#Insight Medical Group

[urdamage]

when was the last time your character/s cried?

akito noguchi has been crying himself to sleep every night for a very long time now, so it would have been last night. ever since trouble began for him in shrike heights, when his life was once again so horrifically changed, his emotions have easily gotten the better of him. he doesn't like his sister or his friends to see him cry, so he tries to keep his composure until he's alone, until he's in bed at the end of each night.

bo turner has a lot of reasons to cry, some understandably terrible, and some quite beautiful, as he's been known to so easily cry tears of joy or laughter. the most recent cause for tears were likely tears of laughter, likely as recent as a day ago, in ian and stinky's company. with everything they've been through - even the cat, who was found so cruelly abandoned before he became a turner-vogt - bo likes to just be silly. he loves to bring joy into their household, and unashamedly finds himself so funny at times that he does indeed cry laughing over himself.

desi calderon tries his hardest to not get so upset over things, though now more than ever he's also come to terms with the fact that emotions are healthy. as much as he doesn't like to cry, he does cry more frequently these days, particularly in the evenings after a long, frustrating, physically exerting shift at work, the tears aided by thoughts of deo and bodhi and everyone else he's not been able to save - that would have been the last time he cried, in a moment like that.

dodge anand understands that experiencing and feeling every emotion is healthy, particularly at the appropriate times. he's not afraid to cry, though despite this, it doesn't happen an awful lot. the last time dodge cried would have been in the aftermath of the last attack, in the ominous quiet moment that occurs after he and the rest of the hospital staff worked tirelessly to ensure all of their new patients were going to survive the night.

duckie ho would have not been able to recall the last time that he cried if he was asked this question six months ago, but the moment he had in the hospital where he not only cried, but cried in front of hoseok still bothers him. he hates to be vulnerable, and even while hoseok has never done anything to make duckie feel like he couldn't trust him, duckie still hates that he was rendered weak and vulnerable enough to cry then.

eilonwy finch is a frequent crier, she's likely crying right now. while she was able to recover from the aftermath of her own attack, a time in which she couldn't find herself able to stop crying, the past six months have been incredibly difficult for her, and she's back to her extremely fragile state. the bright side is that this time around, she has the strength of her closest friends behind her, and she's not a blubbering mess as much as she once was, despite the regression.

ernest goodarzi hates to cry, but ever since his encounter with the ghost he's found himself in tears almost every single day. even on his good days, where he gets to spend time with his best friend august, he'll come out of their time spent together in tears as the beauty that saves him from thinking about his trauma terrifies him almost as much as the killers do. like eilonwy, he's likely crying right now.

hedwig blackwood cries plenty due to his struggles and his trauma - both from the killers and his life before shrike heights - mostly in his own company, but the last time he cried was actually at a chokehold on love rehearsal. the only person outside of the band in attendance was donnie, and their front man finn found himself unable to finish the love song they were playing as he got too in his own head about his love for his soon to be husband. while hedwig laughed a lot, there were also tears shed. hedwig has always wanted to believe in love, but honestly, nothing outside of that moment has made a very strong case towards true love being, well, true.

hen wen szeto often finds themself walking around shrike heights after dark, no matter how idiotic some people might think them to be. in the day time, they don't feel comfortable with all of the eyes on them - and the ugly scar left behind on their face - and while they're not not afraid of the killers finding them again, they need to get out or else they'll be driven insane. the last time they cried was on last night's walk; their feet instinctively took them to their old apartment building, and when they thought about all of the joy they had in there with people like her brother, and galen, and the rest of those that she knew when life was temporarily so much more simple, they got all choked up about it.

iggy berman last cried around a week ago, when they got in an argument with their brother. it wasn't even about what arne had said or done, nothing to do with the circumstances in which they fought, it was simply frustration over the fact that they were fighting. iggy loves his brother more than anything; having been apart from him once before, and for quite a while at that, iggy immediately felt terrified of their relationship being anything less than perfect. he couldn't lose arne again, and while one argument is hardly the start of that, iggy cried regardless, feeling particularly sensitive that day.

jovie weaver isn't afraid of crying because she's upset, but the last time she cried was actually a couple of mornings ago, when she injured herself while swimming. thankfully it was nothing too bad, but while she was pushing herself to beat a personal best, she neglected to breathe when she needed to, and came up for air, coughing after inhaling a small amount of pool water. while trying to ground herself with the side of the pool, her hand slipped, and she hit her head on the side of it. it was painful and overwhelming enough to see her in tears, though she did recover quite quickly.

junior viana carneiro, similarly to jovie, last cried over an injury. junior is another resident of shrike heights who cries frequently, but thankfully it was over no mental pain or reminders of trauma, only an accident in the kitchen. while preparing his dinner, his hand slipped, and he cut his forearm open with a large - and unfortunately sharp - kitchen knife. he cried over fear, as he was alone and unsure of what to do, but a quick trip to perkin's and a few stitches later saw him back in reasonable spirits.

jupiter bernstein last cried out of frustration on a phone call with his mother, this morning. she always calls him in the evening her time, which is quite early in the morning in colorado; overtired and bothered by a few things that his mother had said, they got into an argument that ended in jupiter hanging up, in tears. once he was more awake and had a hot cup of tea in hand, he called her back and apologised (there are no hard feelings).

leaf wozniak woke up crying this morning, coming out of an extremely terrifying and disgustingly vivid nightmare, detailing a sicker, more warped version of the attack he had only just lived through. it happens almost every morning, though if it's not leaf waking up in tears, it's florian. luckily, the two have learnt how to best manage their upset and their pain, dealing with it all together, and with the help of the commune. each night leaf goes to sleep with hopes that the next morning will be different, though that's yet to happen.

valentine ortiz last cried a couple of days ago, through a panic attack at work. the store was extremely busy, causing valentine to try to push himself, ignoring merry's alerts along with his own discomfort, but very quickly the rush became too much, and he spiralled quickly into a panic attack. as he sat in the office, bawling his eyes out and waiting for his partner to come to his aid, valentine began wondering if it was smart to continue working at an establishment as bright and bustling as the environment in which he was attacked.

∘ ₊✧────── get to know the residents of shrike heights !!

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

A murder mystery film set in a medieval village. After an outbreak of plague, the villagers make the decision to shut their borders so as to protect the disease from spreading (see the real life case of the village of Eyam). As the disease decimates the population, however, some bodies start showing up that very obviously were not killed by plague.

Since nobody has been in or out since the outbreak began, the killer has to be somebody in the local community.

The village constable (who is essentially just Some Guy, because being a medieval constable was a bit like getting jury duty, if jury duty gave you the power to arrest people) struggles to investigate the crime without exposing himself to the disease, and to maintain order as the plague-stricken villagers begin to turn on each other.

The killer strikes repeatedly, seemingly taking advantage of the empty streets and forced isolation to strike without witnesses. As with any other murder mystery, the audience is given exactly the same information to solve the crime as the detective.

Except, that is, whenever another character is killed, at which point we cut to the present day where said character's remains are being carefully examined by a team of modern archaeologists and historians who are also trying to figure out why so many of the people in this plague-pit died from blunt force trauma.

The archaeologists and historians, btw, are real experts who haven't been allowed to read the script. The filmmakers just give them a model of the victim's remains, along with some artefacts, and they have to treat it like a real case and give their real opinion on how they think this person died.

We then cut back to the past, where the constable is trying to do the same thing. Unlike the archaeologists, he doesn't have the advantage of modern tech and medical knowledge to examine the body, but he does have a more complete crime scene (since certain clues obviously wouldn't survive to be dug up in the modern day) and personal knowledge from having probably known the victim.

The audience then gets a more complete picture than either group, and an insight into both the strengths and limits of modern archaeology, explaining what we can and can't learn from studying a person's remains.

At the end of the film, after the killer is revealed and the main plot is resolved, we then get to see the archaeologists get shown the actual scenes where their 'victims' were killed, so they can see how well their conclusions match up with what 'really' happened.

[wellhealthhub]

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[reaping-the-benefits]

found your medic reader x price au yesterday and to say i have been OBSESSED is an understatement.

got me thinking about price getting invited to a dinner with the bigwigs, commendation for a job well done. after dinner the when they’re all loose lipped from good whiskey, some of the men start making crude comments about medic reader. how lucky the 141 is to have a good bit of eye candy, handy for a lot of things out there wink wink. and price just listens to them calmly, puffing away at his cigar until they run out of jokes and start to realize he’s not laughing.

“that’s my wife you’re talkin’ about.”

Anon, you got me giggling and kicking my feet. I haven't had any proper time to dedicate to their story (want to write how they met maybe, if anyone's interested.) And I love love LOVE this idea!!!

Content warning: MDNI suggestive content, misogynistic comments, drinking and smoking, brief mention of violence.

Price never really cared for these stupid dinner parties. It's like that one saying: if you've been to one, you've been to them all. And if he's being honest, he'd much rather be at home, with you and the cats.

But the task force has been doing exceptionally well, catching terrorists and breaking up crime rings, so it's about due time that he gets invited to another one. Technically, he could decline his own invite, send Ghost to it instead. But that feels like a punishment for Ghost, and Price isn't looking to be dealing out punishment. Or dealing with a pissed off Lieutenant.

So, here he is, dressed in a suit and sitting in some stuffy parlor. The only good thing about these events is that the Colonel has good taste in cigars and whiskey. For the most part, Price can drown them all out, thinking about you while he's sipping his whiskey.

You. The sweet thing that keeps his bed warm and only occasionally drives him up the wall. You, who had been on your knees not even ten minutes before he was supposed to leave. Your hands on his belt loops, a pretty pleading look in your eyes, your mouth on his -

A cacophony of laughter breaks Price from his thoughts, He blinks, turning his attention back to the group of men he's sitting with.

"Lost in thought there, Captain?" one of them asks, humored by something Price must've missed.

"Cut him some slack. I would be too, if I worked so closely with that pretty medic of theirs," another says.

"Pretty, but they've got such an attitude," the first one comments.

"Bratty thing like that just needs to be bent over the Captain's knees."

"Or a desk. Isn't that right, Price?"

The men laugh again, the sound filling the parlor. And it's only when they settle down, laughter dying in quiet chuckles, that they realize Price isn't laughing along. In fact, he's holding onto his glass so tightly, it's a miracle that it hasn't broke yet. Before any of them can say anything, Price tells him, his voice low and tone full of warning.

"That's my wife you're talkin' about."

These men might be above him in rank, but Price has never really cared about any of that anyway. The 141 doesn't run the way it does by following the rules. Getting things done, regardless of any of the rules one might be breaking, is how the world runs.

They could've talked poorly about him, talked poorly about the 141, and he wouldn't be as seething mad as he is now. But no. Your name came out of their mouths, followed by blatant disrespect for you and all your hard work. As your husband, Price will not be letting that slide.

And as he slams his knuckles into the Colonel's nose, Price thinks of you. The pretty little thing he's got waiting for him at home. Maybe he should bend you over his desk. Heaven knows you're overdue for a good fuck in his office. But that will be after you bandage up his hands, chiding him softly for hurting himself. He won't tell you what happened at the dinner party, or why he came home with bloody knuckles, but the flowers you receive from the Colonel a week later gives you all the insight you need to know.

[flowerandblood]

The Taste of Shame

[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]

[ warnings: mention of sex working, sexual tension ]

[ description: Aemond works as a professional dom, fulfilling the various fantasies of his female clients - however, he guards his privacy and does not enter into any relationships with them, recognizing that he does not want or need it. It turns out that what he wants and what he doesn't no longer matter when he meets his friend's younger sister for the first time. Slow burn, sexual tension, doubts related to sex work. ]

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Until he met Criston and Robert at university he was a total loner, really only going to classes and shopping. Ever since he moved out of his family home, he didn't feel the need to interact with anyone except his mother and his youngest brother.

Nonetheless, once their quantum physics professor selected them as a group to tackle a joint project in his class, it turned out that they got along very well.

He was quiet and withdrawn, best at solving equations and finding the correct formulae; Robert threw interesting, chaotic insights and ideas from his sleeve, and Criston pulled it all together to form a whole.

They scored the highest possible grade and from then on they naturally stuck together; Robert and Criston didn't seem to mind that he usually didn't contribute to their discussions, simply allowing him to be in their company with a cardboard cup of coffee from the vending machine.

They often asked him where he got his money from, since, according to him, his parents did not help him financially to live in a completely different city. He usually answered evasively, feeling a squeeze in his throat in those moments, a fear that one day they would somehow find out how he made his living.

What he was doing.

That women paid him to tie them up, to beat them, to slap them, to degrade and humiliate them, to fuck them in ways he wouldn't even be able to explain, taking unspeakable satisfaction from it.

He was a professional; he signed contracts that included each party's boundary and safety words. He expected his clients to have medical examinations to make sure they didn't carry any diseases, but he used condoms anyway.

He rented a bedsit intended as a meeting place, with no intention of hosting anyone in his flat; his main rule was not to get emotionally involved, apart from having sex and entitling himself that his client was comfortable, he did not get into any conversations with them even though they tried to do so.

It started with one woman, Alys, who he met when he graduated from high school; it turned her on when he tied her up, when he fucked her while telling her she was a nobody, when he punished her and it shocked him what a tremendous sense of power it gave him.

She told him admiringly that he could be a professional dom and earn a lot from it, which gave him pause for thought. To her despair, he ended their relationship shortly after he started doing it for money, recognising that he didn't want to break his rule about not having a relationship, where she already knew far too much about him.

He was more careful with others.

They called him sir and knew nothing about him except what they read on the website.

He admired in a way how desperate some of them were, how much they were balancing on the edge of overdoing it; in a few cases he had to check their pulse to make sure he hadn't killed them.

His clients were not poor women and sometimes, for extra things or to show him their admiration, they paid him more than what they had agreed for; however, he never accepted excess money, knowing that if he broke the rules they would think they could expect more from him, which he was unwilling to allow.

So, for obvious reasons, he kept his profession to himself, fearing that if his friends found out about it they would think he was just fucked up. He genuinely liked them, as well as the field of study he was attending, and didn't want to change anything in his life.

When Robert invited him and Criston to his house for his birthday he agreed immediately, seeing no obstacles to celebrating with him; he knew that apart from him and Criston there would be a few more friends from his neighbourhood and he was fine with that.

When he got his car into his driveway he decided to have a smoke before going inside, tired after a long, intense session with his female client, wanting to clear his mind.

That's when he heard her for the first time.

"Are you Robert's friend?!"

He looked over his shoulder and saw her − she had jumped off the blue slim bike with the white basket in the front. Her hair was loose and in a slight disarray due to the wind, her face pink from exertion, her full lips parted slightly in a quickened breath, her large eyes shining with curiosity.

He felt everything he saw in his cock, looking at her pale, with his eyes imagining her moaning beneath him with that pleading, sweet voice to keep fucking her.

"− yeah −" He hummed in a slightly trembling voice, taking a deep drag on his cigarette, trying to hide what was happening to him, in what direction to his horror his thoughts had fled.

"That's wonderful! I'm Robert's sister. I forgot to buy candles for his cake, which was rather unfortunate considering it's his birthday and I had to go quickly to get them." She said breathing heavily as she walked with her bicycles deeper into the driveway, looking at him expectantly over her shoulder. "Do you have a lighter?"

He couldn't play the idiot and pretend he didn't have one, so, as she requested, they went around her house and walked inside from the terrace, walking quietly to the kitchen − he could hear the voices of Robert, Criston and the other guests in the distance.

She opened the fridge, which illuminated her pleasant, smiling face with a bright, bluish light, and slowly pulled out a meringue cake with a cucumber glaze decorated with berries.

"It looked better in the picture on the internet, but I was making it for the first time. Can you help me?" She asked lightly, pulling candles from the pocket of her dress.

He just nodded, feeling his mind working in slow motion, his heart pounding like mad, his mind focused on her body and on her scent, some sweet, girly fruity perfume.

He thought, swallowing loudly, that she was like a ripe peach or strawberry, begging to be bitten into, to taste its flesh.

He pressed his lips together, sticking the last candle into the crisp texture of the meringue, thinking with despair that he was a disgusting man, that she was his friend's younger sister.

And above all, she was not his client.

He handed her a lighter; their faces lit up by the warm glow of the fire as she began to light the candles one by one. She smiled at him when she finished in a way that made him feel like saying he didn't give a shit about the candles, the cake and Robert's birthday − just to pull her panties off her legs and fuck her on the countertop.

"Let's go." She said warmly and he nodded, letting out the air from his lungs, watching her with a look that, had it not been for the darkness in the room, would surely have terrified her.

They walked into the living room; his sister began to sing a Happy Birthday loudly and the other guests joined her in chorus, Robert stood up embarrassed but clearly pleased. After a round of applause, he walked over to them and blew out the candles, saying happily that his little sister remembered how he loved the meringues and hugged her.

He lowered his gaze at the thought that they were close.

That he needed to pull himself together.

When Robert offered him a drink he immediately agreed, distraught and terrified at the thought of spending the whole evening in her company; she walked around the room with a smile, talking to everyone lightly as if she had known them for years.

At the same time, he craved and feared that she would eventually sit down next to him, noticing his distancing and tiredness and walked out into the garden, sitting down on a bench, lighting a cigarette.

He closed his eyes as he heard someone's footsteps and for some reason he knew, subconsciously felt, that it was her.

He smelled her scent as she sat down next to him with a quiet creak of old wood and slowly opened his eyelids, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She was holding her drink, probably vodka with orange juice and mango, for some reason it seemed obvious to him that she only liked alcohol if it was sweet.

"Beautiful evening." She said warmly, softly, her gaze slightly dreamy, gazing up at the cloudless, starry sky, her body as if spilling over the backrest of the bench, her head lying comfortably on it, framed by her shiny hair.

He thought with embarrassment that he couldn't cause her pain even if she begged him to.

Though maybe he could slap her buttock a time or two before sinking his face between her thighs, leaving the red mark of his hand on her skin.

He swallowed loudly, taking another drag on his cigarette, looking ahead, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen, the arousal he knew so well, his manhood twitched in his trousers.

He didn't answer.

After a moment, however, Criston came out to them, chatting them up, making him feel relieved, feeling like he was going to go mad because of her presence.

He left the party faster than he wanted to; Robert tried to stop him by saying that he could spend the night at his house, but he refused, terrified by this vision, knowing that he wouldn't last, that he would go to her room.

That one word from her would be enough to make him fuck her and regret it for the rest of his life.

He would leave her with nothing afterwards.

She seemed like a good, nice girl, deserving of a decent man who wouldn't think about tying her up.

As he drove home in his car he breathed out loud, somehow proud of himself, knowing that he had done the right thing, that maybe he wasn't as bad a person as he thought he was.

He fought with himself not to look for her on social media, and although he himself had accounts under pseudonyms with black squares in place of profile pictures, knowing that she was Robert's sister, finding her was too easy for him to resist.

So, in despair, he spent the evening giving up, recognising that if someone publishes something on the internet it means they agree to let others look at it. He swallowed loudly, surprised to see a new notification on Facebook and it was nothing other than an invitation from her.

He felt the cold sweat on his back and the quick, hard pounding of his heart, as if he was about to defuse a ticking bomb.

Accept?

Reject?

Do nothing?

He stared at his screen with his lips clenched and involuntarily clicked accept.

Fuck.

He ran his hand over his face, knowing it wasn't the best idea, but that if he removed her quickly from his friends now she'd still get a notification that he'd accepted her before and it would be weird to say the least.

He figured that she had surely only added him because he was a friend of her brother's and she had no intention of doing anything more with it.

He almost choked on his tea when he saw that she had sent him a message.

He stared at the chat bubble and clenched his eyes, clicking on it, unfolding the conversation, recognising that he wouldn't fall asleep if he didn't see what she had written to him.

He looked at her message with a fast-beating heart, reading it several times, swallowing quietly with a sense of some kind of relief that it had no subtext. It made him feel warm at the thought that, in essence, what she had written was kind and affectionate, expressing only her innocent concern and gratitude.

He figured he could write her back without any remorse that he was doing something wrong, for some reason feeling excited about talking to her.

He wrote back and sighed heavily, recognising that his reply was terribly dry and distant, but then thought that perhaps it was better. He twisted restlessly in his seat looking expectantly at his screen when he saw that after a moment she had displayed his message.

He involuntarily smiled reading it and thought she was sweet.

Over the next few days, he involuntarily returned to that brief exchange of words, thinking only of the fact that he wanted to somehow strike up a conversation with her again, although he didn't know how to do so.

"What are you thinking about, buddy?" Robert asked him with amusement, slapping him on the back with a friendly, masculine hand gesture; he swallowed loudly, pulled out of his reverie, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Nothing."

One of his clients had expressed a desire to meet again after their last session, wanting a more intense experience this time. Looking at her message, he ran his hand over his face, for some reason feeling doubts surging into his mind, though he didn't know what they stemmed from.

What would she think of him if she found out?

During the meeting with his client he had given her everything she wanted, but there had been no intimacy with penetration between them and he had satisfied her only with his hand.

He felt for some reason distanced from what he was doing, as if his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

He imagined that if it had been her lying in front of him he would have done it differently, that he would have brought her to the edge of despair, but he would have had more understanding and patience, he would have been tender to her.

Why?

When it was all over and the woman had left he cleaned everything, threw the old bedding in the washing machine and put on the fresh one, so that it would be ready when he returned there.

He left and locked the flat, then ran down the staircase and headed for the car park across the street.

"Aemond!" He heard a happy, girlish, warm voice, her voice; he turned over his shoulder, terrified, for some unexplained reason certain that she had caught him in the act, even though they were standing in the middle of the street.

She jumped off her bike halfway down the road, grabbed the handlebars and ran over to him, a shopping bag in her basket, a cute fabric clasp backpack on her shoulders.

She was dressed in dark, long high-waisted trousers, pleasantly emphasising her waist and a short-sleeved T-shirt, her hair tied up in a braid that was partly blown by the wind.

She stood in front of him smiling broadly, in the light of the sun her face seemed even more gentle and soft to him, although she appeared to him to be nothing more than a figment of his imagination, so he merely stood and looked at her with his mouth slightly parted.

"Where are you going?" She asked lightly, her eyes shining with an innocent, childlike curiosity from which he felt a tightening in his throat; he thought she literally beamed with a kind of warmth from which his whole body shuddered.

He licked his lower lip quickly, swallowing loudly as he tried to get any meaningful sentence out.

"I'm just getting home." He said in a low, cool, distant voice, having no idea why he sounded that way − he had the feeling that his whole body was somehow trying to prevent what was just happening to him. She blinked, cocking her head as if she was expecting the rest of his statement, though he wasn't planning one.

"I…I had my business to take care of. And you?" He changed the subject quickly wanting to distract her from himself − she smiled even wider, shifting from foot to foot.

He noticed the outline of her breasts under her T-shirt proving she had no bra underneath and looked away, horrified and aroused by this discovery.

Fuck.

If she was his, he'd show her what he thought of it.

He squeezed his eyes shut wondering what he was even thinking about when the last thing he was looking for was a relationship.

"I'm just going to a lecture by my favourite professor in the history of philosophy. Want to join me? Entry is free!" She said clearly excited by her own idea and proposal, and he swallowed loudly, looking at her in disbelief, analysing quickly what she had said, whether he should do it.

He had no commitments, his whole evening was free.

He hummed under his breath, putting his hands in the pockets of his black trousers.

"How far is it from here?" He asked hesitantly, and she waved her hand.

"The lecture will be held at the Community Centre, two streets away. Five minutes' walk."

He looked at her, at her pretty, overjoyed face, and gave in.

"Why not."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[genderkoolaid]

We don't have good statistics or estimates for the population size of transmasculine sex workers. Part of that is a lack of data on sex workers in general, but part of it is that trans men are often not visibly trans when they participate in sex work. A lot of the trans men and transmasculine people who sell sex do so under a female persona. The escorting profile of a trans man might be indistinguishable from the profile of a cis woman – intentionally on his part – to attract as many clients as possible. This means that in practice, this segment of the transmasculine population are recorded as cis women. If we were to assume the population of trans men selling sex was accurately reflected by the profiles visible on escorting sites, we would likely come to the conclusion that trans men are a tiny group within sex work. The reality is that even openly trans men are much more likely to engage in more informal kinds of sex work, such as on apps like Grindr or with people they meet and in social spaces, just like cis gay men who sell sex. The transmasculine people who claim to be cis women whilst working do share needs with cis women who sell sex, but such resources do not serve all the needs of those hidden trans people. Trans men who are not socially or medically transitioning are driven to sell sex by the same forces which push women to sell sex, with the added pressure of saving money towards transition care and the certainty that they will not be able to sell sex under a female persona forever. Their clientele are also much more likely to shift towards gay and bi men when they do come out, which will change the experiences they have at work and may change their health concerns. [...] [...] So on what basis do I assume the real numbers are so much higher than the few ads we can find online? The impetus for my initial wondering was prompted by the fact I sold sex for many years before I even came out to myself as trans. And I continued to work under a cis female persona until I had been on testosterone for several months. I’m not arrogant enough to think I’m an exceptional case, so I kept an eye out for others like me.  As I began to speak about my experiences in sex worker group chats, on social media, and in meetings with advocacy organisations, I began to hear from many others in the same situation. Every time I speak up, I hear from more trans men and non-binary people who are hidden. No advocacy group is going to find these people unless they identify themselves this way, and transmasculine people are unlikely to do that when an organisation is explicitly geared towards women. I’ve heard from more trans men working under female personas than the total number of openly out trans men advertising across all of the escorting sites I use. I’ve never explicitly asked anyone if they have this experience – they’ve all come to me. And with every story I hear there’s a common thread: they want to medically transition, but fear losing their entire income when they do. Top surgery is a definitive end to being able to work as a cis woman for most, but even testosterone alone can be prohibitive given enough time. By three months on testosterone, clients were beginning to suggest I was a trans woman who’d had genital surgery, and were much more violent with me. This kind of violence rooted in transmisogyny won’t be everyone’s experience, but it happens.

Also, for those interested, check out Jack Parker's Transmasculine Guide to Sex Work

[magz]

The book "The Long Covid Survival Guide" might be something magz audience would find useful.

The Long COVID Survival Guide:

How to Take Care of Yourself and What Comes Next

Stories and Advice from Twenty Long-Haulers and Expertsby Fiona Lowenstein

The first patient-to-patient guide for people living with Long COVID—with expert advice on getting diagnosed, dealing with symptoms, accessing resources and accommodations, and more “The Long COVID Survival Guide aims to give people struggling with long COVID practical solutions and emotional support to manage their illness.”—NPR, It’s Been a Minute

For people living with Long COVID, navigating the uncharted territory of this new chronic illness can be challenging. With over two hundred unique symptoms, and with doctors continuing to work toward a cure, people experiencing Long COVID are often left with more questions than answers.

A support group in book form, The Long COVID Survival Guide is here to help. Twenty contributors—from award-winning journalists, neuroscientists, and patient-researchers to corporate strategists, activists, and artists—share their stories and insight on topics including:

getting diagnosed finding a caregiver confronting medical racism and gaslighting navigating employment issues dealing with fatigue and brain fog caring for your mental health, and more.

This vital resource provides the answers and reassurance you need, to take care of yourself and prepare for what comes next.

Contributors: Karyn Bishof, JD Davids, Pato Hebert, Heather Hogan, Monique Jackson, Naina Khanna, Lisa McCorkell, Karla Monterroso, Dona Kim Murphey, Padma Priya, David Putrino, Yochai Re’em, Rachel Robles, Alison Sbrana, Chimére L. Smith, Letícia Soares, Morgan Stephens, and Terri L. Wilder

The link has more information and more places to buy it. It is available as Physical book and E-book. It was published on November 8, 2022.

The price averages $18.95 U.S. & $24 Canadian.

Quick Links though.

Where to buy: Amazon. Bookshop. Better World Books. Books-A-Milion

Free E-Book File Download (for those who can't viably access, have it delivered to where live, or pay)

[meiliarotten]

i need the insight of the tf2 smut expert (complimentary) on this one... which of the mercs prefers tits and which one prefers ass?

First off- I am honored to be considered the tf2 smut expert. Now- on to the ultimate question.

🍑 or 🍒?

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

The Masterlist

👟 Scout 👟

Oooooh I had to ponder this one for a long while. Now, I personally headcanon Scout as bi (like me), so I finally decided he likes both, but specifically tits for women and ass for men. If you’re non-binary it’s a coin toss. As in he’ll probably literally flip a damn coin.

🦅 Soldier 🦅

My reasoning here literally had me looking up muscle groups in the human body. Soldier strikes me as a man attracted to strength. Literally look at Zhanna. She definitely pegs him and he’s not ashamed of it. As such, I think he’s an ass man- largest muscle in the body, y’know? Yeah. My high school biology teacher would be proud to see what I’m doing with that hard earned education.

🔥 Pyro 🔥

Pyro likes any squishable soft part of your body- tits, ass, belly, it’s all fair game, but if they had to choose, they would go with tits. They’re the easiest to squeeze if they hug you from behind, they like the way they feel when you’re cuddling and they’re pressed up against them, big or small, breasts are just perfect! Plus, if you have an especially sensitive chest, Pyro will definitely take full advantage of that during foreplay

💥 Demo 💥

For Demo, it comes down to what’s easiest to grab in the moment- and that tends to be your ass. It’s easy to give it a quick squeeze in the corner of a bar or even in passing on the battlefield, just to tease you a bit- tits aren’t nearly as subtle. So yeah, it’s ass all the way for this one.

🥊 Heavy 🥊

I struggled with this for a long while but I finally settled on tits. Heavy is much bigger than most of his lovers, and so he prefers for them to ride on top so that they can take him at their own pace. This position makes it pretty easy for him to caress your chest or simply watch the way your tits bounce as you ride him. It’s a view he can’t get enough of!

🔧 Engie 🔧

Ass. I had to consult a fellow smut expert on this one cause I was stuck, and they’re reasoning basically boils down to a particular smutty scenario where Engie bends you over his desk and goes to town- hence resulting in the ass preference. I also personal feel like he wouldn’t be shy about spanking either.

🏥 Medic 🏥

Assl Tits. THIGHS. I will perish on this hill, Medic is a thigh appreciator above all else. Mans will go down on you for hours just to be cushioned between a pair of thighs. He’ll leave bite marks on the soft flesh. A pair of thigh high stockings will fucking slay him, as illustrated in this fic by lil ol me.

🦘 Sniper 🦘

Ass for sure. This might have something to do with the “wild man” energy Sniper gives off. Something about him just screams feral, and that includes taking you ass up and face down whenever the mood arises.

🌹 Spy 🌹

Tits, especially if they’re accentuated with some fancy lingerie. Spy will gladly worship your chest if you want him to. He’ll even buy you outfits that show off your curves with plunging necklines just for him to admire you in. Kinda like a sugar daddy

So yeah, those are my hot takes on what each merc prefers. You want a source? My source is that I made it the fuck up

Jk, this is all in good fun, and I’d love to see y’all’s opinions as well! These are the discussions we should be having, people!

[gendercensus]

The National [USA] Center for Transgender Equality have released some results from their 2022 survey

"Of the 84,170 adult respondents, 38% identified as nonbinary, 35% identified as transgender women, 25% identified as transgender men and 2% identified as cross-dressers."

More nonbinary people than any other group, and the sample is huge! This echoes what I've seen suggested in other survey results too, it's exciting and interesting to me.

(Also, less than 2% expressed any amount of dissatisfaction with medical transition treatments, of course!)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

can you do a post about the forms of paranoia? Making up situations and anonymous online interactions, getting lost in your own head kinda of situation? 🥹😍

Writing Notes: Paranoia

PARANOIA

A paranoid state (i.e., a condition characterized by delusions of persecution or grandiosity that are not as systematized and elaborate as in a delusional disorder or as bizarre as in paranoid schizophrenia. Also called paranoid condition.)

A former diagnosis for a relatively rare disorder, distinct from paranoid schizophrenia, in which the person reasons rightly from a wrong premise and develops a persistent, well-systematized, and logically constructed set of persecutory delusions, such as being conspired against, poisoned, or maligned. It is equivalent to persecutory-type delusional disorder.

Historically, any psychiatric disorder characterized by persistent delusions. See also classical paranoia below.

In ancient times, any mental disorder or delirium.

An unfounded or exaggerated distrust of others, sometimes reaching delusional proportions. Paranoid individuals constantly suspect the motives of those around them, and believe that certain individuals, or people in general, are ‘‘out to get them.’’

The word paranoia comes from ancient Greek: nóos means ‘thought’; para- means ‘going beyond’.

In theory, the term denotes a mind that goes beyond the usual field of thought.

In practice, even in ancient Greek, it indicated a delusional manner of thinking.

But the concept was not as well known as it is today.

It was 19th century German psychiatry that brought it into modern discourse.

In politics, the word paranoia is often used to criticize an opponent, though probably few of the people who use it could actually explain what it means. Only rarely has the term been used self-critically.

Classical Paranoia

Conceptualized in the 19th century by German physician Karl Ludwig Kahlbaum (1828–1899) and later refined by Emil Kraepelin.

A rare disorder characterized by elaborate, fixed, and systematic delusions, usually of a persecutory, grandiose, or jealous character, that develop insidiously, cannot be accounted for by any psychiatric disorder, and exist in the context of preserved logical and orderly thinking.

Delusional Disorder

In DSM–IV–TR, (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, fourth edition, the diagnostic standard for mental health professionals in the United States) any one of a group of psychotic disorders with the essential feature of one or more nonbizarre delusions that persist for at least 1 month but are not due to schizophrenia.

The delusions are nonbizarre in that they feature situations that could conceivably occur in real life (e.g., being followed, poisoned, infected, deceived by one’s government).

Diagnosis also requires that the effects of substances (e.g., cocaine) or a medical condition be ruled out as causes of the delusions.

Formerly called paranoid disorder.

7 types of delusional disorder are specified, according to the theme of the delusion:

Erotomanic type: Central theme of the delusion is that another person is in love with the individual.

Grandiose type: Central theme of the delusion is the conviction of having some great (but unrecognized) talent or insight or having made some important discovery.

Jealous type: Central theme of the individual’s delusion is that his or her spouse or lover is unfaithful.

Persecutory type: Central theme of the delusion involves the individual’s belief that he or she is being conspired against, cheated, spied on, followed, poisoned or drugged, maliciously maligned, harassed, or obstructed in the pursuit of long-term goals.

Somatic type: Central theme of the delusion involves bodily functions or sensations.

Mixed type: This subtype applies when no one delusional theme predominates.

Unspecified type: The dominant delusional belief cannot be clearly determined or is not described in the specific types (e.g., referential delusions without a prominent persecutory or grandiose component).

Criteria for delusional disorder in DSM–5 and DSM-5-TR also include the following:

The delusions may be either nonbizarre or bizarre (i.e., implausible), and

their potential presence as a result of an ingested substance, a medical condition, or another mental disorder sometimes associated with firmly held delusional beliefs (e.g., obsessive-compulsive disorder, body dysmorphic disorder) must be ruled out.

Paranoid perceptions and behavior may appear as features of a number of mental illnesses, including depression and dementia, but are most prominent in 3 types of psychological disorders:

paranoid schizophrenia,

delusional disorder (persecutory type), and

paranoid personality disorder (PPD).

Individuals with paranoid schizophrenia and persecutory delusional disorder experience what is known as persecutory delusions: an irrational, yet unshakable, belief that someone is plotting against them.

Persecutory delusions in paranoid schizophrenia are bizarre, sometimes grandiose, and often accompanied by auditory hallucinations.

Delusions experienced by individuals with delusional disorder are more plausible than those experienced by paranoid schizophrenics; not bizarre, though still unjustified.

Individuals with delusional disorder may seem offbeat or quirky rather than mentally ill, and, as such, may never seek treatment.

Persons with paranoid personality disorder tend to be:

self-centered,

self-important,

defensive, and

emotionally distant.

Their paranoia manifests itself in constant suspicions rather than full-blown delusions. The disorder often impedes social and personal relationships and career advancement.

Some individuals with PPD are described as ‘‘litigious,’’ as they are constantly initiating frivolous law suits.

PPD is more common in men than in women.

Typically begins in early adulthood.

The exact cause of paranoia is unknown. Potential causal factors may be:

genetics,

neurological abnormalities,

changes in brain chemistry, and

stress.

Paranoia is also a possible side effect of drug use and abuse (for example, alcohol, marijuana, amphetamines, cocaine, PCP).

Acute, or short term, paranoia may occur in some individuals overwhelmed by stress.

A summary of paranoid personality disorder (PPD) in the DSM-IV:

The principal defining features of paranoia are pervasive and unwarranted mistrust and suspiciousness of others.

People who are paranoid are locked into a rigid and maladaptive pattern of thought, feeling, and behavior based on the conviction that others are “out to get them.”

Their perception of the world as a threatening place drives them to be highly alert to any evidence suggesting that they are being victimized.

A constant search for proof of their victimization often leads them to misinterpret others’ comments and behaviors.

Hypersensitivity to slights, both imagined and real, combined with the tendency to have excessive confidence in their own knowledge and abilities, create tension in interpersonal relationships and leave social networks depleted.

If we want to assess where someone’s paranoia fits in the spectrum, we need to look at 4 key factors:

How much the person believes the paranoid thoughts.

How preoccupied the person is with the thoughts.

How distressing the thoughts are.

How much the thoughts interfere with everyday life.

Studies found that some people who respond in a paranoid way have 3 distinct emotional characteristics:

A greater tendency to worry.

Higher levels of anxiety.

Negative feelings about themselves and other people.

Some researchers have found that paranoia may be caused by the subtle interaction of 4 factors:

Anomalous experiences and ambiguous events

Our emotions

Our previous experiences

The way we reason

TREATMENT

Paranoia that is symptomatic of paranoid schizophrenia, delusional disorder, or paranoid personality disorder should be treated by a psychologist and/or psychiatrist.

Antipsychotic medication such as thioridazine (Mellaril), haloperidol (Haldol), chlorpromazine (Thorazine), clozapine (Clozaril), or risperidone (Risperdal) may be prescribed, and

cognitive therapy or psychotherapy may be employed to help the patient cope with their paranoia and/or persecutory delusions.

Antipsychotic medication, however, is of uncertain benefit to individuals with paranoid personality disorder and may pose long-term risks.

If an underlying condition, such as depression or drug abuse, is found to be triggering the paranoia, an appropriate course of medication and/or psychosocial therapy is employed to treat the primary disorder.

Don’t just accept your suspicious thoughts: question them.

Paranoid thoughts often seem really compelling and plausible—which is ironic since, by definition, they won’t stand up to careful scrutiny. Instead of taking them at face value, we need to challenge these thoughts, weighing up the evidence for and against, and seeking out alternative explanations for the way we’re feeling. Some questions people can ask themselves:

Is there anything that might suggest the paranoid thought could be wrong?

What would I say to a friend who came to me with a similar problem?

Are there any alternative explanations for what seems to have happened?

If I was feeling happier, would I still think of things in the same way? Are my past experiences getting in the way of me seeing the present situation clearly?

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

Hope this helps with your writing! Use these notes as a quick reference. More research may be needed to write your story. I recommend reading the sources included here, but there are also numerous others.

[operator-report]

In middle school, I read a short story for English class called Flowers for Algernon. Maybe you’ve read it, too. In the story, a disabled man named Charlie is given a medicine that cures his disability. Over the course of the story, he comes to realize that his “cure” is temporary and that he will “regress” into being disabled again. The story makes it clear that this is a tragedy. As a disabled teenager when I first read it, the story affected me deeply.

I’d like to talk about David and Noelle. 

Content warnings for discussion of suicide, self-harm, ableism and eating disorders below the cut. Spoilers for Worm through arc 27. 

When I was first reading arc 18, one of the things that stuck out to me is how much time the story spends on Eidolon. For me, it was the first time I paid much attention to him - prior to that, Eidolon was just an extremely powerful background character to me. But in arc 18, we learn that (1) Eidolon is losing his powers and (2) he believes that fighting Echidna will allow him to tap into some sort of reservoir to bring them back.

We find this out, of course, through Tattletale exposing him, which is always an extremely embarrassing event for Tattletale’s target. It makes it extremely clear that what Eidolon is doing is pathetic. He is going to kill a teenage girl so he can feel something. 

Which would be messed up enough, right? We don’t need to make this even worse, right? Wrong. Because Wildblow has spent the last several thousand words building up the Case 53s as X-Men style metaphors for oppressed groups, and one of the forms of oppression that Wildblow generally writes well is ableism. I think you can consider most, if not all of the Case 53s as disabled in some way. I think the link is extremely clear with Noelle.

Noelle doesn’t get her powers from traditional Cauldron human experimentation - at least, not directly. Instead, she and Krouse are facing what is, to them, a no-win scenario. They’re quarantined with limited access to medical care. Breaching this quarantine would permanently render them criminals. If Noelle survives her surgery, which is a pretty big if, she’ll become disabled, in a way that both Krouse and Noelle agree is ugly and undesirable. She won’t be able to do “boyfriend-girlfriend stuff” because she won’t be “any good to look at, after.” 

Krouse and Noelle are terrified of death, yes, but they’re also terrified of disability. They are desperate for control over Noelle’s body, control that, as of that moment, only the state has. (Remember the quarantine?) Krouse pressures Noelle into drinking the vial. Noelle is cured. 

Noelle’s cure does not last. In attempting to assert control, her body becomes uncontrollable. Her body is her trauma and her eating disorder made literal. She still needs care.

Worm would be bad if this is why her life sucks. But Worm does something better, instead. Noelle goes through hell, not just due to the sheer difficulty of having her power, but because of the way her teammates and Coil treat her. They talk about Noelle like she’s already dead. They’re ashamed of bringing her the food she needs. When Krouse “includes” Noelle in a discussion in arc 12, it’s mostly perfunctory. They do not believe Noelle is human any longer. They lock her away.

Noelle doesn’t want to be put in a cage. Noelle doesn’t want to be dehumanized. In interlude 18, when we get insight into Noelle’s thoughts, we learn that what Noelle is angry about is the fact that Krouse locked her in a concrete bunker and placated her. When she tells people not to look at her, there’s a coda to that sentence that she doesn’t get to verbalize: don’t look at me like that. 

This is the person who Eidolon is going to kill. 

Via the Simurgh, this is a person Eidolon has unknowingly created.

A few thousand words of Worm go by. It’s Gold Morning. Eidolon is fighting Scion. Now, at the end of the book, we finally get substantial insight into David, the man behind the mask. 

David takes a Cauldron vial to cure his disability. David sees this as the only way out, after an unsuccessful application to join the military, and then, an unsuccessful suicide attempt. David is bearing an immense amount of shame and internalized ableism. David is worried that father’s friends are watching him. (Don’t look at me.) David cleaves the world into two kinds of people: those who can have jobs, who are liked and respected because they are useful; and people like him, who are useless.

It’s a terrible way to think. Without that worldview, how could a person not take the vial? David wants to be used, because David wants to be useful. He never gets the independence he craves – not when he’s in that level of debt to Cauldron – but he gets to be useful, and that’s one of the best things you can be.

Like Noelle’s, like Charlie’s in Flowers, David’s cure doesn’t work. His abilities are wearing off. He is essentially told, when Doctor Mother administers his booster shots, that his medicine is too expensive. 

Cauldron creates Noelle. David, as Cauldron’s soldier, has a role to play in her creation. David knows exactly what he is doing to Noelle. It happened to him. Worm fandom talks a lot about David being a father. He’s a father in more ways than one. (David’s father is always watching him.) (Don’t look at me.)

Cauldron never cures David’s ableism. In his world, you can be useful, or you can die. David asks Noelle if she wants to win. Noelle tells him no. You can have a job, or you can kill yourself. When David tries to kill Noelle to help himself, isn’t that a mercy?

Of course it isn’t. It goes without saying that all of this is extremely fucked up. When it comes to disability, “cure” is a complicated concept. I’m not going to get into all the ways it can be treated; this post is already a thousand words long. But I do think that Worm, through Noelle and David and the concept of the Cauldron vial, provides an extremely vivid picture of the problems with cure. 

Under ableist logic, when you have a disability, a cure is something you’re expected to want. Without it, the story goes, you can’t be useful. You can’t do boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. The expectation is social, like the act of staring. Your desire for it should drive how you organize your life – it is control, like a quarantine. David is crushed by that expectation. He throws his lot in with Cauldron, the cure-makers. The expectation is passed along to Noelle, and even though David can recognize that inheritance, he cannot imagine any other way to respond to it other than attempted murder.

At the beginning of this post, I mentioned that Flowers for Algernon is a tragedy. The reason that story has stuck with me so long is that I keep going back and forth as to why. Is it a tragedy because Charlie goes back to being disabled? There’s a good chance that’s what the author intended. I don’t know. It would be a pretty shitty story if that were the case. Is it a tragedy because people only treat Charlie well when he’s “cured,” and when that stops, he’ll go back to abuse? Seems plausible. I don’t think there’s one right answer. Regardless, when you’re disabled, there’s an immense pressure to seek out a cure, and a cognizable loss when it is withheld. The fact that Worm captures that social pressure and social loss so well is extremely compelling for me, and I’m going to be thinking about these characters for a long time.

[thegreymarveljedi]

Permanent Scars

(Hunter + Omega + Echo (NO ROMANCE!!))

This is a fic that was requested to me by @genericficerblog

I apologize for how short it is and for how long it took me to finish but I am actually quite proud of how this turned out!

Characters: Omega, Hunter, Echo

Type(s): Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Setting: Rex's Ship

Era: Shortly after Season 3 Episode 7

Other Small Details: Omega mentions something about her time on Kamino when talking about Tantiss. When Hunter and Echo probe a bit later, Omega gives an insight into the horrors she endured.

Please also include Omega showing her extensively IV Scarred Upper Arms/

(I hope this isn't too heavy for you)

This is not my usual type of story but I think branching out and writing different things is good and I think it helped me a lot.

I also want to preface again that there is NOTHING ROMANTIC BETWEEN THESE CHARACTERS. Whatever is in this story is strictly between siblings. If anyone tries to say otherwise you will be blocked from my page indefinitely.

Warning: ANGST!!, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of medical procedures, needles, scarring, medical equipment, neglect, mistreatment, loneliness, Hunter and Echo being dads.

(DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY ANYTHING MENTIONED IN THE WARNINGS ABOVE!! There are plenty of other fluffy stories on my Masterlist that are not angsty)

Words: 1.2K

—————

The ship was quiet for now, not many words to be spoken between the group after their losses on Teth. Rex and Hunter continued to speak in hushed voices as everyone else tried to shake off the awful feelings of the close calls.

Omega had woken up and was still leaning against batcher, just looking at the needle scaring on her left hand. She was used to endless needles from her time on Kamino and just like those scars, these would fade but never go away.

Omega stood up and walked over to Echo, taking his hand in hers. Echo jumped a little at the contact, not expecting Omega to be up.

“Everything okay kid?” He asked and kneeled down to her height, checking her over briefly.

“Do we have any bacta on board?” She asked quietly. Echo’s eyes went a little wide and he gave her another once over but Omega stopped him by raising her hand.

“I’m not hurt, I just want to put some on to help the scars fade,” she said and Echo visibly winced at the many needle marks etched into the young girls hand.

“Yeah, let’s go get you some,” Echo said and ushered Omega to the back of the ship, helping her sit up on the cot they had there.

Hunter had heard the whole exchange and from where he stood with Rex, excusing himself to check on Omega when he walked into the space, he closed the door to give the three of them privacy, walking over and giving Omega a short hug.

Omega returned the embrace readily, let her shoulders relax. Echo returned with bacta not a moment later and Hunter helped Omega out of her jacket, only to be left in her outfit from Pabu.

“How are you feeling Omega?” Hunter asked, checking Omega over just as Echo had done.

“I’m doing fine,” she replied shortly as Echo pulled up the sleeve of her left arm to rest in the middle of her forearm. He took her hand a gentle began to massage the bacta into it, being mindful not to apply so much pressure to the still slightly tender skin.

Omega closed her eyes and tried to breathe, not used to having anyone but AZ to help her with this process. Hunter Nnoticed and put his hand on Omegas shoulder, encouraging her to take deep breathes.

“I’m sorry if it hurts kid,” Echo said as he finished up, closing up the tube of bacta and going to put it away.

“It’s okay. Nothing I haven’t gone through before,” she said, looking down at her now bactaed and wrapped hand.

“What do you mean?”

“What?”

“What do you mean it’s nothing you haven’t been through before?”

Omega hesitated with her response, not having fully discussed with her brothers the exact treatment she received on Kamino. She trusted them immensely but this was something she didn’t like talking about. Echo had returned and was now standing with Hunter, not wanting to push Omega but also curious as to what she meant. She sighed, knowing it was futile to hide anything from her brothers.

“Tantiss wasn’t pleasant by any means. But somehow I was able to endure what they put me through. The needles everyday, the sight of my brothers beaten down and broken, the stoic faces of the doctors and the unforgiving loneliness I felt,” she spoke softly and Echo and Hunter listened. Both of them felt guilty for her capture after Eriadu, the lost of Tech hitting everyone hard and making them vulnerable.

“It felt almost like Kamino in a way. I was alone except for Nala se, the other Kaminoans were never mean but they also weren’t welcoming to me. Watching everyday as more of my brother came in from the front lines injured or shaken up was awful,” she took a deep breath, wiping away some of the tears that had gathered in her eyes. Recounting her time on either planet was hard, but she wanted to push through talking about it.

Omega rolled up her sleeves further and both Hunter and echo gasped at the shear about of scars that littered her arms. There were about 100 needle scars between both arms, some patches of skin bruised to indicate some kind of patch being used as well. There were a few scars along her forearms that indicated a scalpel had been used and burn marks here or there. Her arms were covered in them, all reminders of her time on Kamino not just as a science experiment, but as a prisoner.

“Omega,” Hunter whispered almost silently. She put up her hand to stop him as she kept talking.

“I was an experiment to them and nothing more. To Nala se, I was like a daughter but one that she could use as a test subject without feeling guilty about it. My blood was take, parts of my skin were tests, I was hooked up to wires almost everyday,” the haunted tone behind her voice made Echo turn away briefly to wipe his own eyes, flashes from his time on Skako Minor returning to him. She stood up and moved the hem of her pants down just the slightest bit to show the scars on her hips as well.

“They took bone marrow, part of my liver, so many things were taken and they always left scars. With time they faded and with AZ’s help I put bacta on them to help them heal and fade faster but the scars are permanent,” Omega said and readjusted her clothes, making sure that her scars were covered up once again.

“It’s not something I like talking about but I guess it gets easier when I do. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” She said and Hunter enveloped her in a tight hug, leaving no room for argument.

“You have nothing to apologize for Omega, none of this was your fault. Not Kamino, not Tantiss, not any of it,” Hunter spoke softly, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he held his sister. Echo wrapped his arms around both of them, trying his best to contain his emotions as he patted Omega’s back gently.

“You’re safe now Omega. You’ll never be alone again. No one will hurt you anymore and you won’t have to go back to either of those awful places,” Echo said and he felt Omega nod into the hug, her shoulders shaking with raw emotions.

“Thank you. Both of you, for never giving up on me.”

“You’re our kid Omega. You always will be.”

Echo nodded in agreement as he pulled away from the hug. Hunter slowly did as well, keeping close to Omega as she wiped her eyes.

“Thank you listening to me. I know it’s not easy to hear about this, especially for you Echo,” she said and looked to him. Echo shook his head and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Like you said, it gets easier the more you open up about it,” he said and squeezed he shoulder very gently. Omega smiled at him and wiped away the last of her tears.

“We’ll protect you kid. I promise,” Hunter said and helped Omega down from the cot once more. She nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist again, wanting just one more hug. Hunter happily Obliged, wanting to reassure Omega that she was safe and sound.

—————

If you or someone you know has gone through a traumatic experience, please reach out to a helpline. DON’T go about suffering in silence. You’re loved by people and there are people out there who want to help you❤️

[ihavedonenothingright]

An Update to the Shendex

Hello all!

A little while ago, I made a post asking people to send me a list of main characters or love interests in danmei with the surname "Shen" in order to create a comprehensive list. That received a bit more traction than I thought it would, but not much in the way of new Shens. I am happy to announce, however, that I have googled the hell out of this and found an additional 20+ Official, Honorary, and Supporting Character Shens to add to the prospective Shendex. Here is the list (at present).

The Current Shendex

Seven Seas Danmei

Shen Shiliu/Gu Yun (Stars of Chaos)

Shen Qiao (Thousand Autumns)

Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan (The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System)

Shen Wei (Guardian)

Shen Zechuan (Ballad of Sword and Wine)

Novel Updates

Shen Ci (Vase Cannon Fodder Is Pampered by the Group Again)

Shen Gurong (Transmigrated Into The High-Risk Profession Life As A Master)

Shen Jin (After Being Moved to Tears by the Sworn Enemy’s Pheromones)

Shen Jin (Agreement Mark)

Shen Jue (A Hundred Ways To Kill A Heartthrob)

Shen Junci (Insights of the Medical Examiner)

Shen JunXi (Transmigrated into the Pastoral Scenery)

Shen Ke (Dandy Escapes From Marriage)

Shen Kong (The Professional Three Views Rectifier [Book Transmigration])

Shen Li (After the Accident, My Boyfriend Got Straight)

Shen Lin (Welcome to the Game Room of Supremacy Luck)

Shen Mofeng (No Money)

Shen Qi (Applaud for Happiness)

Shen Qianling (Everywhere in Jianghu is Wonderful/The Jianghu is Full of Local Tyrants)

Shen Qingcheng (Please Stop Pretending To Be a Cute Newcomer!)

Shen Ruo (Turned out I am a Scheming Little Cannon Fodder)

Shen Tanqi (The Male Lead Ran Away With My Ball)

Shen Tingzhou (I’m a Family Doctor in a Domineering Boss Novel)

Shen Ye (Accidentally Marked The Archenemy)

Shen Yu (Silent Concubine)

Shen Yunxing (Pregnant With The Pup Of A Wealthy Old Man)

Shen Zhixian (It's Not Easy Being a Master)

Honorary Shens

Fu Shen (Golden Terrace)

Lu Tian Shen (Dramatic Fake Young Master Holds the Group’s Favorite Script)

Luoshen (Let Me Go, I’m Not Pregnant)

Tang Shen (The Kingdom That Never Sleeps)

Xu Shen (Transmigrating to 1983)

Supporting Character Shens

Shen Jiu (The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System)

Shen Xingtang (Genius Mechanic)

Shen Yi (Stars of Chaos)

Shen Yuanting (Transmigrated as a Cannon Fodder Who Married into a Wealthy Family)

Now Onto Business...

Now that I have enough Shens to justify the existence of the Shendex, the question becomes how to format it. I'm not the best with this sort of thing, so anyone who wants to help is completely welcome (just DM me). As for how it should look... let's put it to a vote.

My aim is for every entry to include the characters used for each entry's name, a picture if possible, and a quick description of their story as well as a link to it. This could take a while, so I think I'll update it in bits and pieces. As always, you are welcome to send in a Shen if you please---just make sure to stick to danmei because otherwise this thing is going to get looooooong.

See you all next update!

[herejusttosufferalong]

Hello, SEX anon again.

YOOOOOO, we have been fed so well these past few days. Isn't it?! I was getting a little peckish and A03 wasn't really filling me up. Slutty smirk. Then poof. Everything I ever dreamed about, on my plate. In my mouth. Blessed with fresh pics of N at Wimbledon. White last year, black this year. I see you, girl. That dark side coming out but your face like an angel. Ta-tas for days. Good for fkn you. Can confirm all previous statements.

Then before that we get BTS of an actual, irl wedding between L&N. I was fkn sobbing uncontrollably. Look at her cute cherub face, talking about shitting herself, placing her hand on his god damn heart. Are you trying to fck with me? You are the realest person I've ever seen in my life, I love you and if I met you my eyes would pop out and I would die peacefully having breathed the breath that you breathed in my vicinity. Thank you, I love you.

Then there's that goofy L. Jaw on the floor. Eyes bulging. Drinking her all up. Breathing her in Hocus Pocus style. Being all David Brent when startled by the cameraman. Yeah, guy, you're being filmed. This is a set. GUY. LOOK at me. We're filming. HELLO? Nup, gone. And them just having those glazed over eyes, just emotionally spent, just overcome, just in love, but not aware or maybe are aware, but I like the way you feel physically, and you look perfect, and you smell nice, and I cannot stop looking at your lips and eyes and your lips, and oh bohy. It must be fkn draining. It must be so hard to get married and pretend it's fake. I imagine that would be so challenging, but you know, they the pros.

Full disclosure, I wasn't present when this gift came to light. I was minding my own business, getting slightly high with my partner (medical, of course), thinking of ways to confess my love of Lukola and get his ADHD male POV. That sweet anon with toddlers inspired me to come clean. But it didn't go so well initially, because I was all slowed down, and laughing nervously, and saying shit like "I need to tell you something... please don't judge me... oh god". He looked like L when some man touch N. So yeah, I wouldn't recommend. But it all turned out just fine. What would've taken 10 mins took about 2 hours to explain. Tangents upon tangents of Brazil and security guards and Rory and the forehead stroke. But we got there. Ngl, we analysed hard. Every position. It was hot af. Some insights:

After two seconds watching L&N interview - "that guy is lost, he clearly wants her though... got some self-confidence issues... giving me Karl Pilkington vibes... she's like his carer". Fkn lol. Me being like N defending L "but like he's a nice guy, like a sweet sensitive guy". "Yeah he seems like it but he's clearly out of her league...". Me holding onto Lukola delulu so hard, "I know but he could get to her level, don't you think?". Please for the love of god. "Yeah but it's all down to him. He's the problem". YEP WE KNOW.

L is a "leaf in the wind" blowing everywhere, no foundation in himself, that's why his behaviour is so confusing. L is not aware of his feelings on a conscious level or not fully accepting it. Flirty behaviour followed by odd looks explained by liking her touch and closeness but not wanting others to know he likes it. Thinks they caught feelings on set. Didn't go ahead because of filming and being 'in character'. Reunited after filming, cue pics of them together, and lots of chatter about them being together irl. Thinks that L's friendship group may have joked about it, gave him shit for it, and L buried those feelings deep. May have been getting thirst messages after 'glow up', pumped up by fuck boy mates, ego takes over. Opts for friend-approved doll. Feelings came up again during press tour when separated from friends. May have acted impulsively on said feelings - Brazil possibly. Possibly shut down by N due to timing and messy third parties. Back to London and influences. Lost again.

My desperate question, "Will he find his way back? To self-actualisation???" "It would be hard for someone like him to find his true self when surrounded by those people". Me still hopeful, "Oh but he'll probably be away from them when they start s4 filming". Him being logical af. "Could be a good opportunity... I can only see two ways of him changing... either he reaches rock bottom and starts to wonder why he's so miserable, and even then maybe not... or someone he trusts and respects talks him round... but it's going to be really hard for him... he's asleep at the wheel". Ok, gotcha. Fck this is gonna be a slow process, guys.

But then again they already married so who gives a fck.

"But then again they already married so who gives a fck."

I FUCKIN LOVE YOU ANON

PLS SEND MORE 💜🥃

[toboldlygohome]

My Hero

Leonard McCoy x Reader

Summary: When a ground mission goes south, it's up to you to make sure the doctor makes it back safe and sound.

Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Spock

Warning(s): Violence, Wounds, Cursing, Mild Suggestive Themes, McCoy Complaining

To say things weren't going well would be the understatement of the century. It was supposed to be an easy mission, but that's always how these stories start, huh?

The scanners indicated a series of underground caverns, ones that appeared artificial. Ruins that the archaeology department just couldn't go without exploring. Scanners also claimed there were no life forms within these caverns. The scanners were wrong.

You were the head of security aboard the USS Enterprise. As such, it was your duty to ensure the safety of the crew and perform a risk assessment. Chief Medical Officer McCoy joined you to run some scans, testing for biohazards that would put the ship at risk. Also accompanying you were two other security officers, two engineers to check the structural integrity of the tunnels, a biology officer, and an archaeology officer.

Once the entrance was found, your team discovered that the caverns were actually a sprawling ancient city built in a massive cave system. You also discovered that your communicators weren't working the deeper you traversed the city. If only that were the end of your worries. Two hours into the excursion, a loud echo of rubble falling came from the direction of the entrance. And if that wasn't enough, you were swiftly and brutally attacked by a sizable group of strangers who must have been using the city as a hideout.

In the pandemonium that followed, part of the ceiling came down and cut you off from the rest of the team. It was just you and Dr. McCoy, lost in a labyrinth of ancient ruins and unmapped caves. The doctor was a smart man, a man you greatly respected, a man you were proud to call a friend (for the most part). But he was the last person you would want to be trapped underground with. Complaints came to him as easily as breathing and with every wrong turn, his agitation only grew worse.

"I can't believe this, we just had to explore the underground city and for what? What could we possibly gain from coming down here?" Leonard grumbled.

"Knowledge about a lost civilization? Insight into what it takes for an intelligent species to naturally go extinct?" You suggested as you led him deeper into the city, careful to avoid any traps the armed strangers might have set for you.

"Who cares?! This place is a deathtrap, a goddamned asthma attack waiting to happen! We had no business sticking our nose where it didn't belong, and where did it get us?! I'll tell ya where! Trapped miles underground with an armada of murderous cave dwellers, with no way of contacting the ship!"

"Why don't you complain a little louder doctor, I can still hear myself think. And while you're at it, how about you go ahead and alert all our enemies to our exact location." You snapped, keeping your voice down despite the frustration.

Leonard huffed and looked away from you.

"Look..." You sighed, "I know this situation sucks, but losing our heads isn't going to get us out of here. I'm doing everything in my power to find our team and get back to the ship. I need you to have a little faith in me for once. Can you manage that?" You asked as calmly as possible.

"What the hell do you mean, for once?" Leonard frowned.

You hesitated, unsure if you really wanted to open that can of worms, but he had already worn down your patience. You gave in. "Come on Doctor, it's no secret you have zero trust in me as the Chief Security Officer."

"That's not-"

"There's no point in denying it now. I mean, all you ever do is criticize my work and admonish me for being reckless." You stated cooly, keeping your eyes fixed on the path before you.

"Well, what do you expect me to do when you come back from half your missions with cuts and bruises?" McCoy groused.

"I expect you to do your job and heal me, not tell me how to do mine. I'm a security officer, Injuries are par for the course I'm afraid."

"Doesn't mean you have to throw caution to the wind every chance you get. You volunteer for every single dangerous situation you can find and act surprised when it goes wrong! Seriously, it's like you and Jim have this intense, cosmic desire to play the goddamned hero and be a general pain in my ass. Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe seeing you like that bothers me?"

"You know what bothers me doctor?" You turned to look at him. "The fact that I have undergone rigorous self defense training in four kinds of martial arts, various forms of aerial combat, tech weapons, as well as training in tracking, risk assessment, reconnaissance, and mediation; yet, you still think so lowly of me as an officer that you think I'm the type of person who throws caution to the wind. I'm not careless, I don't take unnecessary risks. I want to live for a long time, but more than that, I want you and the crew to live for a long time. If that means I get bumped around every so often, that's fine by me. Of course I volunteer for all the missions. I'm the Chief Security Officer. If I wasn't the most qualified person for the job, I wouldn't be the CSO." An unreadable expression passed over Leonard's face as you spoke. "Now I'm going to do what I came down here for, and you're just going to have to be okay with that because I don't know what else I can say to get you to believe in me."

A muscle feathered in Leonard's jaw as you turned around and started walking again. The two of you had your fair share of lighthearted quarreling before, but you had never been so... angry at him.

You were right of course, danger was a part of your job and it wasn't fair of him to criticize you for being dedicated. The ship has known a lot less casualties since you arrived. In fact, your presence has made his job easier. But every time you returned to the ship battered and bleeding, Leonard grew more afraid that next time you wouldn't come back at all.

Bones had allowed his feelings for you to get in the way of his professionalism, and if your reaction was anything to go by, perhaps even your friendship as well.

You normally got along quite well. You'd share meals during breaks and join him after hours for a drink. Leonard always found it strange you never talked about your work with him, but he always chalked it up to you just needing a break from your job. Instead you both talked about your hobbies, plans for the future, memories from the past, pretty much anything and everything but your job. The only times you ever had disagreements were when you came back hurt after a mission. He always assumed you understood that his comments about your recklessness came from a place of care and concern. In retrospect, it was a stupid thing to assume.

Leonard needed to apologize, to clear up this terrible misunderstanding before your resentment grew into something unfixable.

"Y/N, I'm-"

"Shh-" You froze and held your hand up, signaling him to stop.

Leonard froze as well. Everything was quiet... too quiet. His eyes darted to you. Your hands inched toward your phaser like you were anticipating an attack he had yet to detect. You stayed that way for a few moments, eyes darting this way and that. Eventually, you relaxed your shoulders and turned back to Bones with a finger to your lips. Leonard nodded and you were both on your way again.

He had never seen you in action before. In all the time you had been on the ship together, he'd never had the pleasure of seeing first hand how you dealt with a crisis on foreign soil. He could see now how you had made such a difference. You were level-headed and confident. Even after your little spat, you were doing your job to keep him safe so diligently. Bones also noticed how quiet you were. If you weren't right in front of him, he might not have even known you were there. He watched as you expertly avoided shuffling your feet and kicking rocks. He made sure to step where you were stepping, or at least he tried to.

Leonard felt the ground give under his feet and he instantly knew he fucked up.

"God dam- AHHH!" Something snapped tight around his ankle and he hit the ground hard. Leonard felt the wind being abruptly pushed from his lungs and he couldn't decide what scared him more, the rope dragging him across the ground to god knows where, or the fact he couldn't catch his breath.

"Shit!" You gasped and pulled out your phaser. "Leonard, hold on!" You sprinted after him and shot at the rope, but it was hard to hit such a small target. Then you saw his destination. There was a massive ravine at the end of the chamber. No time for thinking.

You planted your feet firmly on the ground and aimed at the rope. You clenched your jaw hard and shot.

The beam flew.

Leonard watched the light sever the rope, just in time!

He came skidding to a stop right at the lip of the cliff.

Bones was lost in a daze of adrenaline, but luckily you had the presence of mind to drag him back.

"Doctor? Len, are you okay?" You crouched beside him and took his face in your hands.

"Just peachy! What the hell happened?!" Bones groaned and sat up, with your assistance of course.

"Looks like you activated a trap, doc." You frowned.

"How's my back?" He winced.

"You got some skid marks, but it looks like your uniform did a pretty good job protecting you. I think you'll live." You said gently. Leonard administered a hypospray to himself and you helped him up.

Looking down in the chasm, you shook your head and huffed. "Looks like we're gonna have to find another way down. Why don't you take a breather and I'll look around?"

"Breather my ass," Leonard grumbled, "You just want me out of the way so I don't step on any more goddamned traps."

"Hey, you said it. Not me," You joked.

"At least have the courtesy to deny it!" He scoffed.

You laughed and handed him your communicator, "Here, yours got all busted during your tumble. Keep trying to get in contact with the Enterprise and I'll be back before you know it. Just don't touch anything. Think you can handle that?"

"Just get out of here before I schedule all your vaccinations for tomorrow." He scowled and fiddled with the communicator.

You snickered and went on your way.

Leonard grumbled to himself as he tried to get a signal. Dammit, he was a doctor! Not an engineer! After ten minutes of nothing, he huffed and ran a hand over his face. It was no use, they were in too deep. Their only hope of rescue would be that the captain realized something was off and sent a team after them.

In the meantime, he was at least happy to have some alone time with you-

"I think I found a way down," you said, startling the doctor so badly he almost jumped out of his skin.

"Dammit Y/L/N," He stood and dusted off his rear end, "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"You say that like it's a difficult thing to accomplish," you smirked.

"You're hilarious. Why are we going down anyway, isn't that the opposite of what we want to do?" Leonard scowled.

"Down is the only direction left to go. It's not ideal, but it's all we have. I also heard talking coming from the bottom of that chasm. It's not in a language I understand, which means it's likely the cave dwellers. If they're hanging out down there, it probably means there's a path that loops back around. We'll have to keep quiet though, don't want them to know we're following."

Leonard's heart betrayed him and decided to start beating faster of its own accord. Sure, he found it really attractive when you showed off your intelligence. Of course he thought it was enticing when you spoke confidently, like the universe bowed to your whim. Did that mean he wanted to be spellbound by your endless charisma in such a dire situation? Hell, maybe he did. He wasn't even sure anymore...

"Sound good, doctor?"

He thought back to your... conversation about him having no faith in you. "Sounds great. Lead the way," he replied.

~~~

The path down was thin and arduous. The stairs could hardly be considered stairs anymore. It was more like a damp slide made of mineral buildup. Leonard was also beginning to realize he needed to do some more intense leg workouts. There was an exercise routine that all crew members were required to follow. But regardless of the shape he was in, his ass was burning! Time to up the incline on the treadmill.

You, however, were doing just fine. Not a single slip in the wet terrain. He could tell you were moving slower to keep Leonard from falling behind, which was only slightly embarrassing.

At the bottom of the ancient waterslide, there was a pool of questionable depth. Leonard cursed under his breath. The water was dark and so was everything else, even with their flashlights. They could walk right into a 400 foot drop and they wouldn't even know it. At least the waterfall flowing nearby would mostly drown out their screams.

You turned to Leonard and held your hand out to him. Thank god it was dark, you would have seen his face light up like the fourth of July! His blush only grew when you leaned in close to his ear. "Stay close. We're gonna take it slow," you whispered. He nodded and grasped your hand tight.

You waded into the freezing water and pulled McCoy along with you. Taking careful, controlled steps forward, you searched the floor for holes. The two of you moved at a snail's pace, but Leonard hardly cared. Better to be slow and steady than fast and... reckless.

You suddenly stopped, causing McCoy's chest to slam into your back. You flailed, teetering on some unseen edge. You tried to push him back, but Leonard's arms found your waist and pulled you into him.

"Dammit. Are you okay?"

"Peachy," you huffed. "Found a hole.''

"I figured," he slowly let go and tried to peer into the water. He saw nothing but darkness. Terrifying. God damned terrifying.

"How good are you at swimming?" you asked.

"Good when I can see where I'm going."

"Want to brave the waters, or go around?"

"I'd rather not have my pants and my shirt wet if I can help it."

"Go around it is."

Turns out the hole was huge. It took a long time to trace the perimeter, but eventually you ended up on the other side. You were both dripping and freezing, but at least you weren't drowning victims. Always look on the bright side.

Once you cleared the roar of the waterfall, it was back to silence. The alien voices were getting louder and louder with each step. Leonard wouldn't be surprised if they stumbled on a gaggle of them just around the corner. You kept your phaser in hand just in case. Leonard had his out as well... but he was a doctor, not a gunslinger.

The path slowly grew more steep, traveling upward like a real-life stairway to heaven. Huh... They had to go down... to go up... Leonard wondered why anyone would design a path this way. The corridor ended in a sharp turn, which you had the presence of mind to investigate before barreling in like you owned the place. There was an alcove with five unknown people of indiscernible origin. The one thing you were sure of was that they were not Human, Vulcan, Romulan, Ferengi, Klingon, or Andorian. In fact, these guys had four arms each, so you were able to rule out a great deal of species.

Normally, you would turn around and find a different route, but this was the only way forward. Leonard watched as you checked to ensure your phaser was on the stun setting. Nope, he did not like this one bit. What if you missed?! Were you really going to take on five people at once? He grabbed your arm and shook his head. You frowned and leaned into his ear once again. "There's no other way. I don't like it either... Stay back."

McCoy reluctantly did as you said. You outranked him. He didn't really have a choice. You stepped out from around the corner and shot off exactly five blasts. The doctor didn't see the beams make contact, but he did see the aftermath and... goddamn...

"Shit, darlin'," he placed his hands on his hips as he glanced over the room. "Remind me never to piss you off."

You holstered your phaser. "We should keep going... Could you give them a scan, doctor? Just to make sure I didn't... you know."

"Say no more, I'll have this done in a jiffy."

You snorted, "jiffy?"

"Don't even start."

"Adorable," you smiled and started collecting the weapons that had been haphazardly strewn on the floor.

McCoy nearly dropped his scanner.

'Come on man, get yourself together! You're a doctor for crying out loud! Act like one!'

Leonard shook his head of all thoughts regarding the implications of your one-word compliment. Instead, he focused on the readings of the scan. Oh, looks like these people are Kaviran. Kavirans are an endangered species of nomadic planet-hoppers. They're increasingly rare to find, no wonder he didn't know who they were at a glance. All five of them seemed to be in good health.

"I reckon they'll be just fine," Leonard stood and attempted to dust off his pants. It just smeared in like mud because the fabric was still damp.

"I reckon we better be on our way then," you smirked. While he was working, you hid the weapons... somewhere. Leonard was so caught up in the scans that he didn't see where you stashed them.

Leonard trailed behind you once again, but you had picked up the pace. He wasn't complaining per se, the sooner you got out of here, the better. The hard thing was realizing just how tired he was. What time was it? How long had they been down here? Surely Jim had noticed something was off by now!

McCoy cursed under his breath and pulled out your communicator he borrowed earlier... still no signal.

"Damn useless hunk of junk," the doctor grumbled.

"Still nothing?"

"Nothing. Seriously, what's the point in carrying these things around if they never work when you need them to?"

You nodded in agreement. "At least this might push Starfleet to do an overhaul of our coms technology. We needed one, like... yesterday," you chuckled.

"You can say that again... And while they're at it, they can update our ship's scanners. This place was supposed to be empty, remember?" McCoy raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be sure to put it in my report, along with a request for waterproof shoes," you grinned back at him.

"You know, I could go for a hot shower right about now," Leonard hummed.

"Head out of the clouds please, doctor."

"My head is currently as far from the clouds as it could possibly be. I'm 2,576 meters underground."

"Where'd you pull that number from?" you chuckled.

"My ass," he grumbled.

"That sounds very unsanitary, doc."

"Well, I would have pulled it out of my medical bag, but I lost it during the cave-in."

"Oh yeah, I thought you were missing somethi- Wait... where did you get the hypo from?" you turned to look at him.

"Hypo?" he asked.

"When you got caught in the trap, you gave yourself a hypospray to help with the pain. Where did you get it from?" you asked incredulously.

"Sweetheart, a good doctor always keeps a backup in his pocket. Especially when you've been a field medic as long as I have," Leonard said.

"And how long is that?" you chuckled.

"Never ask a man his age," Leonard winked. His eyes were probably playing tricks on him... but he could have swore he saw you blush. You turned away before he could confirm his suspicions.

"I'll just look it up in your file later," you teased.

"Isn't that a breach of conduct?" the doctor huffed.

"I'll be evaluating a security risk."

"Security risk?"

"Absolutely. Can't have a dinosaur operating on the crew~"

"We're the same age, smart-ass."

"Damn, doctor. You look good for your age." You turned and winked back at him.

Now it was Leonard's turn to be flustered. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times like a fish out of water, unable to form a sentence that would make even a lick of sense. McCoy finally settled on rolling his eyes and turning his attention to the cave walls. You just laughed and faced forward again.

With how you were acting, Leonard could almost believe things were normal, that he was not hundreds of feet underground. He could almost believe he was back on the Enterprise, playing darts with you in the recreation room... He could almost believe everything was okay between you.

He had been feeling it since, have a little faith in me for once, fell from your lips. McCoy had been a doctor for years, he knew what bedside manner looked like. You were trying to keep him at ease, pretending everything was fine... but it wasn't. The jokes... the smiles... they were all just tools for de-escalation. He thought through what he had said earlier about you coming back with all the cuts and bruises. He meant what he said, it does bother him... But it wasn't what he wanted to say.

He wanted to tell you that he trusts you, that he always will. He wanted to say that... that you're the bravest person he's ever met. He wanted to take it all back. Instead of calling you reckless, he should have said that seeing you in pain hurts him more than any physical wound he'd ever had.

He should have said, I'm sorry...

He could do it now. Was now the right time? When is it appropriate to apologize? When was it not? God, Leonard was such a mess. Why was it so hard to just say sorry?! It wasn't his pride getting in the way! If it was, he wouldn't even be able to admit any wrongdoing! 'Just say it you bastard! Tell them! It's on the tip of your tongue!'

"Y/N?"

"Yes, doctor?"

He didn't have time to speak. A deep, aggressive tone echoed down the dripping cave halls. It sounded like... a war horn? You turned back to look in the direction you just came from with a grave expression.

"Len, you're gonna have to hold that thought."

~~~

He couldn't quite remember when he started running, but down the narrow passage he flew, stumbling occasionally over uneven terrain. The wind screamed in his ears. Leonard was sure he had never run so fast in his life. You were right behind him, letting him set the pace, never passing him by. He wasn't sure how long he had been going for, but his lungs burned and his legs shook with every stride. He could stand for hours during surgery, but running nonstop through a cave was a whole different ballgame for him.

Leonard could hear yelling and heavy footfalls, but was unsure of which direction they were coming from. Were they being followed, or were they running into a trap? He found his answer soon enough when he skidded to a halt in front of twenty Kavirans... twenty-one actually. Then, when he thought the situation couldn't get any worse, the five Kavirans you left behind in the tunnel came up from the rear. You were boxed in. Two against twenty-six.

You pulled McCoy behind you, phaser poised to shoot at a moment's notice. It wouldn't do him much good when the cave-dwellers decided to attack, but he appreciated the sentiment.

"Humans. Lower your weapons and you will be left unharmed." One of the Kavirans said in gurgly English.

"I will not lower my weapon until your colleagues all do the same." You said cooly.

"To make this stand would be foolish. Lower your weapon," the Kaviran you assumed was the leader reiterated.

"It is against policy to lower my weapon until I have ensured the safety of the crew in my care."

"You attacked our people in our own home. You are in no place to bargain."

"You attacked us unprovoked shortly after we arrived. If we had known this place was occupied, we would have left it alone. We were on a scientific excursion. There was no intent to do you any harm-"

"And yet, five of my people have been ambushed." The leader gestured with one of his four hands to the slightly disoriented aliens behind you.

"I have no desire to fight you. Let us pass and we will leave you in peace." You seemed to realize it at the same time Leonard did. Discussion was futile. They wanted to kill you while putting in the least amount of effort possible. If you had no weapon to fight back with, what threat could you possibly pose?

"Lower your weapon," the leader scowled.

Leonard watched your shoulders tense. You raised your chin and narrowed your eyes at the Kaviran. "Doctor?" you said.

"What is it, Y/L/N?" Leonard clenched his jaw.

"Duck."

It took him a whole three-fourths of a second to register what you were asking of him, then he hit the deck.

You Immediately opened fire, taking down six Kavirans in a matter of seconds. You missed the seventh when your wrist was seized by one of the alien's long sticks, which clamped around your arm like the jaw of a beast and flipped you onto your back. You wrenched the stick out of his hand and snapped the shin of the guy beside you.

A heavy boot just barely missed your head. You ripped the weapon from your arm and swiped it under the legs of the assailant, driving your elbow into his ribs when he hit the ground.

Someone is on you. It's a mess of limbs. Four arms to your two. Your fist rattles his jaw. Once. Twice. Again.

He's on his back, your legs straddling his stomach as you wail on him. Four hands are on your shoulders. You grab two by the wrist and twist them out with a disgusting crunch.

Something burns in your shoulder as you stand. Leonard is on the ground, clawing at an alien's eyes with one hand, reaching for his phaser with the other. You grab the Kaviran by her hair and rearrange her face with your fist.

You're blinded by a sharp pain in your temple and the sound of phaser blasts barely breaks through the ringing. Bracing yourself on a rock, you catch your breath, but only for a second. A dodge, you grab the alien's stick and clock him in the stomach, then lock him in a choke hold with it. His four arms out-maneuver yours and the weapon is pulled from your hands.

Two more guys join in. A scramble for power ensues. You endure a barrage of punches. These guys are relying on arms. You force one into the wall with your shoulder and catch another in the spine with your foot.

Heavy breathing.

Shots are ringing out. The caves are dark and the only light is from the phaser, the laser guns, and the abandoned flashlights being kicked around the cave floor in the chaos.

The rest is over and your forehead clashes with an alien skull. Your side rips open on a rock as you fall to the ground, but you don't stay down for long. You decide to go for a new tactic, less hitting, more kicking.

One of them goes for a punch, you block with your forearm and bring your knee to her side before planting a swift kick to the face. The caves echo the sound of grunts and groans, fists and feet hitting flesh, and gunfire. You don't know where your phaser is, but you could really use it right about now.

Your eyes are starting to swell and everyone is starting to tire. You're relieved to see Leonard taking cover behind a rock column. You take another down, then another. Leonard is under heavy fire. If you can get the gunmen off him, then he will be free to stun the others into submission.

You run for the first gunman and surprise him with three well placed kicks, the other fires on you and misses miserably. You reward him with a broken nose and a dirt nap.

Your attention is occupied by four Kavirans, who lunge at you all at once. You're overpowered by the strength of their doubled limbs. One is holding down your arms, two more have subdued your powerful legs, and the last is destroying your face. You manage to yank one arm free to land a few hits on your main attacker, but it doesn't last long. Four hands are crushing your neck and-

Silence.

They all slump to the floor.

You lay there, too tired to fight the dead weight of the alien on top of you.

It wasn't until Leonard appeared like an angel sent from the heavens, that you finally remembered how to breathe. He pushed the guy off you and cradled your bloody face in his hands.

"Y/N? Darlin', can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, doc," your voice came out as a dry rasp.

McCoy pulled a hypo from his pocket. "That's really good sweetheart, can you tell me where the pain is?"

"Everywhere hurts. My legs are sore, but I can walk. My head and my ribs feel the worst. Something is definitely broken." you cleared your throat.

"I'm thinkin' you're right... any numbness?"

"Yeah, some down my right arm and near my ribs and chest." you gestured with your slightly-less-injured left arm.

"Nerve damage, nothing I can do about that until we're back on the ship," Bones hung his head and sighed in defeat. That was when you noticed a small stream of blood trickling down the side of his face. You reached up and tenderly tried to brush it away with your thumb, but you only managed to smear it.

"You're hurt... I'm sorry-" you started.

"I'm hurt?! You-" Leonard's voice betrayed him. Doctors were supposed to exude a sense of calm, but he just couldn't keep it in this time. "You're laying here in a pool of your own blood and you're worried about me?!"

"Has anyone ever told you that you have incredible bedside manner?" you winced and tried to sit up, but he pushed you back down.

"Don't. You. Even. Dare," he narrowed his eyes at you, pulled out his tri-corder, and snatched one of the rogue flashlights from the floor. The scan results made him want to rip his hair out. Your whole body was basically covered in one big bruise. Five broken ribs, a broken nose, several major lacerations, laser wounds, and a massive concussion. That wasn't even close to all of it, but one thing at a time.

He injected you with his last spare hypospray. Leonard really wished he had his goddamned kit right about now. The gashes in your side needed to be closed somehow. You were losing too much blood with the wound open like that. No auto-suture, no thread and needle, no bandages. There was only one option. Cauterization.

"Stay," Leonard ordered before grabbing a laser off of a fallen Kaviran and one of the metal sticks from the floor. The doctor blasted the end of the rod until it was red-hot and settled beside you again.

"That doesn't look fun," you pursed your lips.

"It won't be. It's going to hurt... a lot," Bones said.

"Great," you huffed and leaned back into the dirt.

"Lucky for you, Spock gave me some good practice with this method a few years ago. It'll be quick, I promise," he tried to reassure you.

"Yeah, yeah. Just get it over with, please."

"Deep breath in," Leonard whispered soothingly. You squeezed your eyes shut and did as he asked. He peeled back your red shirt and pressed the scorching metal to your skin before he could second guess himself. The sounds of agony you made were torture to his ears. The seconds felt like hours, but eventually the screams fell away to quiet shivers and pants.

McCoy used his sleeve to wipe away some of the blood on your abdomen. No new blood replaced it, meaning he successfully closed it! "All done, sweetheart. No more..." He tossed the rod away and held your face in his soft hands again.

"Well..." you caught your breath. "That wasn't so bad... I don't suppose you have any water in those magical pockets of yours?" you asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not," McCoy's eyes softened when they fell on you.

"It's fine, maybe I can ring out my pants and drink the water from our little swim earlier..." you joked.

Leonard sighed and shook his head, "Darlin', you are a force to be reckoned with..." He brought the cuff of his uniform to your cheek and tenderly wiped away whatever blood he could. Your face was swelling around the Orbital and Zygomatic regions. He could see it in your eyes... you were in a lot of pain and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. His med-kit was miles away, somewhere under several feet of debris.

"Where's my phaser?" you lifted your head, but he gently urged you back down.

"Easy there tiger, take a breather. I'll find it," McCoy groaned as he stood up. The hypo he used earlier for his back was starting to wear off. He must have been down here a lot longer than he realized.

The doctor scoured the floor for your phaser, but everything was so dark and his flashlight was getting low on power. After close to five minutes of searching, he swiped one of the enemy's lasers from the floor and brought it back to you. "Sorry, I know you aren't a fan of deadly weapons, but this is all we got."

You took a deep, shaky breath and forced yourself into a sitting position. "Let's hope I don't have to use it then..." you winced and placed the weapon in your holster. "We should get moving. These guys aren't gonna stay down for long."

Leonard nodded and brought your left arm around his shoulder, bracing your waist with his gentle hands. "Alright, up we go... Easy, easy. That was only a temporary fix back there..." he whispered. Slowly, Dr. McCoy eased you into a standing position. Almost immediately, your vision swam and your body sank against his.

"Oh..." you muttered, closing your eyes against the spinning room.

"Y/N? Talk to me. What are you feeling?"

"This is a bad concussion... the worst I've had. I feel like I'm sideways, standing on the wall instead of the floor."

"Okay, try taking a step for me."

You opened your eyes and took a step forward, but your upper body swayed to the side, attempting to account for the imaginary tilt. You probably would've fallen on your face if McCoy weren't there to catch you.

"Well, darlin' I gotta hand it to you. If you were any more off-center, you'd be the damned tower of Pisa"

"Leave me here... you need to go and find the others. I'll just slow you down."

"Out of the question. If the roles were switched, would you leave me behind?" McCoy raised his eyebrow disapprovingly.

"That's differen-"

"You and I both know that's a load of hooey. I'm not leaving you. End of story. Now sit here for a minute, while I figure something out."

You begrudgingly sat down on a rock, with Leonard's help of course, and watched as he paced for a few moments. You supposed he must have come up with something, because he stole a scarf from one of the aliens and started tying it around himself in various ways. You eventually decided to close your eyes. While you always enjoyed looking at the handsome doctor, your sense of vertigo was making it rather unbearable.

"Alright, I've got a plan, but it won't feel too good on your ribs."

"Great..." you mumbled, keeping your eyes shut.

"I'll try to be gentle-"

"I know Len... We're short on options and you're doing your best. It'll be okay... I trust you, " you offered him a smile. His heart did back-flips in his chest and it took everything in him not to tell you he loved you right then and there! Instead, he wrapped the scarf around you, hoping the extra support would make it easier to carry you long distance.

"Okay darlin', I'm gonna pick you up now... Is that okay?"

"I'm ready, go ahead," you said.

The moment your chest made contact with his back, you felt a wave of nausea-inducing pain all through your body. You pressed your face into his shoulder and tried not to make any noise. Leonard hoisted you up, hands clutching your thighs.

"How're you doing back there?" Leonard turned his head so you could hear him.

"Been better..." you managed. "Let's get moving doc, before I throw up on you or something."

"Wouldn't want that, would we?" he started walking away from the carnage at a brisk pace. His back was screaming at him, but he had no intention of putting you down. You winced at every sharp movement, so he tried to keep all shaking or bouncing to a minimum.

The path was tortuously uphill, with a few straightaways between that gave him some reprieve. Eventually, the cave walls gave way to carved buildings. The flashlight he had attached to his shirt was growing dimmer, so he was thankful for the more predictable pattern of the ancient roadways. All was quiet except for the shuffling of feet and running water. That was, until you spoke up.

"Hey Leonard?" you whispered. Your hot breath caused Bones to shiver.

"Yeah? What is it, do you need a break?" he asked

He felt you nod against his shoulder. You must be exhausted. Fatigue was common with concussions. He just needed to make sure you stayed awake until he could get you into a bio-bed.

"Just hold on a little bit longer, I think I hear a stream up ahead. Maybe we can get you that water you were asking for, huh?" he suggested.

You nodded again.

McCoy picked up the pace a little and started following the sound of the water. As luck would have it, they found what must have once been a beautiful fountain. Over the years, the water pouring from the ceiling ate away at whatever carving had been there. The fountain was now nothing more than a circular pool being fed by a small waterfall, but presentation matters not when you're as thirsty as a riverbed in a drought.

Leonard eased you onto the lip of the pool and leaned you back against a stone structure that probably used to be a retaining wall. He sat the scarf to the side and pulled out his tri-corder again. A quick scan informed him that the water was safe to drink. McCoy washed his mitts in the basin before cupping them under the waterfall. Once full, he brought them to your lips and urged you to drink.

He did this a few times until you seemed satisfied, only then did he allow himself a few sips. Bones stretched out his legs and cursed under his breath. His whole body felt like lead. He was sure you were enjoying the break too. That pressure on your chest must have been terrible, even with the medicine dulling the pain. Yet, you never complained. Not even once. He wished you would lean on him, let him give you some comfort. Instead, you were probably bracing for him to make some unsolicited comments about you and your work.

Leonard was pulled from his reverie when you tilted toward the water with the intent to cleanse yourself of the caked on blood. Your face contorted in discomfort and you pressed back against the wall. You took a moment to collect yourself and tried again, but McCoy stopped you with a soothing squeeze of the shoulder. "Let me do it..."

"Leonard, you don't-"

"You took down the quad-armed madmen, now it's my turn. You did your part... Let me do mine." He peered at you with those gorgeous hazel eyes and you were powerless to refuse. You nodded and leaned your head back against the rock.

He knelt in front of you and took your hands into his. Leonard's palms were soft and tender... the hands of a healer. Yours were bloody and busted and callused. You weren't sure it should be legal for you to touch someone like him. He didn't bend you toward the water. Instead, he got his hands wet and wiped away the stains using slow, circular motions. The cold water felt nice against the scrapes on your knuckles.

Bones was always gentle with you, even if he wasn't pleased with you. To be honest, it was one of the things you most looked forward to when you got back from a long mission. Amidst all the uncertainties in the universe, the one thing you could always count on was Leonard. You could count on a southern metaphor and a few well-placed medical jokes to keep you from falling apart at the seams. His smile, his voice, his touch... they were your anchor.

He should have left you behind. He probably would have made it to safety by now, but he was stubborn as a mule. No amount of arguing would shake him when his mind was made up. You couldn't decide whether you loved that about him or hated it.

You loved it, of course you did... You loved everything about him. No point in denying it now. You needed him safe, not here taking care of you.

"Leonard, I need you to do something for me..." you said.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he whispered in that drawl you loved so much.

"I need you to go and find the others," you murmured, peering at him through half-lidded eyes.

His hands ceased all movement and he looked at you with an ambivalent expression... the one he always wore when he was about to scold you. You sighed and braced for the impact.

"Are you out of your mind? I can't leave you here! It's not safe!" he furrowed his brows at you.

"That's exactly why I need you to go. I've put you in danger long enough. I'm not getting any better Leonard, I'm slowing you down."

"I'm not leaving," he glared at your hands as he washed them.

"Why do you always have to do this?" your voice shook.

Leonard froze.

"Why can't you just trust me? I'm trying to keep you safe! I've become a detriment to your survival. You have to leave me. Please. Just one time... I don't want to argue anymore... I just want you to live... I love you, dammit!" Tears carved a path through your bloodstained face.

Leonard's throat burned as he struggled not to cry. You meant it... He could see it in your eyes, hear it in the desperation in your voice. You were at your breaking point. The cool and confident Y/N was gone. He couldn't be a coward anymore. It was time to just come out and say it. But when he tried, all that came out was a remorseful croak. No. He had to show you.

Bones cradled the sides of your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. His body moved of its own accord, desperate to get closer. His breath hitched when your fingers snaked into his hair, your touch sent a wave of goosebumps down his arms. The kiss was clumsy, full of bumping foreheads and clashing noses in the dark. But despite the messiness of it all, he wanted nothing more than this moment to last forever.

The eagerness slowly melted into soft, slow kisses. Finally, Leonard pulled away, eyes swimming with regret. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks. His lips quivered on the edge of speaking.

"I can't leave you... I can't do it... I trust you... I don't think you're reckless, or foolhardy, or whatever else I've said through the years. You're a hero! My hero, and I think you're incredible at everything you do. You're the best damned CSO we've ever had on the Enterprise and I should have been tellin' you that all along," McCoy shook his head. "I'm sorry I led you to believe I thought you were anything less than perfect... I love you, Y/N... Don't ask me to leave you behind..." he pleaded.

McCoy's breath caught in his throat when you lightly grabbed his wrist. His eyes glinted off the ever-dimming flashlight, giving the illusion that stars were suspended within.

Your attention darted over to his hands... his impossibly soft hands. You allowed yourself the privilege of intertwining your fingers with his.

"Y/N?"

"Have I ever told you that you have beautiful hands?" You murmured tiredly.

"Can't say you have..." he whispered breathlessly.

"Well, you do... You've held my life in them so many times... You're my hero too..." you hummed and closed your eyes. You brushed your slightly-chapped lips over his knuckles, making Leonard melt to the core.

"Y/N..."

"It looks like we've reached an impasse... I love you too much to let you stay... You love me too much to leave..." You murmured against his fingers.

"Then I guess it's time we came up with a compromise..." Leonard whispered. You opened your mouth to respond, but an unexpected voice took you both by surprise.

"That is incorrect doctor, no compromise will be needed."

You had your laser out in a matter of seconds and Leonard had his flashlight aimed at the stranger. In the dim lighting, you could see that the person wasn't actually a stranger. It was Spock!

"What the- What- Spock?! How long have you been standing there?!" McCoy bellowed.

"Since you informed Commander Y/L/N that you love them," Spock raised an eyebrow and stepped closer.

"Dammit, Spock! Why didn't you say something?!"

"I felt it would be rude to interrupt-"

"Nevermind that. I need you to go get a stretcher and bring it here! Y/N is badly injured!" Instead of leaving like Bones expected, Spock pulled out his communicator. "Spock, that thing doesn't work down he-"

"Spock to field team. I need a stretcher at my location. I have left a trail for you to follow. Yes. Yes, I will inform them," the Vulcan closed his communicator and resumed his signature resting pose with his hands behind his back, "The medical team is on their way here with a stretcher and supplies."

"Now the communicator works!" Leonard threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Have you found the rest of the crew?" You asked, hope evident in your tired voice.

"Your team all made it out alive, Commander. Minimal injuries. They were placed under heavy surveillance, likely with the intention to sell our officers in an underground market. They managed to escape when a horn sounded. Several Kavirans left to investigate, leaving only two guards. Security officers Lewis and Elfan dispatched them quickly and led the others to safety. By the time they made it back to the entrance, rescue personnel had blasted their way in. They are resting in the medbay as we speak."

You released a sigh of relief and sagged against the stone. You could finally breathe easy knowing your team was alright. "Thank you, Spock."

"How far are we from the surface?" McCoy asked.

"2.414 kilometers," Spock replied.

"A mile and a half?! We were almost there?!"

"No doctor, you were going in the wrong direction. It is fortunate I found you when I did."

McCoy shot him a glare and returned his attention to you. "How are you feeling sweetheart? Do you need anything?"

"I need a nap..." you tried to smile.

"You can have one when we get back to the Enterprise. Think you can hold on a bit longer for me?"

"For you doc, I'd do anything," you winked.

Leonard blushed and smiled. "You're damn near ready to pass out and you're trying to make me weak in the knees~"

"You say that like it's a difficult thing to accomplish, doctor..." you whispered and shivered. The loss of blood had taken down your body temperature by a significant amount.

McCoy settled beside you on the floor, hissing as his scraped back made contact with the cool stone. You tucked yourself into his side and snickered.

"What?" he frowned.

"You smell terrible," you smirked back.

"Then why are you moving closer to me?"

"I'm hoping if I sit close to you, you'll kiss me again~" you joked.

Leonard didn't dare look at the Vulcan standing a few feet away. He didn't look at you either. He just sat there, practically steaming from the embarrassment.

"It was a joke, doctor," you teased.

Bones let out a sigh of relief.

"Jeez, don't sound too disappointed," You laughed and winced as a jolt ran through your ribs.

"you wanna kiss me that bad?" he asked.

"I've only been wanting to for like... a year," you shrugged.

He leaned close, his lips ghosted over your ear. "Don't worry darlin'. Once you're all healed up, you can have me all to yourself..." he drawled in a whisper.

Your face lit up like a wildfire. You were amazed at how quickly he had turned the tables on you...

At least you weren't cold anymore.

~~~

It took thirty minutes for the medical team to arrive with a stretcher and thirty more minutes to exit the cave. Almost as soon as the moonlight hit your face, you were beamed up onto the ship. You barely had a second to greet the Captain before you and Leonard were whisked away to the medbay. Due to the injuries McCoy sustained during his time underground, he was not permitted to operate on you. Dr. M'Benga took wonderful care of you and within the week, they allowed you to rest in your own room.

Leonard made regular house calls and sat by your side most nights after his shift. He was determined to help you make a swift recovery.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye, admiring the shadows his tousled brown hair was casting on his face. The doctor was trying not to doze off and failing miserably. It was a mesmerizing sight.

"You're staring, Darlin'," he murmured and peeked an eye open at you.

"Stop being so pretty and I'll stop staring," you shrugged. He rolled his eyes, but the blush gave him away. For his sake, you decided to change the subject. "You know, doctor... I never said thank you."

"Thank me? for what?" he asked.

"For saving my life..."

"You don't need to-"

"I do. It's not easy... your job, I mean. People like me, the fighters, get all the spotlight, but you put yourself on the line... carried me to safety. I saved your life once... You've saved mine... I don't even know how many times," your eyes softened. "Thank you for everything... "

Leonard stared at you for a moment before leaning in and kissing you softly. A sentry and a surgeon. The ultimate pair. After years of dancing around each other, you finally gave in.

Your doctor pulled away with a lazy grin and tucked your head under his chin. "There you go again, wooing me with your endless charisma."

"Says the man who's filled to the brim with southern charm."

"At least I don't use my charm as a means to get what I want."

"How else was I supposed to get your attention with you falling asleep over there?~"

"You could have asked nicely. Haven't you ever heard of the word, please?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Don't you worry darlin', you'll learn soon enough," he smirked against your temple.

You halfheartedly smacked McCoy's chest. "Slow down there, cowboy. My ribs are still broken," you sassed.

"Just giving you an incentive to heal quicker," he kissed your head and pulled you closer.

"Mhm..." you closed your eyes and listened to his steady heartbeat. A month ago, you could have only dreamed of holding him like this... of being held. Now he was here, tracing shapes on your shoulder with his delicate fingertips.

"Y/N?"

"Len?" you smiled, eyes still closed.

"I hope you know that I'd do it again... a billion times over," he said. You knew what he meant.

"Me too..." you hummed in agreement.

You'd take the beating again and again for him... and no matter how many beatings you took... you knew he'd be there waiting to make it better again. A vicious cycle.

"I love you," he whispered.

You wouldn't change it for the world.

"I love you too."

You had a lot of healing to do before you could fully embrace this exciting new development in your life, but for now, you were content.

Content, huh? Now that's the understatement of the century.

....................

Taglist: @shadowbriar

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Thank you for reading!

[sugaredrhubarb]

Reading with Ru: Aug/Sept Fic Recs

I know I'm certainly in need of some positivity and escapism lately, so I'm gonna try to do semi-regular fic and book recs! Starting with a retroactive what I've been reading from the past couple of months with this account! (I might go back in time and make an all-time rec list later)

COD

starting with cod because i know most of you go here

Sergeant Squeaks by @charliemwrites - (series of one-shots ghost x reader and price x reader separately) both one of my favourite reader characters and my favourite canon setting depictions of Ghost and Price. their own weird brands of showing love are wonderful; the tension leading to getting together is fantastic, and the sex is super enjoyable.

Ghost Stories by @kneelingshadowsalome - (ghost x medic!reader) I'm repeating myself, but I love Salome's writing. This is where I was first introduced to it, and I think it's really special. Ghost POV as he struggles with developing and then accepting love. felt so real and grounded. angsty and then fluffy, and you can't help but adore the reader as well.

saltwater by @ceilidho - (ghost x reader) It's pretty unlikely any of you don't know Ceil, but on the off chance you haven't given this one a read yet, it really is a must. I lump praise on her pretty regularly, but I don't know anyone who is able to portray their character's emotions as intimately as Ceil. her ghost feels really grounded in all his complexity. there is a common theme in these recs of really enjoyable reader characters, and this is not an exception; the reader feels like a full but still ambiguous character who is vulnerable and strong and really great.

don't leave me locked in your heart by @ohbo-ohno - (ghoap x reader dark!) we all know bo, we all love bo. I always love the way she depicts ghost and soap's dynamic changing and evolving to include the reader. the descent into dark territory in this is really really fun. It's also just hot and well-written! if you haven't read it before, go read it, and then go read all of bo's drabbles and asks on here. genuinely one of my favourite dark but still fun writers. I think she balances it really well.

body electric by @yeyinde and Afterburn by @sprout-fics - (141 + Los Vaqueros x reader) a classic. I've returned to these so many times. sometimes you just want to read dirty, filthy, well done, smut and then warm cozy aftercare. not to wax poetic about pure sex (except that's exactly what one should do), but I think it can be really hard to write group sex like this and still have such insightful and individual glimpses into each character and dynamic, and Lev does it wonderfully. and then it's also hard to find good aftercare fic, and Sprout's feels like literal aftercare for both the reader character and the reader.

other fandoms

tried to curate to themes i think overlap in some of the cod works! and I think most of these can be read fandom blind.

i revisited @winterrose527's fic in August, and even though she already knows how much I love her work, I won't skip a chance to repeat it. Anna writes for asoiaf and is pretty much the queen of Robb Stark/Myrcella Baratheon, but I would say the modern AUs (my favs) can be read almost completely fandom blind. Any contemporary romance enjoyer would love her work. I'm really partial to her kid/single-parent fics. I think it's so hard to get right, and I always adore reading her kid characters and how she approaches love stories when kids are involved. anna's works are always brimming with love and incredible platonic, familiar, parent-child, and romantic relationships (if kid fic isn't your thing she also has a ton of other great fics). personal favs: We Could Be a Little Something, And There They Are, All the Same

Lawless by @goldcranes - (arthur morgan x ofc) age difference, cowboy love story, essentially a romance novel. if goldcranes has no fans, I'm dead. I encourage you to explore her work; very few people write as strongly across multiple fandoms as she does, and each of her works feels like a really strong love story with special characters.

The Odyssey by @sunlightmurdock - (bradley bradshaw x reader) 1980's roman literature prof x virgin student - no need to know top gun. katie's work is another entry in the 'feels like it stands really strongly separately from the source material' category. she has multiple ongoing AU's that I really love, but this one is a favourite. i think she does complex characters really well - their actions always feel intentional, and as flawed as they are, I always love them.

Wouldn't it be Nice by allyoops - (m/f captive A/B/O) if you aren't reading original works smut on ao3 you are missing out and allyoops is a great place to start for noncon, dubcon, age gap, taboo etc. enjoyers. they have a ton of works; usually one shots with lots of really delicious dynamics and different settings and tropes.

An Intoxicating Presence by FormerlyIR - (mob a/b/o haladriel) MOB. A/B/O. HALADRIEL. picks up with Halbrand in prison thanks to undercover FBI agent (and his mate!) Galadriel. does that sound crazy and awesome? well it is. mix it with Gal's internal struggle, the added complication of omegaverse, and overall great writing. really fun and really damn good.

civitas terrena by banalityofweevil - (darklina) angel Alina on an exploration of love in immortality with fallen angel Aleks. honestly, it's just a must-read for enjoyers of writing. incredibly creative with divine (literally and figuratively) imagery. i think one of my comments was on the precision of lulu's diction and I really stand by that.

tinsel into gold by ribbonedhare - (darklina) ddlg and cnc friends, this changed me. it is so warm and soft and my god, is it good. just scrumptious.

Be My Babydoll by KittyDruthers - (darklina) ddlg dollification need I say more

check the reading with ru tag for more!