if you would like the jargon.

Eliminating the ACA abruptly is as internally laughable as us finishing the RADV audit ahead of schedule. If Trump were to blow the ACA into smithereens on day 1, he would be drowning in issuer complaints and an economic health sector that is essentially bleeding out. You cut off the RVP early? We have half of next RADV stuck in the gears now. You cut off the RADV early? No issuer will get their "risk adjusted" payments for services rendered in the prev benefit year (to an extent, again very complex multi-process system).

The ACA is GREAT for the public and should be defended on that basis alone. However, the inner capitalistic nature of the ACA is a powerful armor that has conservatives + liberals defending it on a basis of capital + market growth. It's not sexy, but it makes too much money consistently for the system to be easily dismantled.

Or at least that's what I can tell you from the money center of the ACA. they don't bring us up in political conversation because we are confusing to seasoned professionals, boring to industry outsiders, and consistently we are anathema to the anti-ACA talking points.

I am already preparing for next year's RVP for this window of open enrollment. That RVP process will feed into the RADV in 2026. In 2025, we begin the RADV for 2024. If nothing else, the slow fucking gears of CMS will keep the ACA alive until we finish our work at the end of the process. I highly doubt that will be the only reason the ACA is safeguarded, but it is a powerful type of support to pair with people protecting the ACA for other reasons.

I work every day to show, defend, and educate on how many diagnoses are managed thru my company's ACA plans. My specialty is cancer and I see a lot of it. The revenue drive comes from the Medical Loss Ratio (MLR) rule stating only 20% MAX of profit may go to the issuer + the 80% at a minimum must go back to the customer or be invested in expanding benefits. The more people on the plan using it, the higher that 20% becomes for the issuer and the more impactful that 80% becomes for the next year of benefit growth. It is remarkably profitable once issuers stop seeking out "healthy populations". The ACA is a functional method for issuers to tap into a stable customer base (sick/chronic ill customers) that turns a profit, grows, and builds strong consumer bases in each state.

The industry can never walk away from this overnight - - this is the preferred investment for many big players. Changing the direction of those businesses will be a monumental effort that takes years (at least 2 with the audits). In the meantime, you still have benefits, you still have care, and you still have reason to sign up. Let us deal with the bureaucracy bullshit, go get your care and know you have benefits thru 2025 and we will be working to keep it that way for 2026 and forward. This is a wing of the federal government, it is not a jenga tower like Trump wishes.

[naamahdarling]

Today's medical update, please pardon any weirdness as I am using speech to text, and please excuse how long this is. I put an excellent picture of Fancy at the end for you. Here we go.

The shortest version is that my GP is going to try and centralize this. I have made an appointment for Monday. We are going to start over from the very beginning. New specimens, new cultures, everything.

The long version is kind of wild ride. It's going under a cut

My GP is now telling me that on two of the occasions that I went to Urgent Care or the hospital for a UTI, the records say that I did not actually have one.

This makes no sense whatsoever. I was symptomatic and I could smell it. On both of these occasions, I was told in no uncertain terms that I did have one.

I do not believe I was lied to at either facility. That means the only possibilities are that the testing was done improperly, the results were charted improperly, the records were sent over improperly, or I didn't understand what was being said to me.

At this point, with this absolute clown show that has been unfolding around me, this ridiculous circus where each act is fraught with nonsensical antics even more baffling than the ones before, I am literally unable to come to any conclusions. This is absolutely maddening.

And it's frightening, because there is something wrong, genuinely, and it might be something that they are unable to detect with the methods they are currently using. That's scary for a multitude of reasons, one of which is that they are not going to be willing or able to treat something if they do not think it exists. The other is that it opens the door to the possibility of their being further testing, which makes me violent to even contemplate. I want what is wrong with me to be simple, easy to treat, and relatively benign.

This has been frustrating, and drawn out, and I am sick of it. By itself it isn't enough to completely break me down. It's been almost unbearable when combined with the facts that I have serious concerns about the health of three of my cats, that my father seems to be worsening in his condition, that I have several other medical storylines going concurrently with this one, one of which is extremely stressful and frightening, and that all of this fuckery and running around has caused me to have to cut out most of the very, very few enjoyable and meaningful activities that are present in my life.

It has impacted my ability to be present for my partner, and for my pets, for me to sustain communication and relationships with people who are not my boyfriend or my best friend, and to simply fucking relax.

Also I can't fuck. Like, I know that this is the laugh at horny people website, but that is significant. Receiving not just physical touch but intimate touch is one of the very few ways I have of assorting ownership over my own body at this time.

I feel my identity has shifted from an internally defined "struggling person just going about their business" to an externally defined identity as a patient with a body that is sick and who must now structure their life around the demands of a system that does not care about me in the slightest, even though the providers usually do.

From the outside I know that this doesn't seem that terrible. I've spent the vast majority of this with no pain, and the times I have been in pain haven't crested a 3. If it weren't for the fact that I don't know what it is, it would be relatively trivial!

Unfortunately, because this isn't all I have going on, it's been really fucking things up. I space my appointments out so that I have time to recover between each one. I have PTSD, I have medical trauma, I have emotional reactions after stepping into a medical facility for any reason, and when things go wrong even in a very small way they can be intense. I manage this by allowing myself to have the reaction, experience all of the feelings, and come back to myself. It is a healthy way of doing things. It doesn't work, though, if I'm having to deal with one thing after another and no time in between to recover from it. This is essentially what has been happening to me for 2 months. Appointments, phone calls, messages, fixing mistakes, having to explain my history repeatedly as it gets ever more complicated. There's a lot more to it than just one appointment a week, which is already a lot for me.

I know this is something that chronically ill people deal with all the time, often for years, often for life, but the extent of it is new to me and very difficult to bear. My personality is vanishing under the weight of all of this crap. I do not feel like myself.

So yeah, sorry for rambling so much but this is just been...I don't even have the words to describe it. Nonsensical, but in an unfortunately consequential way. I've been going in circles all this time, apparently.

I don't really expect anybody to read all of this. But if you did, thank you. It means a lot to me. This place, and all of you, function as a sort of pressure relief, and a source of constant, pleasurable entertainment. I know many of you empathize with what I'm going through, and that helps me to feel less alone. That all by itself is so important.

Anyway, here's my cat.

She got to be on the puzzle table and was very smug about it.